Seconds before Midas arrived at the foot of the altar, his mind flew at a million miles an hour, trying to think of a way out of this situation alive.
Despite his desperate attempts to come up with some sort of solution, it seemed there was truly nothing he could do.
No part of his body was as strong as the orcs.
His agility hadn't climbed to that of this wild beast's... not even close.
His speed was lacking--his limbs not nearly muscular enough to generate very quick movements.
And worst of all, he had felt a crash of fatigue. Even thinking right now felt exhausting.
It truly felt like this was the end... until an idea popped into his head.
'The altar... There must be a reason why nothing is growing on it.' He had noticed this fact when the goblins were discussing amongst themselves several minutes earlier.
The two covered a wide range of topics that bored Midas, but he made sure to remember every detail regardless.
'It's weird... this whole place is weird. Why are these ruins in the center of a jungle? Was what that goblin said really true? Ancient civilizations of other intelligent beings? But that still doesn't explain why animals don't like coming near here, nor does it explain why nothing is growing where the altar is. If those two things connect, I can roughly assume that this place, or whoever created this place, wants nothing to come near it--and that also means that they especially wanted nothing to even touch the altar itself!'
*Present Time*
Midas used the rest of the strength left in his body to push himself aside--using his left hand and both feet.
The mace swung down with a blur of speed, but Midas barely managed to roll aside and narrowly avoid the blow.
The orc was hypnotised by anger, not even noticing Midas' movement.
The mace looked to have made contact with the fountain only a millisecond afterward.
*BOOOOOM*
A monstrous shockwave of air exploded out of the fountain.
An invisible force that was merely a hair's breadth had stopped the mace easily before it ever made full contact with the altar.
The following explosion was instant. Not a single warning, nor even a peep of sound.
All directions felt a massive force push against them like a freight train.
Trees swayed opposite to the altar's direction, and the greater thunderstorm above was obliterated.
Sunshine and white clouds began peaking through the dissipating dark spots, rays of light quickly purifying the area.
The orc was blown several feet into the air, slamming against a pillar before thudding onto his rear.
Midas panted, his eyes slightly wider now.
'H-holy fuck... it worked. It actually worked!' He turned, glancing at the fountain for a split second.
'What the hell is this thing...'
*Rustle*
The noise of movement sounded from the direction of the orc.
Midas' eyes instantly flew to where the orc was.
"Argh..." The orc grunted, carresing its head as it opened its eyes. "That... hurt. Was that your plan all along, player?" It slowly began to stand up.
Midas froze, his mind blown.
'He survived that? Something that could even change the damn weather... and he survived? Maybe the force was too spread out to deal lethal damage...' He thought, grimacing at this reveal.
In this moment of stillness, Midas heard slight clicks and pops all around him.
Upon looking around, he noticed that small pebbles and sticks were beginning to move on their own--as if some sort of magnetic force was drawing them upwards.
They didn't float, but they moved with an invisible electricity that one could feel in the air.
"WHO DARES SUMMON ME?" A voice suddenly boomed as loud as the explosion itself.
Without warning, a mountain had fallen. The eyes of both Midas and the orc opened as wide as planets.
The atmosphere had been stolen and changed--the air itself feeling several times heavier than before.
Breathing was now a task, and both beings felt as though a boulder had been placed on their shoulders.
The primal fear of death itself crept into the hearts of both beings who shared this horrifying moment together.
"Huh? What's this? I feel... a cold touch of air on my face. Is it a breeze? Yes... That's what it's called. A breeze... a breeze of... wind."
An odd-sounding voice sounded from above Midas.
Suddenly, the intense aura that had dominated the air only seconds earlier had dissipated.
Midas glanced up.
He saw what seemed to be a young man standing atop the altar--no older than 22 if one were to guess.
He hopped off the altar, landing between the orc and Midas.
"Ugh..." The young man sneered, "What a fucking filthy looking creature. Where did you climb out from? The depths of Satan's arse? No... even that might be a compliment for you." He said to the orc without any hesitation.
The young man had long, luscious black hair that was tied in a small ponytail at the very end--almost like a rat tail.
His face was lean and chiseled, his eyes a deep crimson red.
He wore a thin, open-front, white robe-style top, his chest and abs exposed.
A large purple and blue tattoo depicting letters and patterns covered the entire left side of his torso. For his lower body, he wore long, high-waisted hakama-style pants with a red cloth attached.
Secured on his belt sash was a katana sheathed in a blue and black cover.
From a distance, he looked no shorter than 6'2 feet (188cm).
He turned, commanding the tone with ease.
"Oh? A human..." He took a couple of steps forward, raising an eyebrow while lowering his eyelids slightly as if to survey Midas.
"I never shy away from telling others of my accomplishments." The man spoke with an air of confidence.
'This guy... each word that comes out of his mouth makes me feel inferior somehow. But thankfully, he doesn't seem to be my enemy. At least, it appears like that is the case.'
"Don't worry, boy. I am no enemy of yours." The young man said almost immediately after Midas's thought passed.
Midas scrunched his eyebrows together with confusion, 'What the--' His thought itself was cut off.
"But that doesn't mean I won't kill you." The young man said coldly, pausing.
"I am Dorian Vaal Morvayne, supreme commander of the imperial army and fifth of his heritage. Breaker of men, burglar of victory, conqueror of war! In the world of foul beasts, I am known as the great devourer. In the world of soft fairies, I am known as the disturber of peace. And to those who have yet to have heard a single one of those names, I am the mighty sleeping dragon of the south. Now tell me... what is your name?"