Heavy Metal [ A Monster Evolution LitRPG ]
Chapter 144 – Sun Powered.

The Warchief stepped forward with heavy, menacing footsteps, his massive greataxe slung over one shoulder as if it weighed nothing. His tusks gleamed under the moonlight, and his red-painted armor still bore streaks of blood from the last battlefield. The other three orcs fanned out beside him, in an attempt to form a loose semi-circle around Rusty. Each one held a different weapon: a flail, a hammer, and a blade. Rusty took a step back and looked at the classification of the Orcs that were before him.

‘This isn’t good… three D ranks and one C rank…’

Rusty stood before a group of four enemies, all of them holding higher ranks than he did. Three Orc Warriors and one Orc Warchief. Any one of them alone could likely defeat him with ease. He had been so focused on wiping out the lesser orc encampment that he forgot to use his life detection skill to check for reinforcements. It was a costly mistake, and now he had to deal with the consequences. As much as he wanted to test his mettle against the Orc Warriors, there was no chance he could win against the towering Orc Warchief.

“Rusty, we need to run!”

“For once, I agree with the hero, we must escape!”

Both of his guides called out to him as he slowly backed away. The monsters ahead had clearly recognized him as a serious threat. Their weapons were drawn, yet they still continued scanning the rest of the encampment, probably confused about the damage one living armor had caused. 

“I know! Gleam, do that thing we talked about!”

“ ( •̀ - •́ ) ”

In a flash, Gleam sprang from Rusty's chest compartment, slipping through the neck opening as if it were second nature. Her silvery, ant-like form shimmered under the dim torchlight, instantly drawing the attention of the orcs. They gripped their weapons more tightly, expecting an attack. But she wasn't there to fight, she was there to blind.

Without warning, a brilliant beam of light burst from her antennae, radiating outward like a miniature sun. The sudden flash was intense, forcing the Orcs to cry out in pain and recoil. They screamed together, caught completely off guard. While Rusty had once hoped to use this tactic for a surprise assault, he knew he had no chance of winning now. Without hesitation, he turned, grabbed his helmet, and sprinted away. Gleam leapt onto his back, clinging tightly for the ride.

Rusty barreled through the undergrowth, crashing through branches and brush like a silent thunderstorm. Behind him, the blinded orcs shouted, cursing in orcish roars as they stumbled after him, eyes watering and vision seared by Gleam’s light spell. The forest stretched out endlessly, seemingly the perfect place to lose his pursuers, except for one looming problem. The night was almost over.

‘Should I hide? Or will that Orc find me anyway?’

He still had his shadow melding skill. As long as darkness remained, he could probably use it to hide. But once his mana ran out, they would hunt him down again. He didn’t know how skilled these orcs were at tracking, but the Warchief was clearly no ordinary enemy. Worse still, he could call for reinforcements. If that happened, Rusty wouldn’t stand a chance.

‘I tried that once before. There aren’t any clouds. If I find a clearing, it might work… but still…’

Concealment wasn’t his only option. He had another skill that could help him escape—one with more risk, but also more promise. The problem was, he couldn’t use it while Gleam was with him, not even if she retreated back inside his body. Still, it gave him a chance. If he could get the Orcs to keep chasing him, Gleam could slip away to safety, and he could meet up with her later.

“Aburdon, is there a clearing nearby with no trees?”

“A clearing? I believe there’s one toward the north side, but it’ll probably take some time to reach.”

“That’s good enough. Gleam… we need to split up here.”

“( • ᴖ • )”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’m going to use the shiny.”

“You want to do that? But you can’t really control it.”

“If you have a better idea, say it now.”

Alexander questioned Rusty's plan, his voice clearly doubtful. But silence followed. Neither of his guides had a better suggestion. They likely knew that hiding wouldn’t work, not with daylight fast approaching. After several more minutes of running, Rusty finally came to a halt beneath a towering tree. He waited as Gleam climbed up its trunk and spoke up to her once she was on top. 

“Stick to the branches. Let’s regroup near Ferndale. Don’t worry, I’ll be back safely”

“(｡•́︿•̀｡)”

Gleam was clearly unhappy, but she understood. The plan would not work if she stayed with him, and they both knew it. If something went wrong, she could still use her tracking skills to find his next location. With that unspoken agreement, they separated. Rusty ran in a different direction, crashing loudly through the forest to draw the orcs away from her.

‘I don’t have much mana left…’

While sprinting, he dropped one of his body parts behind him. A moment later, it exploded with a sharp burst of twilight energy. In the distance, the sounds of pursuit grew louder. The Orcs were crashing through the underbrush, their low-pitched voices filled with rage, their heavy steps shaking the ground. His stamina was unlimited, but his speed was no match for theirs. They were closing in fast. Still, if the plan worked, all he needed was to reach the clearing. If he made it in time, the morning sun would flood over his meta body, and that would be enough to complete his goal.

He weaved through the forest in a zigzag pattern, trying to throw off his pursuers. Without Gleam’s silencing spell, his metal footsteps rang out clearly through the trees. But that too was intentional. The noise was meant to draw the Orcs farther away, giving his partner the best chance to escape unnoticed.

At last, he burst through the thick brush and into the clearing. Branches scraped against his armor as he emerged into the open space, the dull gleam of his plating catching the first light of dawn. The forest opened around him, quiet for a moment as the world shifted from night to day. The sun had begun to rise, spilling soft golden light across the grass, but it was still too early. His skill required more sunlight to activate fully.

‘The sun is shining... it might take a few minutes to charge.’

He stood motionless, positioning himself to let the morning rays strike his metallic frame. Every second under the sun mattered now. His body needed time to absorb the light, to gather enough energy for the skill that might save him. But the moment of calm was cut short by a sound in the trees. The rustling of leaves and the thud of heavy footsteps grew louder. From the shadows of the forest, an Orc stepped into view.

Rusty tensed. He had not expected them to catch up so quickly. The echoes through the trees should have masked his true path. But this one had followed him regardless. It was not the Warchief, at least. Just one of the Warriors, and from the looks of it, he was alone as there was no sign of the others.

The Orc Warrior stood at the edge of the clearing, squinting through the weak morning light. His broad chest rose and fell with every breath, his flail twitching in his grip, already slick with old blood. He shifted his thick neck, eyes narrowing as he spotted his target—Rusty, the living armor, standing silently about fifty meters away.

“It might be better to retreat. We’ll find a better place to do this, Rusty”

Alexander urged, his voice tense, but Rusty didn’t move. Instead, he shifted weapons, stowing his longsword away and pulling out a poleaxe in its place.

“Haha, Rusty, don’t let your recent victories cloud your judgment. That’s a D-rank monster”

Aburdon said, his tone uncharacteristically cautious. He clearly didn’t want his host to take unnecessary risks. Maybe he was worried about what would happen to them if Rusty fell, when their bodiless forms were left without a host. Rusty wasn’t listening as his visor locked onto the orc.

“That one is only level two. He was the weakest of those Orc Warriors…”

While Rusty was still classified as an E-plus rank monster, his level had nearly reached its peak. He had been granted over-points, a rare boon that pushed his capabilities far beyond what was typical for his rank. He was an elite among his kind, stronger, faster, and more durable than most others at his level.

To him, this orc was not just a threat but an opportunity. A chance to prove himself against a foe stronger than the mindless weaklings he had crushed so easily before. This was the kind of opponent worthy of his attention.

The two combatants stared at one another, the golden light of dawn slowly creeping over the clearing, glinting off Rusty’s armor. He didn’t move, didn’t flinch, just stood like a statue forged for war. His poleaxe gleamed in his hands, the steel of the curved blade shimmering as it caught the sunlight. A gentle breeze stirred the treetops. Leaves shifted before the moment of truth, which started with the monster's roar. 

This shout was not normal. It was a battle cry that enhanced the monster's abilities while also trying to intimidate its opponent. Rusty was not a being of flesh, so fear-based attacks were mostly ineffective. Still, he activated a similar skill called ‘Basic Terror Aura’ in response to the charging Orc. But that was not all. His body became surrounded by a haze of twilight as he also used ‘Lesser Twilight Embrace’ and the ‘Fury’ skill he gained from a different orc.

The orc’s rush was fast, far faster than anything Rusty had faced among the lower-rank monsters. It tore up grass and dirt, the heavy flail dragging through the clearing as it gained momentum. Each step thundered like a war drum, building to the inevitable crash. But Rusty didn’t wait. He surged forward too, matching the monster’s speed thanks to all the buffing effects he had activated. 

Twilight wrapped around him, pulsing in rhythm with his steps. The aura of terror he exuded clashed with the orc’s battle cry, their effects colliding invisibly in the space between them. Though the orc’s eyes blazed with bloodlust, a flicker of hesitation rippled across his face the moment Rusty entered its striking range.

Rusty’s poleaxe spun in a clean arc, not aimed at the orc’s chest or head, but lower at his legs. The curved blade sang through the air, reinforced with twilight energy, and connected with the orc’s left thigh just as the monster lifted it for a stomp. Bone cracked. Flesh split. The orc faltered mid-charge, stumbling forward with a snarl of pain.

But the Orc did not go down. Instead, it swung its heavy flail in a brutal counterattack. Rusty stepped back to create distance, but the weapon's reach was too great. The flail struck his shield with such force that it flew from his armored hands. Instinctively, he grabbed his poleaxe and thrust it forward, landing another hit. Yet the monsters kept coming, seemingly immune to pain.

The exchange of blows between them was brutal, and time was running out. Rusty could barely hold his own against the berserk monsters, relying heavily on his self-buffing skills. But the longer the fight dragged on, the closer he edged toward defeat. He had only one way to restore his mana. Quickly, he stepped back and summoned a blue potion into his hand. Without hesitation, he smashed the glass bottle against his metallic chest, allowing the mana-restoring liquid to soak into his frame. It was not as effective as a mana crystal, but it was enough to recover some energy and keep fighting.

His poleaxe reversed, the blunt hammer on the opposite end now smashing upward, catching the orc beneath the jaw. The flail the monster carried went flying, its wielder dazed and wobbling. Rusty didn’t let up. He followed with a downward chop while using the weapon with two hands. Yet the monster ducked to the side and then launched at him without his weapon in hand.

Rusty suddenly found himself lifted into the air, the muscular monster gripping him tightly with both hands and squeezing with crushing force. Though his body buckled under the pressure, the twilight steel, rated with a durability rank of D, did not give in. Reacting quickly, he released his poleaxe and summoned two short blades into his hands. Without hesitation, he drove them into the confused monster’s back.

The Orc Warrior groaned and flung him aside, but Rusty's gauntlets and blades remained lodged in its back to seal the deal. With the last of his strength, he triggered the twilight mix, which exploded in a burst of energy, tearing the monster apart and leaving behind a gory mess.

He heard the familiar words, but there was no time to celebrate. Two more Orcs emerged from the forest, flanking their leader who lumbered behind them with a casual, terrifying confidence. Now was the time to flee. His body had absorbed enough sunlight, and it was time to use it - Basic Elemental Meld.

He had attempted to use this skill before, but it had never worked. As it turned out, his body needed to absorb a certain amount of light for it to fully function, and today’s bright sunlight was perfect. His hands quickly regenerated, and he grabbed another mana potion to replenish more of his energy. But as the Orcs noticed this, the two warriors began to charge.

"Hey, which direction is the city in?"

"It should be... to the southeast from here."

Once Aburdon responded, Rusty began activating his skill. His twilight-forged body started to glow, radiating an intense light that slowly turned into shimmering particles. He pivoted to face the direction he needed to go and braced himself for the skill’s activation.

But just as he was about to vanish, something unexpected happened. The Warchief hurled his massive axe straight at him. Rusty stumbled to dodge, thrown off balance right before the skill could fully engage.

Then, in a flash of light, his body dissolved into a beam and shot into the distance. The monsters halted, staring in stunned silence. Nothing remained where Rusty had stood, except a few fading wisps of white light drifting through the air…