Transmigrated As An Extra In The Apocalypse-Chapter 93 - 92: Draining The Barrier

A low, guttural rumble filled the air.

The orc lord had noticed me.

His massive form paused mid-stride, and then, ever so slowly, he turned.

His deep-set eyes, glowing with a cruel amusement, locked onto mine.

His mouth curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk, but more of a disappointed sneer, as if he found my struggle beneath him.

And then he started walking toward me.

Each step was slow, deliberate, yet the earth trembled beneath his weight.

The club in his hand, no, it wasn’t just a weapon, it was a statement, rose effortlessly, the sheer mass of it making the air hum with force.

The same club that had cut down awakened and soldiers like insects, the same weapon that had torn through defenses as if they were made of paper.

I should have been terrified.

But I wasn’t.

Not even a bit.

I forced another step forward, my body screaming in protest.

My breath was ragged, my vision blurred, and yet, I kept moving.

The pain no longer mattered.

My breaking bones, my burning muscles, none of it mattered.

All that mattered was that I stood.

I met his gaze, refusing to look away.

For a moment, the orc lord’s stride slowed, his head tilting slightly as if he were puzzled by my defiance.

As if he was trying to understand why a lone, broken human was daring to stand against him when all the others had failed.

Then, with a guttural snarl, he lifted his club higher.

The shadow of it loomed over me, promising devastation, promising the end.

I braced myself.

I wasn’t sure if I could stop him.

But I wasn’t going to fall.

The air itself seemed to tremble as the orc lord’s club came down.

It wasn’t just an attack, it was an execution.

A final, absolute strike meant to erase me from existence.

The weight of it howled through the wind, the sheer force splitting the ground before it even made contact.

I could see the raw power behind it, the way reality itself seemed to bend around the sheer gravity of his strength.

And yet, I moved.

My body was already shattered, my muscles torn, my bones barely holding together under the strain of fighting his control.

But in that moment, none of it mattered.

My arms shot up, my fingers tightening as I caught the massive club mid-strike.

A deafening shockwave exploded outward.

The earth beneath my feet cracked, deep fissures spiderwebbing in all directions.

The air turned thick, humming with the impossible force of our clash.

My legs threatened to buckle, my hands burned from the impact, but I didn’t fall.

I wouldn’t fall.

The orc lord’s eyes widened for the first time.

His sneer faltered, confusion flickering in his gaze.

He had expected me to break.

To shatter like all the others who had stood before him.

But I wasn’t done yet.

A growl built in my chest, low and deep, rising until it became a battle cry.

And then, with every last ounce of strength I had left, I shifted my weight and swung.

My fist connected with his jaw.

The instant my knuckles met his jaw, the world erupted.

A thunderous boom rang out, shaking the very foundations of the battlefield.

Dust and debris exploded outward, the impact sending violent tremors through the land.

The sheer force of the punch hurled the orc lord backward, his enormous frame skidding across the shattered ground as if he were weightless.

For the first time, he was pushed back.

I stood there, my body screaming in agony, my breath ragged.

My arms felt like lead, my vision swam, but I refused to fall.

The orc lord lay in the distance, slowly rising, his massive hands pressing into the cracked earth beneath him.

His gaze locked onto mine, and this time, there was no amusement.

No condescension.

There was only rage.

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders, feeling the fire still burning in my veins.

"Not so invincible now, are you?" I muttered, my voice hoarse but steady.

This wasn’t over.

Not yet.

I wasn’t done yet.

The orc lord rose from the crater I had sent him into, his massive frame cracking the earth beneath him as he steadied himself.

His crimson eyes locked onto me, but this time, there was no mockery in them.

No arrogance.

Only confusion.

I could see it in the way his brow furrowed, his massive hand brushing over his chest, as if trying to make sense of what had just happened.

He had been untouchable.

Unstoppable.

His barrier, his absolute defense, had made sure of that.

And yet... I had struck him.

He bared his teeth, nostrils flaring.

"Impossible," he rumbled, his voice like grinding stone.

"No blade, no force, no magic can bypass my protection. And yet... Do you also possess Ash of Nullification, or Negation" His fingers clenched into a fist. "I couldn’t have made a mistake, I made sure to study all of you and your don’t have"

I exhaled sharply, wiping the blood from my lips.

My body was screaming, every inch of me battered and barely holding together, but there was no time for weakness.

I lifted my hand, flexing my fingers, feeling the lingering sensation of his energy, the barrier that had once surrounded him, now absent.

Gone.

"You relied on that barrier too much, you know that no matter who tries to pass it, it won’t work" I said, my voice steady despite the pain, "And you also relied too much on your amour which possess ash of nullification, knowing that anyone who could pass your barrier can never pass your amour"

"You thought your barrier was invincible. But all I had to do... was drain it, which was easy."

His eyes narrowed, but I could see it now, the realization sinking in.

His barrier wasn’t just a passive shield.

It was a force, a well of energy that constantly repelled anything that came near.

It pushed back.

But what happens when you throw all that force at something that doesn’t resist?

Something that absorbs instead?

The answer was simple... it breaks.

I had felt it the moment I touched his club.

The resistance, the pressure, it had been overwhelming at first.

But the longer I held on, the weaker it became.

I wasn’t just fighting against his barrier, i was taking from it, siphoning its strength with every second.

And now, it was gone.

The orc lord’s breathing deepened, his expression twisting into something unfamiliar, uncertainty.

"You..." His grip tightened around his club, his stance shifting. "You think this changes anything?"

I smirked despite the pain coursing through me.

"I don’t think, i know."

The battlefield was silent for a brief moment.

Then a deep, guttural roar erupted from the orc lord’s chest, shaking the very air around us.