[WARNING! Filler Chapter!]
Ragnar, Sumeri, Nikolai, and Hubrion
Hubrion roared, a deep, rumbling sound that echoed across the battlefield, sending shivers down the spines of the Death Knights and disorienting the nearby Deathswarms.
Emboldened by their companion's roar, Nikolai and Sumeri seized the opportunity to launch a coordinated assault, swiftly dispatching a swath of demons in a flurry of magic and steel.
Ever the schemer, Orcus has concocted another loathsome undead horror to unleash upon the battlefield.
In this instance, the foul being was a horrifying creation known as a Skull Tyrant.
"Great, now what is that?" Sumeri's voice was laced with apprehension as she gestured towards the looming figure.
"It's like a giant skull," Nikolai breathed out in amazement, his eyes wide with awe.
"Could that thing summon a lot of undead?" Ragnar's tone was tinged with concern as he voiced the question that weighed heavily on their minds.
"Orcus is a necromancer, summoning and creating undead is as effortless to him as breathing," Hubrion replied, his expression nonchalant like he didn't care about their powerful opponent.
Sumeri shook her head, a frown creasing her brow. "Great. I don't relish the thought of battling these filthy creatures endlessly."
Hubrion's grin was almost predatory. "That's the beauty of it. All we have to do is kill Orcus, and this will end."
"How are we supposed to do that when that demon keeps its distance and we're still stuck here amidst this horde of undead?" Ragnar asked.
"You guys take care of the undead and his undead champions, as well as that Skull Tyrant. I will go and deal with Orcus," Hubrion announced decisively, his voice cutting through the chaos as he bolted towards their primary target.
"Hold on! Wait!" Sumeri called out, her voice tinged with urgency, but Hubrion paid no heed to their pleas, driven by his own singular focus.
Hubrion forged ahead, undeterred by the protests of his companions.
Sumeri let out a frustrated sigh, watching Hubrion's retreating figure with a mixture of exasperation and concern. "It's clear he's not a team player. Why did he have to join us if he wouldn't cooperate?"
Ragnar didn't mind it. "Don't worry about him. As long as he gets the job done, everything will work out in the end."
"You're too lenient with him," Sumeri sighed, her brows furrowing in worry. "I hope you're right."
"Don't fret, sis. Ren mentioned that Hubrion is the strongest warlord. He's more than capable of handling that demon," Nikolai reassured her, his tone light.
"But definitely not the smartest," Sumeri muttered under her breath.
Meanwhile, eager to witness the fruits of his labor firsthand, Orcus seized the rare opportunity to refrain from striking with overwhelming force and instead unleashed his creation upon the living.
Content to observe from a safe distance, Orcus took the time to meticulously study every action and stratagem unfolding before him, intent on refining his creation to perfection.
Occasionally intervening to test specific variables or factors in combat, Orcus remained curious to observe just how effectively his design served his every whim.
As a master necromancer, Orcus was never without a massive retinue of undead minions at his disposal. Even in the rare instance he found himself caught unprepared, the Army of the Dead could swiftly correct any errors.
Recognizing his role as a leader, Orcus strategically positioned himself in the back lines, away from the fray of angry barbarians and vicious paladins.
Fully aware of his ability to wear down any foe given enough time, whether through endless waves of undead, his fearsome [Tenebrous Shroud], or the safety of his [Lich Throne], Orcus approached battles with a patience honed over millennia of existence.
[Lich Throne]. Orcus is integrated into a foul necromantic machine known as the Lich Throne. He cannot be pushed, pulled, moved, or magically teleported unless he allows it.
[Tenebrous Shroud]. Orcus emits a vortex of soul-draining energy in a 30-foot radius.
In the rare event that Orcus felt compelled to take a more direct hand in combat, he wielded his [Clutch], spell attack that caused retrain and [Wand], melee attack that caused dizziness, with devastating efficiency, effortlessly turning a bad situation even worse.
However, Orcus reserved his most potent ability, [The Last Word], for moments when he needed to eliminate a player on demand, fully aware of its irretrievable nature once expended.
[The Last Word] (Recharge on a Long Rest). Orcus speaks a terrible, destructive word of primordial power at a creature he can see within 300 feet of him. The target takes necrotic damage equal to its hit point maximum.
However, this lengthy recharge time meant that Orcus could only use it once in a single battle, and thus, he reserved it for special occasions.
When commanding his undead minions, Orcus strategically utilized a wall of bodies to shield himself from his adversaries.
Deathswarms, with their imposing size, proved ideal for this purpose, while more powerful undead such as death knights served to challenge formidable opponents and bolster Orcus's offensive capabilities.
Effective utilization of Orcus's [Fell Command] was key, particularly when combined with powerful undead allies to maximize their impact on the battlefield.
[Fell Command]. An undead creature of Orcus's choice that he can can see within 120 feet of him immediately takes an action.
Before engaging in combat, Orcus ensured he possessed a formidable army of undead minions, carefully selecting creatures that complemented his abilities and tactics.
Avoiding legendary creatures to prevent potential complications, Orcus opted for potent undead allies such as giants or young dragons, whose imposing presence could not be ignored.
Rather than remaining stationary in the rear lines, Orcus strategically maneuvered himself toward vulnerable foes, delivering punishing [Wand] attacks while employing [Clutch] to keep more formidable adversaries at bay.
Through strategic positioning and effective utilization of his abilities, Orcus ensured that the coverage of his [Tenebrous Shroud] maximized its lethality, resulting in the inevitable demise of at least a few players unfortunate enough to jumped into the old demon without knowing how his skills work.
"This boss is incredibly powerful! We can't even get close to him because he surrounds himself with undead. The moment we do get near, he releases this fog of necrotic magic that drains our life!"
"And don't forget, he can reap us in the backlines and finish off our mages."
"We have to think of something or we'll be wiped out!"
"Have the reinforcements arrived yet?!"
Suddenly, a thunderous voice boomed, emanating from Hubrion who appeared to be flying towards Orcus with his axe raised high.
"Orcus, your head is mine!"