Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 69 - Affinity for Violence - Part Two
With the External portal secured and a garrison stationed to make sure it remained that way, I led the remaining forces into the Hurst Labyrinth.
The Confederate defenders stationed within the first Footholds knew we were coming for them. However, it didn’t make a difference.
One by one, the Confederate garrisons fell.
Seven Invasions had thoroughly routed the Confederate forces within the Hurst Labyrinth, awarding seven territories over nine days.
I had integrated all but the first floor, leaving it to serve as a secondary garrison to intercept and imprison anyone who attempted to enter the Labyrinth through subterfuge or teleportation. Of course, there was still a persisting risk that infiltrators could teleport into the Labyrinth by targeting other floors. However, that risk would continue to shrink as floors were converted to territories and integrated into my realm.
To maintain a fast pace and keep the subjugation force concentrated while on the move, I left the search for Variants to Gric and Sebet.
The newly acquired territories wouldn’t be fully integrated and would otherwise be kept separate as emergency collateral. However, if Variants were found, Gric and Sebet were under orders to secure oaths of fealty. Assuming the Variants complied, they would be provided with new lands to call their own.
Entering the tenth floor, I felt a small degree of excitement. By all accounts, this was where I would begin to encounter those who shared my Species.
Wielding staves packed full of mana stones and bearing the Shape Stone Spell, the Dwergi wasted no time in levelling the Foothold and erecting a fortress in its place. The design had changed slightly with each floor, but the foundations remained the same.
Occupying twice as much space below ground as above, the fortress would be all but impregnable. However, the primary entrance to the outermost walls remained open.
It was a deliberate flaw in the otherwise perfect defences of the fortress.
The open gateway provided unimpeded but somewhat directed entry to what the soldiers referred to as a kill zone. In reality, the gateway was connected to a large open field that was flanked by thick high walls on all sides. The battlements and arrow slits set into the walls gave hundreds of firing positions for anyone capable of holding a bow or spear. However, it was an adaptation made to accommodate and make the best of my request and not an intended feature.
Once the Invasion was initiated, I would descend the wall and fight the wild monsters within the kill zone. Fighting on the front lines was an important component of my mental conditioning and training.
Duels and sparring were useful, but at a certain point, they became counterproductive.
While my magically reinforced and hardened stone armour made me practically invulnerable to harm, the desperation and savagery of the wild monsters provided an energy and atmosphere that couldn’t be replicated in more ‘controlled’ conditions.
Standing in the centre of the kill zone I initiated the Invasion.
Several warhorns blared in response, serving as a warning to those not present to witness the act itself.
Within less than a minute, the soldiers stationed atop the outermost walls began firing at the approaching enemies. After another minute, the first wave of Beasts began spilling through the front gate.
Large wolf-like canines covered in bony spikes led the charge, their mouths foaming with rage as they advanced under a withering hail of arrows. Thick layers of exposed bone covering their heads served as natural armour, shielding their eyes and denying my soldiers easy kills from atop the walls. However, several of the canines fell from shear trauma alone, their hides bristling with arrows, javelins and bolts.
Already driven past the point of sanity by the Invasion, the Spineback Howlers’ simply trampled over their fallen and continued forward.
One of the thunder warriors stationed on my flanks roared, raising his large stone axe high into the air. His wordless cry was echoed by the others, each brandishing their gifted weapons with pride and savage conviction.
Like me, they would be near impossible to injure directly. Similarly, the mana stones embedded within their weapons powering the Thundering Strike Spell made every one of them an avatar of raw destructive power.
As my appointed honour guard, they were committed to remaining at my side. However, out of necessity, that commitment left the closest of them just over a dozen feet away. Standing too close would only get in the way, and as zealous as my Bodyguards were, they knew they had to afford me enough room to actively defend myself.
Just like Lash, the thunder warriors were all at the physical peak of their Species' potential, and each member stood roughly as tall as my chest. Although capable of fighting shoulder to shoulder when necessary, the thunder warriors needed nearly as much space as myself to reach their full martial potential.
The first Howler to come within six feet of a thunder warrior was decapitated by a brutal backhanded swing of his flanged mace. The second was impaled on a broad-headed spear and exploded as the owner activated Thundering Strikes and tore the Howler's body apart from the inside out. The third was brought to an abrupt halt and very nearly backflipped as yet another thunder warrior clove the blade of his axe into the Beast’s head and into the ground.
The weapons carried by the thunder warriors changed with each battle and sometimes during. It was all part of their collective goal of unlocking the Knight Class. The primary requirement of which was gaining substantial experience, and a certain degree of mastery, in a wide range of weaponry. The most senior warriors were closer than their juniors, but not by much.
Their clan has specialised in using wedge-headed axes with spiked counterweights that resembled the axes used by firefighters on Earth. It was only after accepting my protection and living above ground that they had begun slowly experimenting with other weapons. However, they still struggled with the concept of engaging with ranged weaponry.
The scarcity of materials below ground, and the blood that was shed to acquire them, made most of the former Deep Orcs pathologically incapable of discarding a weapon so casually. Even when provided with a dozen throwing axes or javelins, they would distribute the majority to their fellows and keep one or two as a backup to their primary weapon.
Putting such thoughts aside, I committed myself to the battle ahead.
Using my Chi, I impaled several Howlers with spikes formed from the stone floor. Waiting a few moments for the next Howlers to overtake them, I cast the Thundering Strikes Spell.
Bloody shards of bone and stone raked through the tide of fur and teeth, felling only the closest but wounding countless others.
With a practised breath, I drew my Chi back into my body, and a small portion of my expended MP alongside it.
I had discovered, through limited experience, that combining attacks from both systems was considerably more efficient than using only one at a time.
I imbued my Chi into a javelin and threw it into a distant Howler. Upon impact, I used the Chi to imbue the wooden shaft of the javelin with something approximating life and then cast the Plant Growth Spell. Within moments, the Howler was torn apart from the inside, branches and roots erupting from every orifice and creating innumerable more as I directed the magically animated flora into other nearby Howlers.
Using the bodies of the Howlers as fertiliser, I continued the assault.
As the ranks of the Howlers began to thin, new Beasts took their place.
Raptor-like Beasts leapt freely over the fallen Howlers, their toxic green plumage shimmering in dizzying patterns as they caught the light of the midday sun. Unfortunately, their exotic plumage did not protect them from the archers’ arrows and they began to fall in droves.
Wingless slate-grey-shelled beetles the size of human children charged alongside them and fared somewhat better. However, their comparative survivability was better attributed to the Dazzling Shriekers’ drawing focus rather than possessing a powerful defensive Racial Ability of their own.
The beetles that entered the reach of the thunder warriors were quickly smashed apart and released a foul-smelling ichor.
The remains of the Howlers and Shriekers smoked and smouldered as they were exposed to the ichor, dissolving and burning in equal measure.
Despite their primitive origins, the thunder warriors were not stupid. Upon recognising the threat, they made sure to prioritise engaging the grey beetles above the other Beasts.
The caustic ichor of the beetles quickly proved to be a greater danger to the oncoming Beasts than ourselves. Burning and disorienting the approaching Beasts before they entered into melee range, making them easy targets.
Time passed in a blur, my mind acclimating to the violence and going through the necessary motions as Beasts threw themselves to their deaths.
Then, I felt it.
Someone had attempted, and immediately failed, to challenge my control.
I had no Slaves and there were no Slaves within my army.
Absently crushing a Vileblood Beetle with my mace, I turned my focus toward the individual who had issued the challenge. Too used to receiving information on command, I felt a momentary surge of frustration as my mental inquiry failed to provide the target’s Status information.
Suppressing my irritation, I realised that there was a simple explanation.
The failed challenger was an Ogre.
Ploughing through the mountains of corpses, I made my way toward the gateway.
As one, the thunder warriors began pushing forwards, anticipating my intentions to a certain degree.
Viciously dashing apart the Beasts that stood in my path, I passed through the gateway and searched the surrounding forest for the Ogre.
Almost immediately, my eyes were drawn toward a surprisingly small figure cowering in the hollowed trunk of a tree. Despite their size, my Racial Ability filled me with absolute certainty of their Species.
Reminded of Pete and Suzy, I felt a surge of rage.
“Forward!” I snarled, pointing to the Ogre’s hiding place and breaking into a lumbering jog.
Ignoring the Beasts, I trampled the smaller individuals underfoot and swatted anything larger aside with my mace.
Crackling roars of thunder erupted in my wake as my Bodyguards struggled to keep pace.
My eyes remained locked on the small Ogre, the sight of its obvious fear filling me with irrepressible rage.
Flooding the Plant Growth Spell with MP, I sealed the hollow tree and compelled it to move toward me.
Roots tore free of the dirt and began hastily dragging the tree across the ground like a bizarre land squid. All the while, impaling and ripping apart any Beast that got in its way.
Concentrating intensely, my pace slowed. However, the independent movement of the animated tree more than made up for the difference.
Infusing my Chi into the tree, I warped its form and moulded it into a form that roughly resembled a large dog crate. Seizing the handle I warped the wood to bind itself to my arm.
With the small Ogre secured, I turned my back on the Beasts and began my return to the fortress.
As one, the thunder warriors fell into step behind me, hewing down the approaching Beasts with single-minded ferocity and determination.
Returning to the kill zone, I found the ground bloody but otherwise stripped clean of corpses.
Knowing it was the work of the Dwergi, I paid it no mind.
Expending a surge of MP, I parted the wall opposite to the kill zone and strode through the gap, taking only enough time to allow my Bodyguards through before sealing it shut again.
Depositing the wooden carrier case on the ground, I used my Chi to part its sides like the petals of a flower and reveal the Ogre within.
Barely four feet tall, at most, the small figure had tucked itself tightly into a corner. Knees pulled tightly against their chest and arms crossed protectively over their head, the small Ogre released a terrified squeak and vainly attempted to press themselves deeper into the corner.
Retracting my hand, I fought down the rage within and forced a state of calm into my mind.
“Food and water,” I demanded, motioning toward the opened case.
A thunder warrior dutifully stepped forward, redeeming quest rewards from thin air and silently depositing them in the case before retreating.
Squatting beside the case, I nudged the waterskin and package of jerky toward the small Ogre. “Eat,” I insisted softly, “Drink.”
Just the same as before, a fleeting flicker of resistance registered in my mind before failing utterly.
The small Ogre shivered. Sniffling and snivelling, they snatched at the waterskin and jerky, dutifully obeying the command.
Watching the child eat, I couldn’t help but notice something strange. Although they were irredeemably filthy, caked with mud and tattered so badly they were barely a step above being rags, the style and quality of the small Ogre’s clothing were almost certainly human.
With deliberate care to appear as non-threatening as possible, I removed my blood-spattered helmet and set it aside. “You don’t need to be afraid of me,” I explained quietly, trying to sound as reassuring as I could manage. “You are safe here.”
The small Ogre stopped eating and looked up at me with dark watery eyes. “E-Eg, s-safe?” The small Ogre squeaked, dirty streaks running down their cheeks as tears fell from their eyes.
“You are safe,” I repeated, injecting my words with as much confidence and reassurance as I could muster.
Without saying another word, the small Ogre, Eg, lowered their head and continued to eat in near silence. Despite their initial hesitation, it quickly became obvious that Eg was ravenously hungry.
Only too familiar with the sensation, I ordered more food to be deposited in the case.
A half an hour passed before Eg’s appetite was sated and I still had not sensed another Ogre.
Having watched the small Ogre for quite some time, I had decided that Eg more strongly resembled Suzy than Pete. Leading me to believe she was a girl, and likely only a couple of months old.
By human standards, that would have made Eg a toddler, but a Variant’s development was difficult to pin down under human standards and expectations. There was a real possibility that she was as young as a month old, although the state of her clothing made me think otherwise.
It was not unheard of for Variants to make use of human clothing, weapons and tools they scavenged or traded from human merchants. However, I had been told that Ogre Variants were captured on sight. Making trade an incredibly unlikely means of acquiring her clothing.
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The stains were old, but the majority of the damage to Eg’s clothing looked recent. Suggesting that she had found or otherwise acquired the clothing some time ago. However, when also considering her half-starved state, I became certain that someone, almost certainly a human, had been caring for her.
I also became increasingly certain that whoever that person was, they were mostly likely dead.
Most Variants had a wildness to them. It was part of what allowed them to survive in the brutal conditions of the Labyrinths. But when I looked at Eg, it felt like I was looking at an abandoned human child left to go fend for themselves.
She looked all but helpless.
Scanning Eg’s features, I realised that I lacked a proper frame of reference for what an Ogre was supposed to look like.
As best I could tell, Pete and Suzy had taken after Lash to a far greater degree than myself. Inheriting my height and general build but little else. However, looking at Eg, I recognised a thickness in her features that reminded me of the face I used to see each morning when I looked in the mirror.
But as much as Eg reminded me of my old self, she looked far too...normal.
Too...human...
In retrospect, the hair was something of a giveaway. Just like Pete and Suzy, Eg was mostly bald, the tangled mess of her dark red hair sprouting from the crown of her head but nowhere else.
Gathering my MP, I Summoned Lash.
Already generally aware of the situation through the impressions provided through the Summoning, Lash wasted no time in kneeling beside the crate and inspecting Eg for herself. “So brave,” she cooed soothingly, gently thumbing a tear from Eg’s cheek. “It is alright, you are safe now.”
Lips trembling, Eg had initially recoiled from Lash’s touch. However, after determining Lash intended her no harm, Eg stopped resisting and allowed herself to be drawn from the crate and into a warm comforting embrace.
I leaned in and kissed the top of Lash’s head. “I need you to take care of her...I...” I felt a fresh wave of hesitation building in my chest, the temptation to leave the battlefield to others. With a force of will, I renewed my resolve. “I will return later...” I promised, already counting down the hours until I would Summon her projection again during my recuperation period.
It was the single indulgence I had allowed myself as a source of motivation to continue the Invasions.
Strapping on my helmet, I looked at Lash one final time before parting the wall and returning to the battlefield.
Three hours passed, and still, the Beasts continued flooding into the fortress.
The Dwergi emptied the kill zone at the end of each hour. All the while, a work detail of soldiers ferried corpses into a central processing station where any useful materials would be harvested before the remains would be dumped into one of the storage pits.
The Ogres arrived in force just as the floor of the kill zone was restored.
Unlike the Beasts, wild humanoids were heavily influenced to seek out the source of the Conquest or Invasion but were not compelled to do so. Which was why the Ogres had arrived as a relatively organised and somewhat unified force. However, the moment they stepped across the threshold of my supremacy aura, they became incapable of defying my will.
I was the apex of our Species, literally a born leader and Born to Rule enforced it.
On the other floors, any wild monster that attacked the fortress was killed as a matter of course. Those who did not would later be extended the opportunity to swear oaths of fealty alongside the Variants. However, until this moment, there had likely been less than a dozen or so individuals who had met those conditions.
The Ogres were different. They had been denied the opportunity to attack in the first place, regardless of their original intentions.
And now I had a choice to make.
Just shy of being Enslaved outright, the Ogres were bound to my will.
Which made them my responsibility...
Regardless of their original intentions, the thought of having them killed filled me with an intense feeling of revulsion.
“Hold the grounds before the entrance,” I ordered, waving the thunder warriors forward while slowly advancing toward the gateway myself. I looked toward one of the Human officers on the wall, “The Ogres are not to be harmed!’ I commanded loudly, the tone of my voice making it clear that I would accept no excuses for failing to abide by it.
The command was quickly echoed up and down the walls and into the fortress proper.
Unlike Eg, the assembled Ogres continued their approach toward the fortress. Only now, they were fighting against the Beasts instead of alongside them.
Larger than a Human, the tallest of the approaching Ogres were only eight feet tall at the most. Many were a full head shorter.
Clothed in simple hides and armed with clubs and crude wooden spears, the Ogres' Racial Abilities and numbers carried them through the carnage. Shrugging off vicious wounds and retaliating with single-minded ferocity, the Ogres steadily moved out of the forest and began the final approach toward the fortress.
“Let them through,” I ordered, waving my Bodyguards aside and motioning for them to establish a larger perimeter.
One by one, the hundred or so Ogres warily passed the thunder warriors, and to a man, proceeded to bow their heads and lift their hands, offering up whatever they happened to be holding.
It was a gesture I recognised as a demonstration of supplication and deference amongst primates. Which, while initially surprising, also seemed somewhat appropriate considering what I knew of Ogres thus far.
My eyes were drawn to the largest of the Ogres, a heavily scarred brute with thick bone piercings embedded in his forearms.
Sensing my gaze, the Ogre gulped loudly and began to nervously shift his immense weight from one foot to the other. “Ugg obey! Ugg boys obey!” The Ogre declared, his deep voice thick with fear. “Obey biggest! Ugg not lie! Uh, uh...Ugg promise!” Ugg insisted with earnest desperation, greasy bloody sweat dripping down his scalp.
Timorous murmurs of assent rose from the other Ogres and they lifted their offerings higher while pressing their chins hard into their chests and comically displacing the fat of their second and third chins.
Despite being spattered with gore, the assembled Ogres looked more like frightened children than monsters. It would have been quite amusing if it wasn’t for the pitched battle taking place behind them.
I pointed back toward the fortress. “Go, sit by the back wall while I decide what to do with you all,” I commanded.
To my immense surprise, the Ogres hurriedly moved to obey without a single individual attempting a challenge. Eyes still firmly fixed on the ground, causing them to stumble and bump into one another.
“Withdraw,” I commanded, waving the thunder warriors back into the kill zone.
I re-entered the fortress proper and waved over one of the supply officers. “I want the Ogres armed and fed,” I ordered bluntly. “Spears, halberds, great axes, war hammers, anything that will suit their size but won’t require a great deal of skill to use without posing a significant risk of generating collateral damage.”
I would have ordered armour for the Ogres as well, but I doubted they would be able to equip anything meaningful without direct supervision and instruction.
“As you command, Majesty!” The supply officer snapped a quick salute before gathering his subordinates and marching into the kill zone.
Returning to the kill zone myself, I allowed the Ogres a few minutes to gorge themselves on supply rations and then formed them into a rough semblance of a formation.
Despite being rather simple-minded, the Ogres understood that they were being tested. Ugg in particular made a point of grunting and growling at any of his smaller kin that strayed from the places I had assigned them.
After watching the Ogres fight for half an hour, and witnessing their formation devolve into a chaotic sprawling melee several times in rapid succession, I decided to try a different approach.
Withdrawing the Ogres from the battlefield, I had them enrolled in basic training.
I had low expectations overall but was reasonably confident that with enough repetition and training, the Ogres would be able to hold a basic formation without breaking ranks every few minutes.
A series of horn calls announced the sixth hour of the Invasion and the rotation of forces stationed on active duty.
Withdrawing into the subterranean levels of the fortress alongside my Bodyguards, I stripped my armour and began cycling through the list of approved visitation Summons. Each Projection would have enough MP to last up to two or three hours, depending on the degree of activity. In some instances, the MP was divided among several projections. Although that situation was rare and required special consideration for approval.
For most, it was an opportunity to catch up with family members and spouses. For a few, it was the opportunity to engage in more intimate activities. In either case, it was a guaranteed perk of serving in the subjugation force. Provided they possessed no demerits, each soldier was entitled to a visitation request once per twenty-four-hour period of active service.
The precise workings of the overall schedule were managed by a team of support officers and clerks. All I had to do was use the provided reference information to Summon the requested projections.
The entire process took between half an hour to an hour, depending upon how many requests were approved.
During my active periods, it served as a short break from the violence of the Invasions. However, in my self-imposed rest periods, I found it tested my patience more often than not. Delaying the time I could spend alone with Lash.
It didn’t stop me from Summoning her early, but I still found it difficult to truly relax until we were alone.
The projection of Lash I had Summoned earlier was still active, so I resisted Summoning a second. The overlapping memories created by multiple active projections could disorient the original unless carefully managed. So it was simpler and more considerate just not to do it.
Entering my chambers, I found Lash sitting on a second smaller bed, quietly humming and gently stroking Eg’s back while she slept with her head resting on Lash’s lap.
At a glance, I could see that Eg had been thoroughly washed and given new clothes.
Changing into a fresh set of clothes, I entered the recessed pool containing my bed and released a sigh as my dry skin was rejuvenated by the water.
Reluctant to risk awakening the child, I left Lash with Eg and resigned myself to sleeping alone.
Returning to the battle, it didn’t take long for me to fall back into the brutal rhythm of violence.
Hours passed in a bloody haze and the signal came for the second shift change.
Withdrawing from the battle, I remained just behind the wall to the kill zone. There were only a couple more hours until midnight and I needed to be awake to concentrate on the Born to Rule Ability and reduce its range of influence. When the new wave of wild Ogres arrived, I didn’t want them butchered by the Beasts.
Sitting on a block of shaped stone, I passed the time by practising my Chi control. Spinning a stone blade end over end and trying to increase its speed without losing control. I found that picturing images of propellers helped both with concentration and increasing the speed of rotation. Which matched my experiences with controlling Spells as well.
My control was still insufficient to maintain the effect during combat conditions, but I believed that it was only a matter of time before I had enough practice to do so.
Shortly before the next shift change, a runner from the wall delivered a report to the on-duty officer, prompting her to seek me out in turn.
“Majesty, please excuse my interruption,” the officer apologised.
I stopped my Chi control practice and motioned for her to continue.
“More Ogres have been spotted approaching our position,” the officer reported.
“The wild respawn?” I asked. Less of a question and more of a base assumption.
The officer hesitated, immediately drawing my full focus. “It is unclear...Those with superior senses have only just confirmed their presence. It will take some time for further details to become available...”
“Bring me the best scout,” I ordered, gathering my MP and preparing to cast the Keen Senses Spell.
If there were more Variants, and they were out in the open, I had a responsibility to shelter them from the warzone I had created.
The runner was sent back to the wall and returned shortly afterwards with a mottled grey-furred Gnoll in tow.
“Hehe, Ruk-Ruk obeys the Tyrant! Hehehe,” the Gnoll cackled nervously, tail tucked between his legs.
I motioned for Ruk-Ruk to come closer and bit the inside of my cheek.
Whining anxiously, Ruk-Ruk obeyed. Despite towering over the nearby Humans, he was still head and shoulders shorter than I was while sitting down.
Resting my hand on his head, I combined the MP with my blood and cast the Spell.
Thin tendrils of blood streamed from my mouth and toward Ruk-Ruk’s head, covering his eyes and entering his ears and nostrils.
Ruk-Ruk continued to whine but made no attempts to pull away. The sclera of his eyes took on a deep bloody hue and crimson tears replaced the black markings on his face.
With the enhanced Spell complete, I withdrew my hand and allowed Ruk-Ruk a few moments to acclimate himself. I was uncertain how the enhanced version of Keen Senses would differ from the original, but I strongly suspected it would be in some way permanent.
Bloody drool dribbling from his mouth, Ruk-Ruk licked at his muzzle with a flat wide tongue that looked painfully raw. Ears twitching, he sniffed at the air and opened his eyes wide with wonder. Tail wagging excitedly, Ruk-Ruk cackled and looked up at me earnestly. “Gift is great, hehe! Tyrant, generous! Hehehe.”
I acknowledged his thanks with a nod and then pointed back toward the wall. “You can repay me by investigating the approaching Ogres further. I want to know if there are Variants amongst them.”
Ruk-Ruk nodded eagerly, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth as he turned and ran back toward the wall on all fours in a loping sprint.
He returned less than a minute later. “Females! Hehe! Cubs!” Ruk-Ruk announced excitedly. “Shaman guides! Spirit protects! Hehehe!”
“Variants...” I nodded to show I understood. I turned to my Bodyguards. “We are leaving,” I growled, rising to my feet and looking down at Ruk-Ruk again. “And you will guide us.”
Ruk-Ruk’s tail wagged so fiercely it was a wonder it didn’t snap off entirely.
Chasing Ruk-Ruk out of the fortress and through the forest, I was impressed by his ability to navigate through the scattered tide of Beasts and maintain his intended heading. All the while, stabbing, slashing, biting and clawing at any Beast that presented an opportunity.
I was keenly aware that a male's standing and marital prospects in Gnoll society were based heavily on reputable observations of their prowess in hunting and battle. So it didn’t surprise me that Ruk-Ruk was taking this opportunity to show off.
Assuming the enhanced Keen Senses Spell had some form of permanent effects, I doubted Ruk-Ruk would have trouble finding a Mate.
All the same, I made a mental note to mention his usefulness to Rikit when Summoning the next wave of companionship projections.
After running for several minutes in the dark, I was becoming worried. However, the sounds of distant combat began filtering through trees ahead.
The shrill cries of the beasts were broken by defiant roars and the crash of heavy weapons striking bone and timber.
Crashing through the trees with renewed vigour, I came face to face with a small band of pale grey-skinned Ogres with glowing acid-green eyes. At their head was a spectral bear.
Contrary to my expectations, the Ogres carried no weapons. Those on the edge of the group fought the Beasts with their bare hands. Ripping, tearing and bludgeoning them with hooked claws and sharp calcified growths that protruded from the back of their knuckles.
The bear Spirit turned in my direction and roared, drawing the immediate and undivided attention of the Ogres behind it. “The Living Mountain has come!” Its growling voice rumbled like a landslide, echoing through the forest.
Overcoming their surprise, the grey-skinned Ogres whooped in celebration, redoubling their initial momentum. And now headed in my direction.
“Allow them to approach,” I commanded. “And cover their flanks so we may speak freely and without interruption.”
The thunder warriors grunted obediently and began fanning out into the nearby trees. Hewing down Beasts as they moved through the shadows.
Sparks flew as razor-sharp claws scraped across stone armour, and Beasts cried out in hollow fury as they were hewn down with ruthless efficiency.
The increased haste of the Ogre troupe revealed women, children and even a handful of elders at the core of their loosening formation.
Free to ignore the Beasts outright and pass through the obstacles in its way, the bear Spirit closed the distance between us in a matter of seconds. “Living Mountain!” Similarly sized to a north american grizzly, the spirit pressed its snout hard into the earth at my feet, splaying out its forelimbs in an awkward approximation of a kowtow. “Living Mountain! This one humbly begs a boon!” The humility in the strained snarling speech of the spirit was at direct odds with my expectations.
After experiencing the haughty indifference and selfishness of the Pale-Fang’s guardian Spirit, I had expected that other Beast Spirits would be the same.
It was nice to be proven wrong.
“This one has little to offer, but this one can guarantee that the charges under this one’s care will serve the Living Mountain with the utmost loyalty!” The Spirit’s claws curled like fingers and it pressed its snout deeper into the ground. “So, please! I beg! Extend to them your protection!”
“You knew I would be here,” I commented, probing the Spirit for information without admitting to any ignorance on my part.
The Spirit nodded. “This one may be weak, but this one has felt the approach of the Living Mountain for several cycles...”
If the Spirit was telling the truth, it meant the Spirit had somehow sensed me across multiple floors of the Hurst Labyrinth. Even if I hadn’t originally intended to take in the Ogres, I would have done so just to learn what the Spirit knew.
“I will offer them my protection,” I readily agreed. “However, they will be expected to follow my laws and provide for themselves through honest labour.”
“Of course!” The Spirit agreed hastily, “This one’s charges will obey the Living Mountain’s every command!” Shimmering spectral tears ran freely down the Spirit’s snout. “The Living Mountain is most just and benevolent!”
The Ogres had caught up and staggered briefly as they entered Born to Rule’s range of influence. The effect was so concentrated that I doubted resisting would have delayed the Lesser Domination any longer than conceding at the first opportunity.
One of the elders pushed through to the front of the group and shambled forward on unsteady legs. “Living Mountain-” The elder pointed to me with a gnarled clawed finger and then back toward the other Ogres. “-tribe obey. Tribe follow Living Mountain?” He squinted up at me from behind the thick wrinkles ringing his comparatively dull green eyes.
“Your tribe is under my protection and you are now my people,” I replied. “Obey my laws, and your tribe will prosper. That is my promise to you and your people.”
The elder bowed his head and raised his trembling hands in supplication. Despite his advanced age, the elder’s claws were thick and sharp, and his body was packed with thick muscles beneath his wrinkled skin. As frail as he appeared to be, it was only by Ogre standards. If he had a mind to, the elder could probably tear a grown man in half without breaking a sweat. “Living Mountain commands. Tribe obeys.”
At the elder’s words, the other members of the tribe emulated the gesture in cowed silence that bordered on reverence.
With my Bodyguards intercepting and dispatching the approaching Beasts, I was able to lead the tribe of Ogres back to the fortress without incident. However, the brutal efficiency of the thunder warriors had made quite an impression in doing so.
The Ogres stared at them in open-mouthed awe, flinching, baring their teeth and whooping in fright with every Thundering Strike.
“Such power...” The Spirit commented quietly. Its words were nearly lost to the riotous thunderclaps echoing through the forest.
Making the final approach toward the kill zone, I noticed something I hadn’t expected.
A dozen or so Ogres were gathered against the far wall and were attacking it with savage abandon.
One of the Ogre’s had lost hold of its weapon and by chance noticed me while moving to retrieve it.
For a moment, it was unclear what the Ogre would do. Then, without any attempts at alerting his fellows, the ogre screamed a warcry and charged.
Hundreds of Beast bodies littered the ground and caused the Ogre to trip several times.
With all of my bodyguards positioned outside, there was no one else between myself and the Ogre. Even so, I stared down at the Ogre with complete confidence.
The moment the Ogre came within twenty feet of me, he tripped over his feet and collapsed. Only this time, he didn’t get back up.
I looked over at the remaining Ogres and expanded my aura.
One by one, they dropped their weapons and fell to their knees, expressions of absolute terror plastered on their faces.
Gathering my MP, I opened the wall and led the tribe of green-eyed Ogres into the fortress.
“Snatcher! Snatcher!!” Cried one of the Ogres, pointing angrily at one of the nearby officers.
The officer stared back at the Ogre with surprise. “I...Uh, that is...Majesty-”
I raised my hand and motioned for silence. “Do not worry, I understand what is happening and know that you are innocent.” Gric had been incredibly thorough in vetting candidates, and I trusted his judgement implicitly.
The officer relaxed and nodded silently in appreciation.
I turned to the officer’s accuser. “These Humans-” I waved toward the fortress at large, “-are not snatchers. Anyone who attempted such a crime would be severely punished...”
It was technically a white lie, given the teams I had loaned to the Midnight Caravan specialised in seizing control over Slaves.
“Gronk wrong,” the elder agreed, “No snatchers,” he shook his head emphatically at the Ogre who had made the accusation and gave him a bonk on the head.
The Ogre looked confused, seeming to doubt himself as he looked between the officer he had accused and the elder.
The elder narrowed his eyes and began raising his fist for another strike.
“Gronk wrong!” The Ogre yelped in a panic, backing away and shielding his head with both hands.
The elder huffed and nodded to himself in satisfaction before cautiously glancing in my direction. No doubt afraid that Gronk had damaged their reputation or put their asylum application at risk.
Trying not to laugh, I ordered food, water and blankets to be provided for the tribe.
After sending someone to fetch Ugg, I set him to work recruiting the wild Ogres that were beginning to arrive with increasing frequency. Although it was confusing for the new arrivals, Ugg proved surprisingly competent at the role.
Making no attempts at arguing or bargaining, Ugg simply throttled anyone who didn’t immediately accept his position of dominance. These beatings became less frequent as those already beaten stood in solidarity with Ugg, joining in on said beatings and intimidating those who arrived after them. As if they had not just received such a beating themselves for not recognising his authority.
Watching the process from the outside, I could tell that Ugg was holding back while delivering the beatings and making sure the others didn’t take things too far. It was obvious that he had a significant amount of experience in recruiting through such measures. Taking into consideration the force Ugg had commanded in the first place, it made sense that he would have experience in recruiting weaker subordinates.
If there wasn’t such an immense difference in power between us, I might have been worried.
***** Mugu - Hurst Labyrinth ~ Tenth floor Subjugation Force fortress *****
Huddled alongside the other members of his tribe, Mugu ran his clawed hand over the smooth stone wall of their new home. His senses were fading and his memories did not answer his call as readily as they once did, but Mugu was certain he had never experienced such smoothness in all of his life.
Hands trembling, Mugu was reminded of the strange dried meat he was still holding in his other hand.
The younger members of the tribe were still watching him, waiting on Mugu to make his decision,
Mugu felt a flush of embarrassment for losing focus. “Meat good, eat,” he pronounced and then stuffed the dried meat into his mouth.
Agra, Gron and Nug experimentally nibbled at their own dried meat strips. One by one they nodded in approval. “Meat good,” they agreed before helping themselves to more.
Releasing a collective sigh of relief, the younger tribe members began helping themselves to the meat and feeding the children.
There was a strange taste to the meat, but Mugu found it tasted far better than cave crawlers, and it didn’t make his insides burn either.
“Mugu, it is time we showed our respects to the Living Mountain!” Bee-Yawn, the tribe’s guardian Spirit, insisted impatiently.
After struggling with the large words for a moment, Mugu slowly nodded in agreement.
They had already been given so much. It was time to ask what they could do in return.
Drawing the furless hide tighter about his shoulders, Mugu hissed as an uncountable host of minor pains flared across his body. After the pain passed, Mugu removed the bone necklace from around his neck and passed it along to Agra, signalling his intention that she would be the new leader if he did not return.
Agra had pushed and demanded Mugu to pass on the necklace for a long time. But now that she was holding it, Mugu could tell that she was having intense doubts.
It had been the same for Mugu when he had been given the necklace by...
Mugu tried to remember the name of his father but was unable to do so. Worse still, he couldn’t remember what his father’s face looked like either.
Mugu looked down at his wrinkled and withered hands. They began to tremble and his knees suddenly felt weak. He could still remember a time when his hands had been different. Remembered the day the village burned. He could still smell the smoke and hear the screams of his people...
“Mugu...” The tribe’s guardian Spirit reached out a paw and pressed it against Mugu’s chest. “The village is gone...But your people endure! Do not dwell on such dark chapters of your past. Instead, look to the bright future and the opportunities you have given to your people!”
The Guardian Spirit had been the one who had shown Mugu the caves. Allowing him to lead a small number of his fellow tribesmen to safety. However, the caves held dangers of their own. Despite enduring as best as they were able, Mugu was the last of the tribe who had seen the village with his own eyes.
He was the last one left...
“Mugu!” The Spirit’s essence flared and pressed into Mugu’s soul, driving back the despair and lifting the fog that had crept into his mind. “It’s not your time Mugu. The tribe endures, but it still needs your guidance! No one else can see me! And even if Agra could, I sincerely doubt she would listen!”
Mugu chuckled softly. The Spirit was right, and until Mugu knew for certain that they would be able to endure without him, he would endure as well.