The house of the Moonbond family had seen so much violence, tragedy, and heartbreak already that day. But there was one more tragedy that needed to unfold in that house. And it began with Selena Moonbond throwing herself at a sentinel demon.
Selena clenched her fists and charged at the sentinel demon, an evil monstrosity from the Heart of Darkness, that had been moments from eating her mother. Her fury surged through her and amplified the effects of the first time she ever consciously used magic to speed her attack immensely. The little girl had always been courageous and righteous, but in the final moments of her life, she was about to learn how even righteous fury could result in someone's downfall.
The demon became aware of her after her magic roared to life and gave her a speed boost, but sadly for Selena and despite the proportions of the creature it was shockingly quick and swatted the child back with a cruelly forceful backhand, an instant before she would get between it and its meal.
The force of the gigantic creature's open palm caused Selena to sail back towards her former hiding place, and she collided hard against the bed frame she had hidden under just moments ago. The metal of the bed frame wracked her with great pain, and she felt blood well up in her lungs, threatening her ability to breathe.
The demon turned to look at her, curious as to the identity of its attacker.
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Selena was a pitiful sight as she struggled to not cough up blood. She was on the floor, still staggered by both the force of the demon's counterattack and the pains that came about as a result of slamming against a metal bed frame.
She had long blonde hair that now hung limply against her back. Her green eyes were unfocused and wandering as she tried to gather her wits before she was attacked again or before the demon began to snack on her parents.
She was tiny, even for a child, and wore what the demon supposed was a typical outfit for humans in this world. Her thin green coat clung to her arms due to the sweat she built up due to her wearing the warm outfit indoors mixed with charging at the demon and roaring in her righteous fury earlier.
Once the demon had finished examining her it moved closer to the child. Its movements were slow because it could sense the magic in her veins, but it wasn't a coward and it could tell the human wasn't strong yet. It contemplated how to handle the child for a second.
Another demon, one more interested in scheming and in consolidating power, might have kept the child. They might have decided to corrupt her soul and turn her into a servant of some sort in the future. But what sealed the fate of Selena Moonbond was the magic in her veins.
The demon didn't hesitate like a greater demon might have. It sauntered over to the child who hadn't fully recovered and reached out with one of its dreaded long limbs. It easily lifted the child off of her feet and pulled the still breathing child into its fang-filled maw even as she tried to throw tiny punches and tried to kick the creature in the face. She even succeeded in landing a few blows on its face, which did nothing to save her from her fate.
The last sensations Selena Moonbond would feel in her short life were the sensations of the demon beginning to chew on her flesh. Those sensations were mercifully quick, as the demon enjoyed chewing its food and bit several of critical organs of her in its first few bites. She perished shortly after the demon's teeth severed many of her arteries.
The demon enjoyed the taste of her immature spark of magical power and found that the fear the girl felt in the last few minutes of her life gave her flesh a certain spicy kick.
After a few moments of enjoying the taste of its snack, it smashed through the wall that had once housed the portal so that it could leave the house and freely roam the surrounding landscape. With Selena's death, the portal had also vanished, not that such a thing bothered the demon.
The demon had killed the closest thing it had to a summoner and was now free to rampage throughout the small town. But this town was also where the godling and his allies were located. And they wouldn't be as easy to kill as Selena had been.
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The part of the town wherein the tiniest houses were was now silent. Bazur had finished explaining why his siblings were still alive and were once again conscious. It was because the orc had made a deal, the sort of deal which was common among orcs throughout the world: in exchange for their lives, he had surrendered his freedom.
The godling waited to see if Bazur's siblings would join the orc in servitude. It suspected that they would, but a small part of it experienced doubt as even Ragnor, who it had overheard would most likely join Bazur, hadn't yet affirmed that he would.
The middle child of the orcs pondered its current situation for a few moments. It didn't seem to dislike it though, if anything it's body language while it listened to Bazur and even now while it contemplated what to do suggested that it was a fan of its new circumstances.
After a minute of silence, Ragnor the brawler opened his mouth to speak. Before he could do so, however, his orcish siblings noticed that the orc the godling had encountered and subsequently buried at the town's gate was approaching them.
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In the distance, Modred and his allies neared the town. The spell-singer was keenly aware of the mood amongst his allies and so he had used his first spell a bit before he anticipated he'd have to use it.
The spell-singer's hauntingly beautiful voice was rousing the soldiers and their horses as well. The song rejuvenated the squad and enabled the mounted soldiers to move closer and closer to the town.
In the distance, they could see the gates that promised them entry into the town. And then a magically amplified voice shouted over the song. The voice belonged to the imp who itself silently cast a shielding spell that would help it survive whatever attacks it knew were imminent.
"Men! Prepare yourselves. It's not likely that we'll enter the town unchallenged. I recommend raising your shields and bracing for impact. Better to be ready, than not in cases like this."
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Near the town's gate, the gate that left travelers closer to the rest of Baron Hightower's territory and not the one that led towards the forest from which Althos came, there were 4 orcish archers. Each of the bowmen was a talented archer who could snipe even moving enemies from across vast distances. And they had noticed that horse-mounted humans were moving towards the town, and moving fast.
Each of the archers prepared itself for a fight. They quietly and professionally grabbed their bows and began to inspect their arrows, selecting which would be the first ones they'd use in a fight. If not intercepted quickly the horse-riding humans would be upon them in less than 20 minutes but the orcs intended to prevent that from happening.
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The godling had long since noticed that the orcish archer it had defeated earlier was approaching the growing party. When the archer neared close enough that the other orcs noticed him, they immediately pieced together that he had had an encounter with Althos.
This was because some dirt and soil still covered his basic fur armor, he looked disheveled, and he was missing his bow. They doubted he'd go somewhere without his bow unless someone bested him in combat, or the bow had been destroyed. And to Ranthor those two things were synonymous.
"Ranthor... what happened to you?" Bazur, the oldest of the orcish siblings and oftentimes the face of the trio in social settings, asked softly. The dark-skinned orc had a wild, unhinged look in his crimson eyes.
The archer silently walked towards the godling. The only thing that stopped him from reaching Althos was the intervention of Bazur, who stepped between the two and tackled Ranthor when the orc continued in his bizarre mission to reach the orc's master.
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The orcish archer's mind was a strange battlefield as he neared Althos and the orcish brawlers. The source of this mental conflict was the fact that he still lived. That led him to believe that the godling let him live, for reasons that were unclear and demanded clarification, since the godling could have easily killed him while he was unconscious.
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It was this mental conflict that had prevented the orc from retrieving its bow. The weapon had been left behind when he lunged at the godling, almost an hour ago and then forgotten once the orc escaped its underground prison.
He was filled with rage towards the one he had identified as a hated foe. He wanted to attack the godling again, yet he knew both consciously and unconsciously that such an attack would be meaningless. This was reinforced when the orcish archer got close enough to realize that his foe was conversing with the brawlers who played a heavy role in the successful raid on the town.
He was also conflicted due to his past adherence to orcish cultural norms. He had spent his life respecting orcish culture, and a significant part of orcish culture was serving the strong. The magician who had defeated him was strong, both magically and physically. The orc knew that adherence to orcish cultural norms meant learning to live with his hatred for the godling.
If they weren't attacking it, that meant that their fight must already be over. And the orcs hadn't won. They wouldn't have spared their foes if they won a fight. If his foe could tackle three brawlers alone that meant the difference in power between the lone archer and his foe must have been incredibly vast.
The orc also noticed that the godling's staff was gone, but such a thing was fairly inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, and in the warring emotions battling for supremacy in the orc's mind and heart.
The mental conflict in the orc's mind was over by the time he had ignored the question asked by Bazur, and had to be forcibly restrained by the fierce brawler for daring to approach Althos too closely without saying a word.
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Ranthor only spoke after being restrained by Bazur. The orcish archer shouted at the top of his lungs what he had to say due to the nature of Bazur's hold over him. The orcish brawler had grappled the orcish archer and now both orcs were on the ground. Bazur held him there, preventing him from getting any closer.
"Human! My name is Ranthor and I detest you. But... you defeated me. And you defeated the brawlers of our raiding group. I have my pride but I also have my desire for self-preservation. Orcish culture places the highest value of all in strength and the second-highest value of all in familial bonds. It's also non-discriminatory.
"If you allow me to serve you, literally my only condition will be that you let me challenge you. Just once a month is fine, but I want a chance to restore my pride. I'll obey any other commands you have. Just... give me that one thing. I'm begging you."
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This condition intrigued two people in particular; Anthus and Althos. Althos had no problem with this condition and intended to accept it. It was a small price to pay for gaining an orc as a servant it had not known would serve it. The godling also liked the pride of the orcish archer, refusing to submit unconditionally even in that hopeless situation. There was something powerful about pride like that.
The youngest orcish brawler was curious as to how the creature who seemed to want servants would react to this. This was also a bit worrying to the orc as well because this meant that the creature had encountered and defeated at least one other member of their raiding party. That was demoralizing, even in a situation that seemed to lack any morale anyway.
Althos began to speak.
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"Ranthor, was it? I accept your condition. I am searching for servants, so swear your loyalty to me and in exchange, I'll grant you the opportunity to fight for your freedom once a month. If you fight me and defeat me, I'll free you. My name is Althos. Become mine."
Both Ranthor and Ragnor were shocked at how high the creature's voice was. But both orcs also felt the power emanating from that voice. All of the orcs, even together, knew that to resist this creature was hopeless. The severity of their defeats at its hands only reinforced that sentiment.
The three unsworn orcs looked at each other. They all made sure to double-check what the others intended to do before readying themselves to do it. Then Ragnor was the first to speak.
"Althos... my name is Ragnor. I have been defeated by you, alongside my brothers, yet you spared us. Your power is unquestionable, and I swear my loyalty to you. Unconditionally. Command me as you will, my life and my skills are yours to wield."
Ragnor's oath was sincere and unconditional. He seemed genuinely happy to have an opportunity to serve a more powerful master. He went down on one knee following his declaration.
The next orc to speak was Ranthor, the archer. His voice was mild not that it wasn't as overcome with emotion as it had been when he shouted at the godling.
"Althos, I am Ranthor, the archer. Your magic defeated me, and yet you let me live. I will serve you to the best of my abilities until the day I can earn my freedom in battle. Thank you for granting me even this one request. Though I may detest you, just know that I detest your enemies even more. I will defeat them, grow in power, and earn my freedom. I swear to serve you until that day comes."
His oath was longer but more thoughtful than that of Ragnor. He also went down on one knee following his declaration.
The last oath to be sworn was that of Anthus. The youngest and most hot-headed of the orcs.
"I am Anthus, the brawler. I might be the youngest of my siblings, but I will one day be the strongest. I recognize your power Althos, and I recognize the mercy you showed in sparing my siblings and Ranthor. I am intrigued by what you will show us, and I am swearing my loyalty to you here and now. I desire to keep my family together. Love of family is perhaps the one orcish value that deserves respect. Thank you for not killing mine."
The orcish brawler's words were surprisingly sincere. Althos suspected that its decision to accept Ranthor influenced Anthus's oath. As it contemplated the different oaths it had just heard and felt a great surge of energy flow into it from the new servants it gained, its newest servant Anthus the brawler also went down on one knee.
At that precise moment, Samyaza interrupted Althos's thoughts.
[Hey Althos... You just gained a new power. Let me explain it to you!]
And shortly after Samyaza's interruption, Ranthor realized he had forgotten his bow. Althos was tempted to chide the orc but decided instead that this presented a convenient opportunity.
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Minutes later Althos's had given its first order to its servants, aside from Bazur for whom this represented his second real order. They were to escort their brother-in-arms Ranthor back to where his bow was so he could arm himself. The godling didn't want the orcish archer to be unarmed, and it knew first hand that the orc's skills with a bow shouldn't be underestimated. Plus he was their only ranged fighter unless Althos felt like using magic.
The orcs quickly and quietly left to fulfill their order. Once the godling was alone it mentally spoke to Samyaza, curious about the angel's earlier declaration.
[Samyaza, what power did I gain?]
The godling was excited, and now that it was alone it could reveal its excitement. It wasn't even sure what powers it already possessed but having new powers and knowing them was a good thing.
[You gained access to your first subdomain! It's hand-to-hand fighting. Presumably, this is because you gained multiple servants who use their bodies as their weapons, now you can enhance a creature's ability to fight using themselves as their weapons. You'll be giving them a small boost to all of their capabilities related to fisticuffs; strength, speed, dexterity, and even their luck will benefit from your blessing. For now, your control over it is very weak, but your ability to enhance someone's hand to hand fighting will have a noticeable impact on their ability to survive, most notably for inexperienced fist-fighters and for master fist-fighters who need to train a lot to grow even a little bit. As you gain more servants who specialize in this form of fighting your power over this domain will increase.]
Samyaza's statement was exciting enough on its own, but it thought for a moment and then added a second part to it which carried exciting implications.
[Or if you turn servants into worshippers, that'll cause your influence over this to grow as well.]
Althos responded to this quickly, asking a question it was pretty sure about already.
[So the power I gain from servants increases if they go from minions to worshippers?]
Inside of Althos's mind and body, Samyaza nodded and responded energetically.
[Yep! Worship produces infinitely more power for you than servitude does. But it'll most likely be easier for you to gain servants than worshippers. When possible go for worshippers but servants increase your power as well, so consider gaining either a victory, just a victory to a different extent.]
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The horse-mounted soldiers had listened to the imp and rose their shields shortly after the devil gave them free advice. And that decision most likely saved their lives. Thick arrows were raining down on them, and without their shields raised in advance of the first volley, it was likely that even if they had survived their horses might not have.
The arrows cut through the air and the loud whistling sounds they produced due to their design mitigated the impact of the spell-singers musical magic but didn't undo the spell's impressive effects on the morale of the remaining members of Modred's squad.
Even though they had to endure a barrage of arrows Modred, and his allies had pushed closer and closer to the town and were now less than 5 minutes away.
The loud sounds of the horses stampeding towards the town mixed with orcish commands filling the air in the southernmost part of the town alerted both the sentinel demon and Althos's expanded party.
Once Althos's servants completed their mission the group began to march towards the other archers. The demon heard the noise and decided to march towards it. This meant that every powerful individual or group was marching towards the same destination; towards the gate where the archers were attempting to weaken any enemies who may reach the town.
While they were attacking the horse-mounted squad the orcish archers received backup in the form of the six orcish rogues and the last archer who had gone with them. The 7 of them had been lazily day-drinking in the ruins of a tavern not far from the gate. They heard the archers start to fire on the soldiers and came out to support their allies against the mysterious intruders.
All three groups and the demon were marching towards an explosive meeting.