Chapter 40

In broken Reikspiel, limited to simple words, the ogre addressed Atlas, his speech rough and guttural. "Hummies run," he grunted, gesturing dismissively. "Get out of way. We take loot."

Atlas remained steadfast, his expression unwavering. "I'm afraid that's not going to happen," he replied calmly, his tone laced with authority. "This is our camp, and we won't be handing over our belongings to a band of marauders."

The ogre let out a low, rumbling laugh, the sound echoing through the night air. "You funny hummie," he sneered, raising his club menacingly. "We take. You no stop."

Atlas narrowed his eyes, his grip tightening on his magical blade. "You dare threaten me, ogre? You and your kind are not welcome here. Leave now, or face the consequences."

The ogre sneered, his massive frame trembling with anger. "You think you scare me, little hummie? We take what we want, and right now, we want your loot."

Atlas remained steadfast. "You'll find that I'm not as easily intimidated as some may be. Leave now, and perhaps I'll spare your lives." Letting his fangs out and emitting the power of his vampire bloodline – he was a von Carstein and would not be fodder for these savages.

The ogre let out a guttural laugh, his companions echoing his amusement. "You not hummie. No matter. We'll crush you like insects. No difference."

Before Atlas could respond, a sudden flurry of arrows flew from the surrounding trees, raining down upon the ogres. The mercenaries he had hired clearly weren't as patient as him. The ogres roared in fury as the little twigs hurt and charged forward, intent on retaliation.

As the horde of Ogres charged forward with thunderous footsteps, Atlas raised his hand in a commanding gesture, signalling his undead minions to meet the onslaught. With a bone-rattling cacophony, the skeletons surged forward to meet the charging brutes, their skeletal forms clattering and rattling with each step.

The Ogres crashed into the front lines of the undead army, their massive clubs and crude weapons swinging with devastating force. Bones shattered and splintered as the Ogres ploughed through the ranks of skeletons, sending crushed bone flying in all directions.

Despite the ferocity of the Ogre's assault, the undead remained steadfast, pressing forward with relentless determination. With each great swing of their weapons, the Ogres knocked several skeletons down, but the undead warriors quickly rose again, their unyielding resolve matched only by their master's command.

The Ogres, accustomed to the taste of flesh in battle, found themselves frustrated by their inability to sate their hunger on the lifeless forms of the undead. Roaring with frustration, they continued their onslaught, their brute strength and sheer numbers posing a formidable challenge even for Atlas and his undead minions.

With a swift command, Atlas rallied his elite force to his side, the wights, undead knights, and Strickler responding to his call with lethal efficiency. As they charged into the fray, the air crackled with tension, the clash of steel against bone echoing through the night.

Dodging a sweeping blow from an Ogre, Atlas moved with uncanny agility, his movements a blur of calculated precision. His sword flashed like lightning, carving through the air with deadly intent as he struck at the monstrous creature's legs, forcing it to stumble backwards with a thunderous crash.

But the enraged Ogre, fuelled by adrenaline and fury, proved to be a formidable adversary. With a roar that shook the very earth, it swung its massive mace with reckless abandon, the heavy weapon whistling through the air with bone-crushing force.

Sensing the danger, Atlas deftly evaded each swing, his senses honed by centuries of combat experience. Yet, even as he danced nimbly out of harm's way, he knew that a single misstep could mean certain death.

Meanwhile, the Wights, their ethereal forms gliding through the chaos with ghostly grace, closed in on the Ogre, their spectral swords shimmering with otherworldly energy. With uncanny precision, they struck at the creature's exposed flesh, their blows finding purchase in its thick hide and sending shivers of agony through its massive frame.

But the Ogre, fuelled by sheer brute strength and unyielding rage, refused to yield. With a primal roar that echoed across the battlefield, it lashed out with renewed ferocity, its blows raining down like thunderbolts against Atlas and his companions.

It took several more wounds to pierce its insides before finally, the ogre fell silent in death.

Yet, even in the face of overwhelming odds, Atlas remained steadfast, his determination unwavering as he fought tooth and nail to overcome the monstrous foe that stood in his path. With each strike of his blade, he inched closer to victory, his resolve burning like a beacon in the darkness, guiding his allies to triumph against all odds.

As the battle raged on, Atlas felt the familiar surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins, fueling his every move with a potent mix of exhilaration and exhaustion. His gaze flickered over to Strickler, who had wisely kept his distance from a different Ogre, his hands wreathed in dark flames that licked hungrily at the air.

With a grim determination, Strickler channelled the dark energies at his command, unleashing a torrent of infernal fire that engulfed the Ogre in a searing blaze. The creature bellowed in agony as its flesh sizzled and crackled, the sickly scent of burning fat filling the air.

As the flames consumed the monstrous foe, Atlas felt a surge of pride welling up within him. Despite his fledgling status, Strickler had proven himself to be a formidable ally, his mastery over dark magic rivalling even Atlas's own considerable powers.

With a nod of approval, Atlas turned his attention back to the fray, his senses keenly attuned to the ebb and flow of battle. Despite the odds stacked against them, he knew that victory was within their grasp, so long as he could topple their leader, the rest would flee.

Locking eyes with the enemy across the battlefield, both knew that victory would be decided by their duel. If Atlas was killed, his undead would crumble and the convoy would be easy pickings. If the ogre leader fell, his unit would scatter as the survivors would look forward to competing for his position.

As the colossal Ogre leader bore down on him, Atlas met its gaze with steely resolve, his mind racing with strategies to turn the tide of battle. With a swift incantation, he invoked the power of Vanhel's Dance Macabre, infusing himself with supernatural agility that would allow him to match the brute strength of his towering adversary.

With a deft flick of his wrist, Atlas crushed a talisman imbued with dark magic, releasing the pent-up energy in a surge of arcane power he had prepared earlier. With a guttural incantation, he summoned forth the spirit of one of the fallen Ogres, binding it to his will and commanding it to rise once more as a fearsome Greater Undead.

The fallen Ogre lumbered to its feet, its massive form wreathed in dark energy as it loomed menacingly at Atlas's side, its mace held aloft with deadly intent. With his newfound ally at his side, Atlas braced himself for the coming clash, his eyes blazing with determination as he prepared to face the Ogre leader head-on. The creature's twisted visage contorted into a grotesque semblance of life, its eyes gleaming with an otherworldly malevolence. Gripping its mace tightly, the Greater Undead stood at Atlas's side, a silent sentinel ready to unleash devastation upon his masters enemies.

With his newfound ally, Atlas turned his attention back to the looming threat of the Ogre leader. The massive brute lumbered closer, its thunderous footsteps shaking the very ground beneath them and easily trampling dozens of skeletons. Undeterred, Atlas squared his shoulders, his senses heightened as he prepared to engage in combat.

The air crackled with tension as the two adversaries faced off, each sizing up the other with a mixture of caution and determination. With a roar that echoed through the night, the Ogre leader charged forward, its massive form hurtling towards Atlas with unstoppable force.

Reacting with lightning speed, Atlas leapt aside, narrowly avoiding the crushing blow of the Ogre's club. With a swift counterattack, he lashed out with his blade, aiming for the creature's exposed flank. The Ogre bellowed in rage as the enchanted sword bit deep into its flesh, drawing dark blood that sizzled and steamed upon contact with the cold ground.

Meanwhile, Strickler continued to rain down dark flames upon another Ogre, his magic engulfing the creature in searing tendrils of black fire. The air filled with the acrid scent of burning flesh as the monstrous brute thrashed and roared in agony, its thick hide crackling and blistering under the intense heat.

With a mighty swing of its massive club, the Ogre aimed to crush him beneath its formidable strength. Reacting swiftly, Atlas dodged to the side, narrowly evading the crushing blow, but not without consequence. The force of the Ogre's attack sent shockwaves of pain through his body as debris rained down around him, a grim reminder of the perilous nature of their struggle.

Undeterred, Atlas pressed forward, his enchanted blade flashing in the dim light as he launched a flurry of strikes against his towering foe. Yet, for all his skill and agility, the Ogre proved a formidable adversary, its thick hide absorbing the brunt of his blows with unsettling resilience. With each passing exchange, Atlas felt the weight of his injuries mounting, his movements growing sluggish as fatigue threatened to overwhelm him.

Just as it seemed the tide of battle might turn against him, a timely intervention came in the form of the Greater Undead Ogre. With a roar that shook the very earth, the monstrous creature charged into the fray, its undead form a formidable bulwark against their mutual foe. Seizing the opportunity, Atlas rallied alongside his newfound ally, their combined efforts serving to tip the scales in their favour.

With grim determination, Atlas and the undead Ogre grappled with the monstrous leader, their strength matched against the brute force of their adversary. Each moment felt like an eternity as they struggled against the relentless onslaught of their foe, their movements a blur of steel and sinew amidst the chaos of battle.

In a desperate gambit, Atlas saw an opening and seized upon it with unwavering resolve. With a swift and decisive strike, he lashed out with his blade, aiming true for the Ogre's massive hand. With a sickening crunch, the enchanted weapon cleaved through flesh and bone, severing the appendage with a spray of dark blood.

As the Ogre howled in agony, its mighty grip loosened, allowing Atlas to deliver the finishing blow. With a final, decisive strike, he drove his blade deep into the creature's heart, the enchanted weapon piercing its thick hide with grim finality. With a shudder, the monstrous brute collapsed to the ground, its lifeblood pooling around it as the battle came to a close.

As the leader of the Ogres fell to the ground, lifeless and defeated, a wave of panic swept through the ranks of the brutish creatures. With guttural cries of fear and dismay, the remaining Ogres looked on in horror at the demise of their chieftain, their resolve shaken by the sight of their fallen leader.

In a chaotic frenzy, the Ogres began to scatter, their lumbering forms stumbling over one another in their haste to flee the scene of their defeat. Some attempted to shake off the skeletal remnants of their fallen foes, their bony grips clinging stubbornly to their massive forms as they struggled to break free.

With each passing moment, the once formidable horde of Ogres dissolved into disarray, their ranks broken and their spirits shattered by the overwhelming might of their adversaries. Like frightened beasts, they fled into the darkness, their thunderous footfalls echoing through the night as they disappeared into the wilderness, leaving behind only the echoes of their terrified cries.

As the dust settled and silence descended upon the battlefield, Atlas stood amidst the aftermath of the conflict, his gaze fixed upon the retreating forms of the fleeing Ogres. Though victorious, he knew that their encounter with the brutish creatures was far from over.

In the days to come, they would need to remain vigilant, for the Ogres were not the only danger in this part of the world. But for now, amidst the ruins of their shattered foe, Atlas allowed himself a moment of grim satisfaction, knowing that they had faced the enemy and emerged triumphant.

Turning to his companions, he issued orders to tend to the wounded and secure the camp. Despite the encounter with the ogres, their journey must be continued unabated, each step bringing them closer to their destination beyond the World's Edge Mountains.