Please Call Me the Hundred-Handed Death God (Part 2)

What the hell was Aivis?

Duke didn't know. But he could guess that since the Naga had originated from Queen Azshara of the High Elves and her direct nobles, it was probably the name of a relatively prestigious Naga clan.

Sure enough, the moment that title came out, those dim-witted Murlocs shuddered as if they had pissed themselves and all turned suspicious eyes toward Duke, the "Messenger of the Sea."

"Hmph!" Duke snorted coldly.

He didn't know why the Murlocs were kneeling before him, but it probably had something to do with the Mage Hands he had created.

Wasn't it just about having more hands?

Come on, then! Who was afraid of whom!

Duke raised a hand, and the system sprite immediately activated its coordination.

Though [Mage Hand] had become a level-two spell after being enhanced, its energy consumption and requirements were no more than those of a lowly level-zero cantrip!

There was no burden at all!

In an instant, 108 Mage Hands flickering with azure arcane radiance floated neatly in the air in an intricate twin-wing formation.

The sheer presence was absolutely top-notch.

The only thing that left Duke dumbfounded was the gesture of those Mage Hands—why the hell were they all giving the middle finger?!

What did a forest of middle fingers look like? This was a forest of middle fingers!

Those glaring middle fingers radiated supreme contempt and disdain.

"Hey! What is this? Why are they all middle fingers?" Duke roared at the system sprite in his mind.

"Uh, that was the gesture I detected most often from the host, so I accidentally set it as the default casting gesture for [Mage Hand]."

"Change it! Change them all! Ordinary open palms from now on!"

"As you wish."

Fortunately, the universal gesture seemed not to be universal here. Neither the Murlocs nor the Naga understood it.

However, the Murlocs perfectly misunderstood the gesture Duke had made.

After serving aquatic higher lifeforms as slaves for over ten thousand years, the Murlocs had not remembered much, but there was one gesture they had to remember: the direction their superiors pointed toward always meant only one thing—you trash, attack!

"Gawo gawo lala oh! (This Sea God has more hands! He's the real one! Kill the low-ranking impostor!)—"

Well, six-armed Naga were tougher than four-armed ones, and eight-armed ones were stronger than six-armed ones.

Anyway, in the Murlocs' simple little minds, whoever had more hands was the boss. Duke had a full 108 hands, so he was obviously the genuine ancient Sea God!

Whether Duke himself believed it or not, the Murlocs certainly did!

Duke's hundred-plus Mage Hands seemed to inject a kind of power into the hearts of these rather foolish creatures—a power called confidence. In the era when marine creatures had been at their strongest, they had ruled all of Azeroth. Sea monsters with multiple arms were like banners on the battlefield; wherever they stood was where the will of the sea resided—absolutely invincible!

Instead of the hide-and-seek-like "battle" from before, the Murlocs surged with courage and swarmed back toward the Naga.

Murlocs were not purely melee creatures. Not only did some carry simple spears and other weapons, but quite a few Murloc sages also had spell-light glowing in their hands.

The utterly unscientific fact that Murlocs could cast [Frostbolt] was perfectly demonstrated in the world of Azeroth.

The Naga were undeniably stronger than the Murlocs, but not strong enough to ignore their numbers.

The face of the female Naga leading them turned pale.

Unable to disregard these frenzied Murlocs, the female Naga named Aivis finally forced out a single word. "Go!"

They did not dare retreat into the sea behind them. They could only risk charging toward the mouth of a small river to Duke's left, hoping to flee into Westfall for shelter.

A smile touched Duke's lips. Not only did he not stop that group of Naga, the Mage Hands continued pointing in the same direction—at the Naga behind them!

The Murlocs engaged the rear Naga. Even if they were not utterly routed, they were still throwing themselves away.

Many male Naga wielded enormous tridents like spinning wheels of fire, each sweeping strike cleaving at least one Murloc in two. Yet the Murlocs' fearless savagery shocked them.

Once upon a time, as long as one Murloc was lightly stabbed, the rest would scream and flee. But now? Fear and terror could still be seen in their eyes, yet it was clear they were being controlled by a deeper terror and a stronger will.

Everything was obviously coming from that human standing on the beach, surrounded by countless hands of light!

"How dare you! A mere human dares command the servants of us Naga to attack us?!" The largest Naga leader flew into a rage!

Completely ignoring the Frostbolts of the Murloc sages, he suddenly swung his trident. Three consecutive sweeping strikes dyed the surrounding sea red with Murloc blood and entrails.

His long, sea-serpent-like tail lashed violently, carving a clear white wake across the rippling waters as he sped closer and closer!

In barely twenty seconds, he had slaughtered his way through the entire Murloc line, reached the shore, and charged to within ten paces of Duke.

"Insignificant human! Pay the price for defiling the gods of the sea—the price is your life!"

Duke was actually pretty shaky when it came to naval battles. When it came to swimming, he was only good for fifty meters in a pool; any farther, and he would be playing sinker—why else would he sink into the water?

But Naga that came ashore... hehe!

The male Naga, who had been so imposing just moments ago, looking as though he were saying, "There are tens of millions as badass as me," suddenly panicked.

He felt the moisture around him evaporating at high speed.

[Dalson's Scorching Furnace] activated!

Almost instantly, the wet, warm beach beneath his feet became a dry, blazing desert of death. The scorching sand irritated his poorly protected snake belly, and the rapidly soaring temperature threw him into panic.

The droplets clinging to his scales vanished with a sizzle, leaving large scorch marks behind. It was as though countless invisible little hands were forcibly digging out every molecule of moisture from the gaps between his scales and even from his skin.

He could clearly see his swollen body shriveling rapidly. The water he depended on for survival was being forcibly taken away, and his entire body seemed to have been cast into a desperate hell of blazing flames!

He panicked!

"No—you, what kind of foul sorcery is this?!" he cried, trying to throw his trident and impale Duke in a single blow.

Useless!

Dozens of azure hands of light appeared in the air and seized him before he could throw the trident. Powerful force surged from those palms, as though dozens of burly adult humans were pinning him down.

To his horror, he discovered that he could not move at all!