A Gunslinger’s System in a World of Magic

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[Name: ?????]

Stay tuned to empire

[Race: Orc]

[Class: {Blessed} Orc Priest]

[Job: Orc Leader]

[Health: 680 {800}]

[Mana: 730 {950}]

[Faith: 270]*

[Strength: 115 {250}]

[Agility: 70 {160}]

[Stamina: 130 {200}]

[Intelligence: 230]

*[Remarks: An Orc that has thrived in the terrain of the Dungeon. Not only improving its innate 'Intelligence' required to cast spells but also improving its Spiritual connection to its godly patron.

A very difficult Opponent. And as far as you're concerned, it's Unkillable.]

Without prompting, the updated stat screen for the Orc Priest appeared in front of Henry's eyes confirming what everyone could already deduce. The stats in brackets were what the Orc had been blessed with and Henry noticed quickly enough that its 'Intelligence' had remained the same. All blessings had been for physical boosts but that wasn't a ray of hope. If anything, it just made things more dire.

Whatever advantages Boyle had in the altercation hinged heavily on the fact that he had better physical stats but with this boost, there was no longer anything lacking in the Orc Priest's repertoire of moves.

Having just slammed Boyle's less dominant hand aside, the Orc Priest stabbed its staff into the ground and curled its hand into a predatory shape. The liquid mana seeping from its body took shape to become somewhat solid in the form of claws that it struck toward Boyle.

Boyle's eyes went wide at the coming attack and he quickly released his hold on his sword still in the Orc Priest's grip to leap back and avoid the strike but he was too slow and he was struck in the chest still.

The claws tore through his armor plate and ripped his skin drawing blood while the force of the attack sent him flying. At least it should have and would have had the red liquid mana seeping from the Orc's body not taken the shape of a chain that wrapped around his waist to pull him close so the Orc could wrap its claw-tipped hand around his neck.

"Pathetic," the Orc Priest said in a spitting tone and wide grin across its face. It held up Boyle's sword. Its fingers were still wrapped around the blade. The coat of red mana allowed it to withstand the sharpness of the blade that would have otherwise cut right through its fingers.

"Impressive weapon," the Orc Priest said, "It's not Y'Nth metal, I can tell. Yet, with all the strength coursing through me, I cannot, for the life of me break it. But a fine weapon does not make a fine warrior."

Boyle rolled his eyes and, while trying his hardest not to groan, he managed to say,

"All that bravado because you got help?" He said and would have laughed had the Orc's grip around his neck not tightened even more.

But then, energy began to seep from Boyle's body. A righteous conviction rose from deep within him to reinforce his already powerful physical prowess. Improving it by a substantial margin.

Oath Charge!

Calling upon the Oaths he had sworn by when he was Knighted, Boyle could surpass his current physical limitations. With it empowering him, he clenched his fist and swung at the Orc Priest to let loose a Mana wave.

Without a sword, and with his airways getting more constricted with every second that passed, the wave was disorderly. Rather than the uniform spinning blade that he'd usually expect from a Mana arc made with a sword, this was like a collection of smaller blades. Fortunately, they were enough to cause a nuisance to the Orc and their collective force knocked it off balance.

Distracted, the Orc Priest was caught by surprise when the blade of Boyle's secondary sword stabbed through its arm and it released the Knight's neck while crying out in pain.

"Argh— You!" It yelled out in a roaring voice. The annoyance of the spinning blades of mini-mana arcs was over.

Boyle dashed over to the side, his target was his sword lying on the ground a few feet away. His hand was about an inch away from it when a forceful wave of red Mana slammed into him and sent him flying until he hit the ground and rolled to a stop.

A Spear of red mana followed and Boyle made a wide swing with his sword, hitting the spear precisely and knocking to the side just in time to parry away a chain formed of the Orc Priest's red liquid mana.

The chain twirled in the air and shook like a spited serpent right before the chain links broke and each link became a dagger that all stabbed toward the prone Knight.

"Ah— Shit!" Boyle let out and kicked off from where he was but the daggers were much too fast and too momentous to be thwarted by just that move.

Eloise thrust her hands forward at that moment and conjured a shield of Mana to defend her captain. The shield shattered from the relentless barrage.

The Orc Priest's intelligence surpassed hers hence, its spells were far stronger than what she could comfortably defend against. And that was besides the blessing of its god that was certainly what was the cause of its liquid red mana.

Eloise of course, didn't stop at a single shield cast. She cast three more but they were all broken through in turn. Fortunately, they were able to stop some of the volleys and reduce the speed of the rest by a fraction of a second.

She bought enough time for Sir Boyle to make a sweeping arc with his sword to unleash a wave of Mana to wrought destruction upon them while still trying to dodge whatever got past the many shields and his Mana wave.

Of course, the operation was far from perfect and Boyle still got stabbed by a bunch of daggers. The reduced barrage did allow him to survive though.

Alas, that was a situation the Orc Priest was ever much intent on changing.

The Dagger-barrage, Eloise's interference with the shields, as well as the final sweep away by Boyle and his mana surge, had only lasted three seconds at most but that was more than enough time for the Orc Priest to pull its staff out of the ground and cross the distance it had created between Boyle and itself by slamming the Knight with a wave of Mana.

"Rar!!!"n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Letting out a yell that was closer to a roar, it charged at Boyle. It moved so fast that the movement of its feet blurred and it arrived almost too fast for Eloise to erect a shield in defense of her Captain.

She just managed to make it with two shields shimmering into existence between Boyle and the Orc. The Orc was likely more than fast enough to go around the shields and attack Boyle before he could even attempt a defense but, as though intent on proving a point, it struck out a blow with its free hand and punched at the shield.

The first shattered. The second suffered the same fate.

Once the Orc Oriest had made it past the two flimsy bits of defense, it gripped its Staff with both hands and advanced the single step left to come up to Boyle who had just managed to raise his sword diagonally in front of his chest in preparation to parry.

In a single fluid move, the Orc Priest used the top of its Staff to knock Boyle's sword to the side before slamming the stem of the Staff into the Knight's chest.

*BAM!*

"Ack!"

When the staff hit, time seemed to freeze for Boyle just so he could take note of exactly what happened. He felt the worst of a direct strike from a creature possessing the amount of Strength the Orc currently did but he felt more than that.

The red liquid mana seeping out of the Orc Priest's body, courtesy of the blessing of its god, channeled through the Y'Nth metal that made up the Staff and entered Boyle's body, freezing his senses in a state of perpetual fear.

When Boyle looked at the Orc Priest, he didn't see it as just a monster, but one chosen as an agent of some Violent Murder god. When he looked into those glowing red eyes, Boyle saw more… He saw himself in a field of bodies. He recognized enough of them to know they were the members of his squad all subjected to terrible tortures before they eventually stopped breathing.

As for him, Boyle found himself raised on a pole with his flesh being flailed while he was sustained by that horrible murderous energy to ensure he was alive to suffer the pain of the torture.

Boyle had no sense of flying away after getting slammed by the Staff but he regained his sense of surrounding when he slammed the back of his head against a tree and spat out blood. The trauma seemed to pull him out of whatever vision or hallucination of torture he had just been subjected to.

Boyle's heart raced but he stifled the fear creeping up. If anything, what he just felt only convinced him of the need to kill this creature and then go on to kill to Dungeon Boss before the inhabitants of the Evolving Dungeon got the chance to spill out and wreak havoc outside.

Whatever vision he had just suffered could very well come true if the creatures within the Dungeon were allowed to get stronger as it evolved.

'I can't let that happen,' Boyle thought with conviction before saying out loud,

"I can't."