(Attendances… plz…)
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The blinding light, brighter than anything or more like it just sucked out the colour from the world around them, illuminated the entire forest for miles and miles around.
It was the aftermath of an attack so powerful it had laid waste to eight thousand orcs, erasing them from existence, while the bodies of the two thousand who had made it into the village lay silent on the scorched earth.
No ogre in the village could comprehend what they had just witnessed. What was that? How did it happen? They just couldn't understand.
What followed the blinding light was an aftermath almost as terrifying as the attack itself.
From Reinhard's position at the epicenter, a powerful gust of wind exploded outwards, extinguishing the remaining flames in the village and sending loose debris flying.
An attack of that magnitude was bound to have consequences. The ogres, their eyes still recovering from the flash, couldn't see anything clearly.
They just knew that something immense and powerful had just occurred.
…
When the light finally faded and the wind died down, Reinhard broke his stance. He brought his hand up in front of him, looking at the borrowed katana. It had served its purpose.
As he watched, the simple, mud-caked blade began to crumble, turning to dust in his hand and blowing away on the gentle breeze.
"Thank you," Reinhard muttered to the fading part of it. "And I'm sorry that I asked too much of you. You did well. Rest now."
It was a quiet eulogy for a simple tool that had been forced to channel an impossible amount of power.
There was no joy in his voice, no sense of victory.
Even though he had thwarted the attack and saved the ogre village, there were still those who had lost their lives, those who had fallen protecting their homes and their families.
He turned back to the village. The fires that had been raging just moments before were now gone, extinguished by the powerful backdraft of his attack.
As he turned, he saw two figures walking toward him from the center of the village: the young, red-haired ogre he had saved earlier, and an old, white-haired ogre, both clad in worn, battle-scarred armor.
Behind them, the pink-haired princess and the other survivors followed, their faces a mixture of awe, fear, and profound relief.
The two ogres stopped a few feet in front of him. The red-haired one's eyes locked onto Reinhard's, searching, trying to understand, to deduce anything at all about the being who stood before him.
But one truth remained, and he and the other survivors were the living proof of it: this man had saved them all.
The red-haired ogre placed a hand on his chest, and the old one followed his lead. It was a gesture of respect, not aggression. He then dropped to one knee, his head bowed, his gaze fixed on the ground.
"Thank you," he said, his voice rough with emotion and exhaustion. "Thank you for saving my village, and everyone in it. If not for you… we would have been wiped out by those orcs tonight."
Many had died, including the young ogre's parents, the chief and his wife. Now, with his father gone, he was the new leader of his people.
Following his lead, the old ogre also knelt, bowing his head in a silent display of gratitude.
Reinhard looked at the kneeling ogres. They were a proud warrior race, now bowing to him. But he didn't feel like a savior. He had simply cleaned up the mess.
"Please," he said, his voice quiet but clear in the sudden silence of the battlefield. "I am not someone you need to kneel for."
The red-haired ogre looked up, his crimson eyes filled with a mixture of grief and profound gratitude. "But you…"
"If not for the fallen ogres who fought to protect their homes, I would have arrived too late," Reinhard interrupted gently but firmly.
"If anything, I just finished off the orcs. The ones who truly saved your village were all of you."
It wasn't false modesty. It was how he truly felt. He had no problem accepting gratitude when it was earned, but he hadn't protected them. He had only avenged them.
The red-haired ogre stood up, his gaze locking with Reinhard's. "Still," he said, his voice firm, "we thank you. Now, if I may ask… who are you? And what brought you here? I can try to believe this was a coincidence, but… I have a feeling it is not. What do you know about these orcs?"
It was a direct, pointed question. He was thankful, but he was also a leader, and a mysterious, impossibly powerful human appearing out of nowhere to save them was anything but a simple coincidence.
The old, white-haired ogre beside him looked alarmed. "Young master, you…" he began, but the red-haired one cut him off.
"Enough, old man. Let me speak." He looked back at Reinhard. "Is it?"
Reinhard didn't hide the truth. "A majin," he said directly. "Didn't a majin stop by your village earlier? I found him in the forest, mumbling about how he was about to achieve something. When he saw me, he showed his anger toward your village, saying how you all turned down his request to be named by him and to serve under him. That's how I knew to come here. After he said that there would be nothing left of the village that denied him."
The red-haired ogre's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. "Just for that?" he snarled, pure rage burning in his eyes. "Because I didn't want a name from him… because I didn't want to serve him… just because of that, he sent those filthy orcs to attack our village?" His teeth ground together. He looked at Reinhard, his voice now a low, dangerous calm. "If I may ask… where is that Majin now?"
Reinhard shook his head slowly. "I understand your anger… but I'm afraid there is no one for you to direct it at. That majin is no longer alive. I killed him."
The ogre's eyes widened. He had to remind himself of what he had just witnessed. This man had wiped out an army with a single attack. Of course he had killed the majin. He believed him.
"Is that so," the ogre said, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I would have wanted revenge for what he had done… but if he is already dead, then there is nothing I can do." He bowed his head again, this time in a gesture of deep, personal gratitude. "Me and my people owe you a debt that I don't think we will ever be able to repay. Thank you, once again."
"Please, don't mention it," Reinhard said. "You don't owe me anything. But the danger hasn't ended yet. There are still orcs in the forest, consuming everything they find."
The white-haired ogre spoke up. "But didn't the entire orc army come here and die by your attack? It was clearly a massive army, sent to wipe us all out."
Reinhard shook his head. "It was. But it was merely five percent of their total army. The entire orc army is said to be two hundred thousand in numbers. What came to attack your village was just ten thousand or something of them."
The surviving ogres gasped, their eyes wide with horror at the number. They had been nearly wiped out by just a fraction of the force that had been sent after them.
"That… that's impossible," the red-haired ogre said, his voice shaking. "Two hundred thousand… no orc leader could lead an army that large. How would they even feed themselves?"
"Unless it is a legendary Orc Lord, young master," the old ogre said, his voice grave.
"What? But that's just a legend, old man. Nothing more."
"It seems not, young master," the old ogre replied, his gaze grim. "If the numbers are true, it can only be the work of an Orc Lord. And as for how they are surviving… they have already shown us. They were… eating their own and our dead."
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A/N: hmmmmm…. Wooohoooo my shadow banned is lifted so i will be able to reply to the comments. But i will do it in moderate numbers and not every question which i had already answered.
Next two chapters are already on my discord.
Melatonin, spawn and many more on my discord … thanks for beta reading this fic and not to mention suggestions too.
Hoped you all liked the chapter and all.
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