Chapter 881: Madness, Mirrors, and a Broken Throne
"Everywhere I go, I see pigs."
A whip tore through the air, the spiralling coil of cosmic energy around it shredding through the bodies of the pot-bellied two-legged monsters in its path.
"Shouting pigs charging at me with reckless abandon, their eyes clouded with madness."
The whip pulled back and struck the eyes of another creature on the left, then wrapped around its head, dragging its body to the side and sending it crashing into two others who were roaring and charging with clubs in their hands.
"Pigs stomping over and killing each other just to get to me, not a trace of sentience left in their existences."
The whip whooshed through the air again, rebounding off the walls and slicing through the neck of the next creature in sight.
"I’m tired of seeing pigs standing on two legs."
With those words, Arthur pulled back his whip and swung it to the side, flicking off the blood and guts clinging to it.
The date was June 10, making two days since he’d entered this labyrinth with the goal of getting out within 31 days.
Arthur, however, was still on the first floor.
Swinging, slashing, kicking, punching, swinging.
He’d gone through that set of actions over and over for the past two days, making sure every single movement ended with a target either dying or taking enough damage to stop moving in any meaningful way.
Whenever one of his attacks accidentally hit the brick walls, the blow rebounded with force several degrees higher, which made every misstep dangerous.
The labyrinth’s maze had countless turning passages, with orcs appearing throughout the pathways, along with larger zones where many gathered at once.
Arthur had just stepped into one of those larger zones and now had to deal with 22 Intermediate Low-Tier Deity Orcs attacking him together.
’Luckily, they’re all mad and can’t properly use their Authorities.’
Because of that, the battles were a lot easier than they would’ve been if he were fighting completely sane existences that didn’t activate their Authorities on instinct.
’But when they do activate techniques, they become pains.’
One thing Arthur had confirmed was that most of the Orcs here had Authorities over the laws of Fortification, along with certain other defensive laws, since some of their roars produced an effect he’d started calling ’Super Armour’.
In that state, their defensive power increased, and when several orcs used the technique together, the effects stacked, their upper limit still unknown to Arthur.
What he did know was that they could stack the effect enough times that his serious whip strikes only grazed their skins, which forced him to rely on his Weapon Authority and Cosmic energy to break through their defences and kill them.
In that state, their attack power also increased, since the craters their attacks carved into the cosmic energy reinforced floor whenever they missed him grew nearly twice as large.
’I hate using whips. But who would’ve thought I’d hate using them against orcs even more?’
Arthur asked himself silly questions like that while turning down another corner, freezing for a moment and then heaving an exhausted sigh.
The 30+ Orcs gathered at the end of the hallway all roared before charging toward him, their bodies glowing with law energy and their eyes filled with the light of madness.
"Fuck."
Cursing, Arthur swung his whip at full power, the thong weaving through the air at hypersonic speed and damaging every creature it hit.
He pulled the whip back and then swung it diagonally upward, and when it hit the ceiling, it bounced toward the floor with greater force before springing back toward his position. He jumped aside, letting it rebound off the wall behind him and race toward a trio of orcs charging with glaives in hand.
Screams echoed as the whip tore through the heads of the orcs and kept flying forward, bouncing off the wall before striking another orc’s arm, then rebounding again and hitting an orc’s leg.
It rebounded off another surface and arced back toward Arthur, but he released the handle and initiated a self-destruct, detonating the cosmic energy making up the whip in one bright blast.
Arthur constructed another whip as he landed, swinging it the moment it materialised and looping its crack around the neck of an orc that charged out of the blast, even with one of its arms dangling uselessly.
He pulled the whip forward, dragging the creature face down, then drop-kicked the back of its skull, ending its life.
"The working process of these walls’ reflective enchantments confuses me," he muttered, rolling up his new whip.
Continuing along his original path, he moved down a small slope and arrived before something that instantly caught his attention.
A swirling portal of dark blue spatial power.
"Is that the gate to the next floor? Good."
He quickened his steps, grabbed one of the headless corpses on the floor and wrapped his whip around its foot before tossing it into the portal.
Waiting for a few minutes to analyse the feedback, he confirmed as much as he could that there was no immediate danger on the other side, then stepped through.
When he emerged from the other end, a layer of cosmic energy around his body, he found himself standing in a large circular hall with a broken throne on an elevated dais in the centre.
Despite being broken, it was spotless, without any dust that would suggest it had been damaged through years of abandonment and depreciation.
Seated at the foot of the broken throne, at the bottom of the dais, was a large orc.
Orcs were already large by default, with the shortest standing at least 2 metres tall, so the fact that Arthur considered this one ’large’, even by those standards, showed just how huge it was.
It was around 5 metres in height, with muscular arms thicker than Arthur’s waist, and unlike the other orcs that wore broken, rusted partial armour, this one’s equipment, though also partial armour covering only the joints and a few vitals, looked good as new.
Arthur glanced around the room, catching sight of a few bones and skulls piled in one corner, then looked back at the massive orc who was now staring right at him.
Seeing its calm brown eyes, Arthur raised an eyebrow in light surprise.
"Oh? You’re not batshit crazy."
At this, the pig-headed orc’s brows furrowed, its head tilting to the side as it opened its mouth and repeated Arthur’s words.
[...batshit...crazy?]
The deep, gruff voice echoed across the large room, and Arthur nodded in affirmation.
"Unlike the rest of your fellow orcs, you’re still sentient."
Hearing this, the orc lowered its gaze, looked at the whip in Arthur’s hand, then frowned.
[You are drenched in the blood of the good men who had sworn fealty to me...]
There was a trace of resignation in its tone, and though Arthur noticed it, he didn’t address that, focusing instead on the meaning behind the words.
"Sworn fealty? The crazy ones outside were your subordinates?"
Arthur’s question made the orc blink in surprise, a realisation appearing in its eyes.
[I see,] it said, nodding in understanding. [You are an ignorant one. The first in many years.]
"Ignorant?" Arthur echoed, then, rubbing his chin, he took a step to the side and leaned on the wall.
"Exactly what am I ignorant about? Enlighten me," he said.
Arthur detected no trace of a will to fight from this orc, and since he felt he was about to uncover what might be vital information, he chose to engage in conversation first.
He didn’t lower his guard, though, nor did he drop the skin-tight layer of cosmic energy surrounding him.
The orc didn’t seem to notice the cosmic energy, and even though it did notice the weapon law energy coiling around Arthur’s whip, it said nothing about it.
[You are ignorant because you know not what kind of place you are in.]
"The Abyss Labyrinth. Or so it’s called by those outside. You guys in here got a different name?"
At Arthur’s question, the orc snorted and responded.
[They still call it that? A fancy name for a prison.]
"Prison, you say?" Arthur blinked, not having expected this part.
[What else could this abyss be but a prison? A prison for the Race Rulers of the universe to put those who refuse to bend to their will and those whom they want to punish and torment for resisting their rule.]
The orc chuckled dryly, shaking its head as it continued, [I sense it within you, though you seem to be suppressing it for some reason.
You look young, but you’ve achieved the Authority I once had. A Ruler. A Conqueror.
However, I refused to bend to the will of the dominators from beyond my galactic cluster, and I ended up imprisoned here for my defiance, my sworn brothers and dearest subordinates all cursed with madness.]
The orc’s words revealed a lot of details that Arthur had to take a moment to process.
First off, this orc wasn’t just any orc, but an ’Orc Lord’. Or at least, it, no—he was.
Next, he had been imprisoned in the Abyss Labyrinth by Race Rulers from other galaxies, whom he had tried to resist, likely Race Kings and Queens.
The orcs Arthur had been fighting for the past two days were likely the ones that made up his army from his time as an Orc Lord, and the reason for their berserk states was a curse of madness.
’A curse, huh? This inhibition on my perception Wyndella placed is really pissing me off. To think I couldn’t detect something as basic as that.’
Arthur frowned deeply, but choosing to focus on the present, he raised his gaze and asked, "Do you know which galaxies these Race Rulers came from? The ones who put you here?"
[Why do you ask?] the orc shot back. [You feel sympathy and wish to avenge us?]
"Oh, no. I just wanna know so I can be wary around them," Arthur responded instantly.
His quick and blunt response elicited a dry laugh from the former Orc Lord, who slammed his palm on his thigh and spoke.
[You can just be wary of every Race King and Queen from every faction and race, then! They’re all in on it!
This ’Abyss Labyrinth’ is the prison created by their joint efforts to eliminate common enemies, and soon they began dumping anyone they didn’t like in here.]
Hearing this, Arthur sighed, clicking his tongue quietly.
’Why am I not surprised?’
He thought of all the Race Kings and Queens he’d dealt with, especially the 72 Demon Kings, and then sighed again, shaking his head.
"What a pain. Now I’ve got more things to watch out for besides hostile takeovers," he muttered, pushing himself off the wall and stepping forward.
"Well, thanks for the information. Anything else to share, or should we get to the part where we try to kill each other? I’m pretty sure the doors behind you won’t open if you’re still around."
At Arthur’s words, the former Orc Lord sighed, speaking in an exasperated tone.
[So you too would follow the same path of those before you? Running straight to an early grave?]
With that, the former Orc Lord rose to his feet, magic power radiating from his enormous body as he declared in a True Voice.
|My name,| he said, |Orjool.|
The declaration of his name seemed to carry a special effect, the pressure he emanated intensifying noticeably.
Without waiting for him to do anything else, Arthur kicked off the ground and dashed at top speed, his arm pulled back, ready to swing his whip at the orc’s neck.
But just as his arm muscles moved, white law energy crackled like lightning around the orc’s thick hands, and he moved with a speed that belied his massive frame, a blinding flash streaking through the air.
"!!"
**SWISSHH!
The white blade sliced through Arthur’s whip, releasing a projected cutting wave that tore through the layer of energy coating his body like a hot knife through butter.
The shockwave from the whip’s destruction knocked Arthur back, his legs hitting the floor and skidding, carving grooves into the ground.
"Guh!"
Arthur groaned, dropping to one knee as he clutched his chest, feeling silver blood spill onto the floor.
|I would not ask for your name,| Orjool said, stepping forward while spinning his switchblade in his hands.
|It’s unnecessary, as you’ll be joining the pile of bones in the corner soon.|
The words of the former Orc Lord didn’t register in Arthur’s ears, as the godslayer was consumed entirely by rage.
’Wyndella...you fucking bitch!!’
He cursed as the realisation dawned on him. The true reason Wyndella had rushed him into the Abyss Labyrinth, and most importantly, why she’d placed inhibitions on his perception, was now clear.
It was all to stop him from noticing something crucial until it was too late.
The ’power’ that the ’Conquerors’ and former ’Race Rulers’ imprisoned in this section of the Abyss Labyrinth possessed.
Arthur glared upward as Orjool swung his wide great sword, law energy crackling along its length like lightning, before stabbing it into the ground and declaring.
|Authority of Creation!|
