Chapter 867 Echoes of Oblivion: Confronting Orcus
Chapter 867 Echoes of Oblivion: Confronting Orcus
[WARNING! Filler Chapter!]
Ragnar, Sumeri, Nikolai, and Hubrion
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"That's why I find it strange for him to be talking about that kind of stuff. You should have been there so you could see for yourself."
"It's weird that we opened that kind of subject, right? But I enjoyed it," Nikolai said, chuckling.
"You do like gory stuff. You're only a child shouldn't you be watching cartoons."
"I'm no longer a kid!"
While Sumeri and Nikolai talked amongst themselves, Ragnar remained deep in thought.
There had to be a reason why Ren had mentioned those things.
It was unlike him to stray so far from the usual topics of discussion, from the game to the apocalypse?
Ragnar couldn't connect the two.
But why did he mention it?
Could it be that he was really into apocalyptic movies right now?
Or was it just a random question?
Or was he the one who was overthinking about Ren's off-topic apocalyptic discussion?
Ragnar contemplated, his mind entertaining various scenarios.
"Hey! Ready yourselves! The boss is approaching!" Hubrion's urgent voice snapped Ragnar out of his reverie as he galloped toward them.
In the distance, the faint echo of drumbeats reverberated, causing the ground to tremble with the approach of marching soldiers.
The other players present in the area could feel it too, and they all directed their attention to where the sound was beating.
Ragnar and the others swiftly prepared themselves.
"Remember, what we will face is one of the older demon here in the Netherworld, so don't let your guard down," Hubrion cautioned. "But let me talk to him first before you act rashly."
Ragnar and Sumer exchanged a glance, their attention briefly diverted before the players surrounding them pointed towards the distance.
Ragnar squinted, noticing dust settling in that area.
Then, they heard something echoing on the horizon, as if someone was preaching something.
"As lo, I beheld in my divining mirror a pale throne," the voice resonated, carrying eerie weight across the land. "And His name that was sat upon it was Malice, and Oblivion followed with Him.
"Slouched and spent, His withered flesh stretched taut over demonic bone, the once magnificent frame now diminished by dark machinations across mortal eons.
"His great girth, no more, now a machine of terrible and gruesome design, sat in form, its snaking metal appendages coiling through flesh, bleeding light of impossible color.
"And then, His gaze pierced me," the voice continued, sending shivers down everyone who hear, "living eyes in a rotten, caprine skull."
"Augh. What is that?" Sumeri asked, a bit disoriented by the sudden noise.
A wisp of smoke emitted from Hubrion's nose. "It's just that scoundrel's way of entering. Don't mind it. He likes to sound important."
"Don't mind it . . . ?" Nikolai gulped, pointing at the approaching army. "How are we not going to mind that?"
Marching towards them were legions of skeletons and high demons.
However, that wasn't the most shocking and horrifying thing.
Atop a throne adorned with lich skulls sat the tremendous, cadaverous figure of Orcus, the old demon. His limbs appeared withered, his torso bearing a gangrenous wound.
Where his abdomen should be was a necrotic furnace of iron, bone, and brass that hungers for the souls of the living. Wild, painful balefire light emanated from it, with metal tendrils connecting to Orcus's torso, spine, and head.
Clutching the Wand of Orcus, a scepter of blackened iron crowned with a human skull, his still-living right hand exuded an aura of malevolence.
His head, a goat skull frozen in a rictus grin, housed his two living eyes, undiminished in their intensity. Metal tendrils snaked around his face, having ripped off his lower jaw.
Despite the grotesque sight, he appeared relaxed and calm, slouching on a throne that melded seamlessly with the machine.
Phalanxes of humanoid skeletons bore it aloft while undead demons, their eyes glowing with the same eerie light, stood guard.
Before him stood a host of dispassionate skeletons, their duty to feed mortals into the machine and retrieve their husks once their souls were ground down.
"W-what kind of demon is that?" Sumeri commented in shock.
"One that hates the living. So let me go there first," Hubrion was unfazed by Orcus's appearance and stepped forward.
Meanwhile, the players around them didn't know what to do. They stood there, shaken and stupefied, unsure whether to attack or call for reinforcements.
"Hello there, Orcus!" Hubrion's voice rang out loud and clear.
The marching halted, and like in a horror movie, every skeleton and demon simultaneously turned their hallowed eyes to Hubrion.
"Augh . . . if it isn't Hubrion," Orcus lazily propped his head on his hand. "Are you playing with mortals again?" he asked addressing the players scattered around. "Why don't I join you?"
"Actually, my purpose is you," Hubrion said. "I'll be straight to the point. Lord Azazel is back, and we're planning to overthrow the elders and bring the Netherworld to its former glory. We want your cooperation, Orcus."
Orcus was unimpressed. "I see . . . however, my stance remains the same as before. I don't care about your puny squabbles with the elders, nor do I care about the Netherworld. My purpose is grander than all of it combined."
"What purpose is there for a demon, but to serve Lord Azazel, our demon king?"
Orcus sneered and scoffed. "Someone like you couldn't possibly understand. But let me enlighten you just so your little brain might comprehend my grand goal.
"Life is a chaotic, maddening force on the world. In my eyes, everything would be so much simpler if all life were to drop dead. The realms would be free to exist in empty bliss, immaculate and quiet for all eternity.
"Even undeath, while an improvement on the plague of life, will inevitably be disposed of to ensure my vision. In the end, all that will remain will be me, free to enjoy the perfect world I so painstakingly wrought."
"That again?" Hubrion sighed. "Your logic is flawed, Orcus."
Orcus's goat-like eyes twitched. "Flawed?"
Hubrion nodded and crossed his arms, his voice calm and nonchalant as he explained, "You want all life to perish, correct? However, does that mean that you must kill yourself too to achieve your goal? It can't be that you're the only one remaining when your goal is complete annihilation. That's called being a hypocrite."