by Han Yang
I hastily selected GROUP and highlighted eight of the biggest orcs as green.
Claiming all the selected dead as a minion will result in you earning Ostriva and Nordan points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
I continued.
You selected to claim 8 minions. Consume 91.392 Zorta to summon these creatures as minions of the undead. Confirm (YES) - (NO)
A thousand ghoulish souls materialized in the clouds, shrieking in tormented anger. Like a horde of locusts, the ghouls swarmed down, reaping flesh from the selected dead.
My reaper slithered out of my chest, stretching happily with a tired lip smack.
“Oh, fun, orcs,” he said boringly.
I shuddered, hating the fact he resided in my body.
“Is there some secret spell to repair all my minions in a single burst?” I asked, the commotion of terrified orcs drowning out my words.
He heard somehow, saying, “Yes,” and nothing more.
Of course, the tease of the reaper.
Both spells completed, and the sky transitioned from black to blue. I glanced around, seeing at least a few dozen dead goblin not revived and a few matogators who were being stripped of their bases.
The army quickly reassembled into formations, facing the coming threats. I glanced up, covering my brow with a hand. Yeah… our crossbows would probably only do so much against a few hundred dragons, wyverns, eagles, and griffins.
A single wyvern left the swarm, a yellow pennant flying behind the beast. The animal did lazy circles, waiting for us to reply.
“Parlay, interesting,” Yermica said.
Her youthful face twisted in pain. Her belly was showing, and she had a hand to her lower back. Trolls obviously had a faster birthing rate, even if they were close to a human.
“Why is that interesting?” I asked.
“He could win with minimal losses and then free his troops. Instead, he wants to talk. This is not a brash chieftain. Likely, his commander was trying to mimic his boss. Not all orcs are so hesitant,” Yermica said, shifting on her feet. “He also will know you’re the magic user.”
“If the enemy is sending messages that I’m coming, they probably included what I look like,” I grumbled, realizing the gig of her being the caster was over. “Let’s hope we find a happy medium.”
“Permissions to start collecting the orbs from the dead?” Asha asked, and I nodded.
“Assuming we have a yellow flag,” I said.
“We do,” Nee mentioned.
“Alright, I want everyone working that can. Get this army ready to move. I want the orbs collected, a pyre built, and all the loot sorted, including whatever that village held. Find out who wants to join us from the survivors,” I ordered in a boisterous voice. After, I turned to Yermica. “I’ll revive one of the fallen when I return and then heal the injured matogators who can’t walk.”
Nee reached into a sack, found a yellow pennant, and a few moments later waved the signal.
“It is extremely in poor taste to do what we did,” Yermica said.
“Huh?” I blurted.
“They came to negotiate for our prisoners, and you altered them. I highly recommend avoiding doing such ever again,” Yermica advised.
“Neat trick, though,” Tarla said with a smirk. “I certainly found it amusing to see their shock at shrinking.” She huffed, eyeing the battlefield. “What a mess.”
“Ah, yeah, it’s going to take a while to clean up this battlefield,” I said with a sigh.
I glanced at the thousand plus orc who had surrendered. They stood in a circle with skeleton matogators keeping them corralled. Their agitation seemed to relax after the yellow flags were exchanged.
I did grow a tad concerned when the entire swarm flew for my army. The orcs landed in the distance with their flock of large dragons, wyverns, ravens, bald eagles, falcons and griffins. Seeing the great birds even from this distance brought awe. This Torro chieftain controlled far more power than I ever anticipated.
A hundred of the largest orcs I’d ever seen walked across the farm fields.
I left my army with Nee, Yermica, and Tarla. Sprinkles clacked his teeth for attention, and I ordered him to stay. Even though I figured this was going to be a peaceful meeting, I didn’t dare venture halfway.
A full head taller than the others, Torro stood at the same height as an ogre. His advisors were all legendary in their sizes, making the defeated orcs seem miniscule.
Ostriva fascinated me. The minotaurs growing with power, goblins ranking up to goblin ogre, in legend, and now orcs becoming monsters in size. The fact truly was frightening, and humanity was right to be wary.
“Puny human,” Torro said, between massive jutting tusks.
He wore plain brown robes and walked with a staff engrained with images of animals. I quickly deduced this was a beast master who tamed dragons. This power had likely earned him a horde.
His advisors and generals swapped between heavy armor and similar plain robes. Everything about this coalition of orcs screamed efficiency without lavishness. They even lacked trinket decorations or flare in their beards or hair.
“Mighty War Chief Torro,” I said with an inclined nod of respect. “I welcome you to the field of battle.”
“How?” he asked, his voice deep and unsettling.
I deduced what he wanted to know.
“We held equal numbers with a range advantage. Dwarven catapults and dwarven crossbows. The initial enemy general hesitated, trying to find an opening. He had laid extensive traps and properly prepared a battlefield, but he expected to fight another orc type army. I think he was on the verge of taking a small loss to regroup when he was slain by one of his own,” I said.
The orcs growled. Their guttural noises were so deep they reverberated through my bones. I had a feeling they hated that the commander was betrayed.
I went through my new minions, bringing forward my second tallest skeleton from my army.
“Impressive,” an orc said from the back. “Sorry, Boss. That would be the betrayer. How did he die?”
“I punted him across the farms. His body didn’t take enough damage, so I salvaged him,” I said, feeling honesty worked best here.
Torro nodded to a different orc, and I averted my eyes from a sudden brightness. The spell was but a flash. When I glanced back the orc stood stationary.
“Unsuppress memories,” I ordered.
The orc blinked, his mind coming back to his body. His face inclined down, contorting in a snarl at seeing me, and then unbridled shock when he glanced up at Torro.
The War Chief clapped two hands together in an amazingly fast motion.
Crack! The crushed skull turned to mush.
Pop! The brains shot out backwards.
The headless corpse toppled. I got a notification my minion had died.
I gulped, the violence was so sudden.
Hell, the magic to revive him had been instant.
The power of a magus was profound and witnessing it close up was awe inspiring.
I rocked back and forth on my feet, completely ignoring the fact that Nee kicked the corpse.
“We are at an impasse,” Torro said, glaring down at me in hate.
He bent over, scrubbing the gore off his hands.
“Okay,” I said.
“You do not wish to grovel before my might?” Torro asked.
“I’d rather die on my feet than grovel on my knees, or so the saying goes,” I replied. “However, yes, I respect your power and fear you. I’d rather not fight a losing battle and die in vain.”
He nodded, inclining his head from one of his minions to me. I was given a piece of parchment.
I unrolled the document, and read, “Damien Moonguard is a human in Ostriva lands. We’re offering one hundred thousand Z for his live capture.” I snorted. “I mean… if they have that on them, maybe I should turn around.”
“Ah… You think they lie?” Torro asked.
“I think they’re desperat
e and fear what I am,” I commented.
“A champion of Ostriva,” the orc in the back spoke again.
He was likely an advisor. I could tell he was extremely curious. While the others lazed about, he was solely focused on me. I had something he would value too; information to a scholar was always priceless.
“Umm. I… Hmm… I don’t want to offend your beliefs, but I have news. There are no Ostriva or Nordan gods. Just gods who rule over the six planets. The six planets are tied together, and they pick champions to come here, treating this planet and Ostriva Prime as arenas of sorts. The humans buy into the notion Arax is a human god, but he has ogre champions,” I said.
“Boss, I’d give anything to speak to a champion who is so candid. It could alter our entire mission,” the scholar orc said.
Torro scoffed and said, “Jari is my god and that won’t change that he wants Ostriva to win. Do you disagree?”
“No, not in the slightest, Mighty War Chief. Jari wants to win, and if he favors Ostriva species, he can avoid humans or elves or dwarves. I find that the gods tend to pick sides, but like I said. Arax is the winning god, and he has two sides that fight for him. We’re pieces to a board game that they play,” I said.
Torro unfolded his arms, clapping his hands together happily. “Jari wants to win with patience and guile.”
“I agree. They are driven to win with rewards, and they add boons to their people and pick champions from their faithful,” I said.
This was like I snapped a finger. The moment they heard that gods selected from the devout, they paid attention with a newfound curiosity.
I kept going. “There’s a human champion in that army chasing me. A devout believer in Arax who conned him. But you know, human problems.”
“Conned him?” the scholar asked.
They all listened with rapt attention.
“Arax sold himself as a god of Nordan before the competition began. Sorry, the mists or cataclysm. Toneba believed in his god with such devotion he never realized the new gods from the cataclysm were just like Arax. Not actually any different, just… less deceitful because they started their churches when they were supposed to.
“Maybe there was no rule about starting early, and the other gods were foolish to wait. I don’t have that answer, but I do know Toneba hated the post cataclysm world and believed Arax hated it too. The reality is different.
“Arax is not a Nordan god wishing the Ostrivia people would go away. He is a god earning favor from his followers and reaping the benefits to gain more champions and perks,” I said.
“Jari. If he earns Zorta, he can earn more champions?” Torro asked.
“According to my god, yes. Jari could earn eight slots from his current two if he passes Arax in power. To do so he needs churches and donations,” I said. “And defeating his human churches will help Jari. My god is weak, defeating her churches or me wouldn’t help nearly as much.”
“As I proclaimed for years,” the scholar said.
I could see him wanting to rub it in, but he shut his mouth quickly.
“You’ve given me much to contemplate. What are your desires with my orcs?” Torro asked, pointing to the defeated mass of soldiers.
“They’ll never serve me, so trade?” I offered.
“Where are you going?” Torro asked. “And why is there a minotaur watching us talk.”
I glanced around, ensuring only my faithful were nearby. Nick stood near the wagons, watching our exchange. “The minotaur is a young student. He is tagging along to learn from a necromancer. As for my goal, I want to transition through your lands until I reach the Great Herd Plains.”
This didn’t interest them. The advisors and even Torro grew bored again.
“Who is your god?” he asked.
“Caitlyn, a low-ranking god,” I admitted.
“I don’t know her,” the scholar admitted. “May I also join the minotaur, Boss? I promise to -”
Torro held up a meaty hand, halting his advisor.
“We’re not friends. I’ll never ally a human, nor will I ever treat them as an ally. I will trade for my soldiers. Their lives for me ignoring you. However, I will not stop my under-bosses from hunting you and therefore Parnic will not be allowed to join you. He may trade you for your written knowledge how he sees fit,” Torro said, gazing down at me like an ant.
“And the offer for the orc, trolls, and goblins?” I asked.
“Just the orcs. Nothing for my interference. Unless you need me to say it a third time,” Torro said.
I think he was daring me to counter. I chose not to tempt fate instead.
“Minions, move away from the orcs. They’re to travel to the north freely,” I said.
Torro didn’t say anything else. He left with his advisors, and I hoped that much like General Karde, I’d never see him again.
“So champion, I have a few hours and a special gift to trade. How about we decide what knowledge you can impart on an old orc?” Parnic asked.
I smirked and replied, “Let me tell you about Earth and what a meme is. There’s a whole other side to humanity you couldn’t even imagine.”
He frowned but followed us back to our camp.
“Who’s going to ensure the orcs make it safely?” I asked.
“We have a large aerial force that watches over the area. Count your blessings. Torro marshalled his armies and even considered killing you himself. The only reason he doesn’t, I would guess, is because Nara has marched south with a huge army of their own,” Parnic said.
“So, he wants me dead, but doesn’t want to divert from the bigger prize?” I asked.
“That and he can always come kill you next. But you amused him, instead of angering him, and you showed him your true side, the necromancer. He cannot argue that you control the powers of the dead and therefore are from Ostriva,” Parnic informed me.
Asha arrived with a report that I opened.
Battle of Cabbage Fields.
Our losses after revivals -
32 goblins.
6 matogators.
1 wagon in need of repairs.
Enemy loses -
1072 orcs - average 7 Zorta per.
613 trolls - average 3 Zorta per.
Loot gained from the battlefield -
Bows, swords, 2 catapults, numerous gold coins, and excess of metal for metal.
Loot gained from the village -
920 Zorta, two chests of gold, seventeen horses, six wagons.
Wolf pups were forcefully taken from the retreating orcs.
New recruits -
173 Trolls.
438 Goblins.
I thanked him, knowing there was still a lot of work to do.
Nick joined us as we headed back to the army, and I continued to answer questions about gods, the six planets, and every needling curiosity Parnic had. The only subjects I dodged were my powers and limits. For the rest, I was an open book.
I had to hope this helped me in the long term. One thing was certain. If Torro didn’t want to attack me because of another force, he wouldn’t attack Tao and Toneba for me. I’d have to push on with my plan and hope they didn’t catch up to me.
CHAPTER 60
Kato Hills
“I think he lied,” Nick said, riding his matogator next to my wagon. The minotaur sunbathed on a crude chair that was latched to the platform atop his skeletal mount. Next the decking extended far enough that all his camping supplies were neatly attached at the back end. “Parnic sure did make a lot of assurances after his endless questions.”
“It’s only been four days,” I said with a shrug. I pulled my cloak tighter, hating the wind on the otherwise lovely fall day. “I’m not too concerned. If Parnic gleaned free information, fine. He never promised anything more than a prize anyway. Which is more than you offered for your incessant questions.”
“Ah! The crux of the issue. My friend. I stopped three spells from hitting the catapults,” Nick reminded me for the third time.
; I rolled my eyes, enjoying his banter. We had been trading friendly exchanges to help pass the boorish time.
Honestly, I liked Nick the minotaur. He was straightforward and different. Each day, he added additional little details to his mount, leaving me to reflect on the state of the army.
After cleaning the battlefield, we had two primary issues. For one, a new orc army, about a quarter of our size, had appeared from the south. This new threat continued to trail us, some of the forces peeling off while new small bands joined them. They kept looking for an opening, but we never gave them one.
The other issue was all the new additions forced us back into the walk, then ride, then walk rotation because we had too many bodies and not enough wagons or platforms. Adding hundreds of new trolls and goblins became a logistical issue.
Then we had to factor getting them all up to standards with the army while on the move. The new recruits needed to eat to put on weight. The problems, while trivial, needed fixes. For the most part, goblins or trolls ran to keep pace while others rested.
To pass the time, Sprinkles would pluck all the random trees off the mostly grassy hills. Those trees entered a chain of sorts.
Famo and the dwarves would carve planks out of trees from the roof of their wagons. Each slat wasn’t perfect, but they were usable. The lidka, goblins, trolls and Mini would help the goblins build on top of skeleton frames.
The entire time, upgrading our force was a team effort. Slowly, but surely, we had obtained more platforms and were almost to the point where we could keep the caravan going except to let the rams and mares rest.
The lengthy reflection had me realizing Nick had faded back in the long trail. I rode on the driver’s bench of a wagon, returning to my book and finding the story enjoyable - an actual fable about a city in the sky with dragon riders who faced a pestilent god.
I heard Tarla inside our carriage. The woman hummed while she stitched emblems into my new winter coat. We had purchased the supplies before, but simply never had the time to start production.
