God Agent: All Hail The Great Kobold

Swish!

Lan’ka retreated continuously under Rudor’s relentless assault, his feet scraping against the stone as he narrowly avoided another vicious swing. Rudor’s blood axe cleaved through the air with enough force to make the wind whistle around its edge, and Lan’ka sidestepped at the last possible moment. The blade slammed into the ground barely an inch from his foot, sending fragments of stone scattering across the tunnel.

Thud!

Lan’ka immediately jumped backward to create more distance, but Rudor was already pulling his weapon free. The blood mage didn’t give him even a moment to breathe. His crimson body surged forward again, his movements becoming increasingly aggressive as the battle continued. Every step brought him closer, and every swing forced Lan’ka farther toward the wall.

With no other choice, he slammed his hand against the wall beside him while he retreated. His fingers dug into the earth as he forcibly manipulated the stone, tearing chunks from the wall and pulling them toward his palm. The pieces gathered rapidly, compressing together under his control until they formed the rough shape of a massive stone axe.

Rudor swung and Lan’ka abruptly stopped retreating. He grabbed the newly formed weapon with both hands and swung forward with everything he had.

Bang!

The two weapons collided with tremendous force.

The blood axe and stone axe shattered simultaneously, sending fragments of earth and blood spraying in opposite directions. Both Lan’ka and Rudor were thrown backward from the impact, their arms recoiling from the force.

Lan’ka barely managed to regain his footing but Rudor did not even bother looking at the remnants of his weapon.

The blood surrounding his hand immediately began moving. It gathered from the splattered remains of his destroyed axe, twisting together and hardening within seconds until another blood axe formed in his opposite hand.

Lan’ka’s eyes widened.

"Again?"

Rudor’s answer was another swing.

Pfft!

The blade tore across Lan’ka’s chest.

"Gah!"

A small cry escaped Lan’ka’s lips as the force of the attack sent him falling backward. His body slammed against the ground with a heavy thud, and he immediately clutched the deep wound across his chest. Blood poured between his fingers, staining his scales and pooling beneath his body.

Rudor slowly raised his hand. The blood flowing from Lan’ka’s wound began lifting from his body.

Lan’ka’s eyes widened as he watched his own blood rise into the air in thin streams, twisting toward Rudor as though pulled by an invisible force.

"It’s over now," Rudor said with a sinister laugh. "The moment you bleed before a blood mage, the battle is as good as lost."

The rune carved into the center of his chest suddenly glowed violently.

"Blood Magic: Blood Drain!"

Lan’ka’s body jerked.

"Gah!"

He pressed both hands against his wound, desperately trying to stop the bleeding, but it made no difference. The blood continued flowing through his fingers and rising into the air. The sensation was far worse than simply losing blood. It felt as though something had reached inside his body and was physically pulling the liquid from his veins.

His muscles trembled and his breathing became ragged. Even his vision slowly began to blur around the edges.

Lan’ka tried to move, but his limbs felt increasingly heavy. The strength was being drained from him along with his blood, and every second made it harder to resist. He gritted his teeth and pushed against the ground, refusing to surrender, but his arm shook beneath his weight.

"Gah!"

His fingers dug into the stone but he could feel himself getting weaker.

Bam!

Rudor’s entire body suddenly stiffened and his eyes widened. The blood being pulled from Lan’ka abruptly lost its momentum and fell to the ground, splashing across the stone.

Rudor lowered his gaze slowly. Ghe rune at the center of his chest had been torn apart by a protruding spear. For a moment, he simply stared at the ruined mark in disbelief.

Ba-dump!

His heart suddenly pounded violently.

Blegh!

Black blood poured from his mouth.

Rudor staggered forward, one hand immediately clutching his chest as he struggled to remain standing. The spear wound through his back should have been the source of his pain, yet that was not what he felt.

His heart was hurting terribly.

It felt as though something had wrapped a rope around it and was slowly tightening the knot. Every heartbeat brought another wave of pressure, and Rudor could almost feel the organ straining against whatever invisible force was constricting it.

His breathing became shallow.

"What..."

He slowly looked over his shoulder but there was only darkness behind him. However , the darkness shifted and Tu’ka stepped out.

His eyes burned with a vicious purple light, and his expression remained completely cold as he stared at Rudor. In his hand was a spear formed entirely from blackness, its surface so dark that it seemed to swallow the weak light around it.

Rudor’s eyes shifted downward at the spear in Tu’ka’s hand. Then he twisted his body as far as he could, only then did he notice them.

Two other black spears protruded from his back. They had pierced into him without leaving the kind of wounds a normal weapon should have created. Instead, they seemed to have passed through his body like shadows before reaching the runes beneath his skin.

Rudor’s expression slowly changed from pain to realization.

"I see..."

His voice was barely audible.

He was using an Unorthodox element.

Rudor had spent enough time around the Red Scripture to understand just how rare such magic was. Most practitioners of Unorthodox magic were people who had deliberately corrupted their cores later in life, but natural born users were exceptionally uncommon.

He had never expected to encounter one here.

"Just... Just how many of these monsters does this colony have?" Rudor muttered before coughing violently.

Gaaaah!

He clutched his chest as another wave of pain tore through him.

"Blood Magic: Rejuvenation!"

For a moment, Rudor thought he could stabilize himself, instead he coughed again.

Blegh!

More black blood poured from his mouth and his legs weakened beneath him.

He staggered backward several steps, swaying from side to side as his hand desperately pressed against his chest. The Rejuvenation spell could heal wounds, restore damaged flesh and stabilize his condition, but this injury was different.

The worst part was that the spears had not left a physical wound. The pain was coming from somewhere he could not heal.

"Ri... Ridiculous..."

Rudor’s voice trembled.

His knees finally gave out and his body collapsed onto the stone with a heavy thud.

Tu’ka walked toward him without saying anything.

Rudor’s fingers twitched weakly as he tried to move, but before he could even raise his head, Tu’ka drove another spear of darkness directly through his skull and his body went limp.

Tu’ka slowly withdrew the weapon and stared down at the corpse with nothing but disgust and hatred in his eyes. He then spat on the ground beside Rudor before turning away, his expression remaining cold as the surrounding darkness slowly followed him.

___Meanwhile____

On the other side of the battlefield, the fight between Grash and Kong’gong had reached an entirely different level.

Bang!

Grash gritted his teeth as he staggered backward several steps before finally stopping himself. His battle axe had blocked the attack, but the force behind the blow still travelled through the weapon and into his entire body.

His arms trembled and his shoulders burned.

Blood ran down the side of his face, mixing with sweat before dripping from his chin. Bruises covered his exposed chest, and several deep marks had already formed across his body from the repeated attacks.

Grash slowly raised his head. His narrowed gaze settled on the figure standing several meters before him.

Kong’gong towered over the battlefield.

At over six feet tall, the old kobold was almost half the height of the tunnel itself. His physique had changed dramatically since he returned to his true form. His scales appeared thicker and denser than those of an ordinary kobold, while his arms had become longer and his claws extended nearly three inches from his fingers.

His tail was particularly striking.

The end had transformed into a heavy, rounded mass covered in hardened spikes, giving it the appearance of a natural mace. His long white goatee hung beneath his muzzle, somehow making the ancient kobold look even more imposing while his emerald eyes burned with a quiet intensity.

Grash tightened his grip around his battle axe as he stared at him. What stood before him was not a kobold.

"This is a Salamander." He muttered with a frown