I’m still not dead yet. That’s odd.
Actually, it felt like my Magic Power had been replenishing for a while now, which afforded
Some time (probably) passed, and my consciousness stirred and came back to me. I opened my eyes and saw momma smiling down at me.
This is nostalgic.
She was a little different than when I last saw her, but it wasn't because of another evolution. She was injured--not as bad as I was, but she was still clearly pushing herself. If I had to take a guess at what happened, I would say that the flashes of light I saw when fading in and out of consciousness were a result of momma fighting to save me. How the hell did she deal with so many Small Baphomets? She wasn't the only one here, but the others weren't injured at all. They should have arrived late.
“Are you awake, baby? Can you hear my voice?”
“I’m awake, momma.”
I felt it would be unwise to sit up, so I continued resting on her lap. She was holding a monster core to my forehead, and I put active energy into absorbing the Magic Power from it. After a minute, I felt like it was safe to move a little. There were plenty of fresh Small Baphomet corpses nearby, so I staggered over to eat the closest one.
I'm glad her injuries seemed mostly superficial.
“Man, I was about to die for real. You saved my life,” I grinned sheepishly.
“What exactly happened here?” Varoon asked, looking at the dozens of Small Baphomet corpses strewn about. I was right about them arriving late.
“Ah, I guess they were hanging out nearby. I was using
“Didn’t you think of canceling the skill?” brother glared at me.
“I thought about it, but they might have attacked you all if I did that. Well, I might have acted differently if I’d known keeping it up would nearly get me killed.”
Momma smiled and contributed a few words to my support. “I wouldn’t have been able to defeat them all if you had stopped using it, baby. I killed several tens of them without any resistance at all before you lost consciousness and released the skill.”
Ah, so that's how she was able to beat them all alone. No, it's still impressive because she must have killed a bunch of them even after my aggro was released.
“Is that so? Then I'm glad everything worked out in the end.”
Durghan raised his hand and pointed a little ways off. “Lord Vyra, what should we do about him? That one seems to have survived.”
I spoke too soon, huh? I looked where Durghan was pointing. There I saw what should have been the boss's corpse, but it seemed to still be taking dangerously shallow breaths. He was clearly unconscious, but he was still alive. It was amazing considering the physical state the inside of his skull should have been in.
“Shall I kill him, baby?” Momma asked, smashing a Small Baphomet’s skull open with the back of her axe and digging out the magic core. “It’ll be over in an instant.”
I looked over at the barely living enemy boss. He fought well with his weapon, knew some earth magic, and had a drastically lowered Will stat. I could brainwash him into being a slave fairly easily.
But, how should I say this? He’s charismatic.
To think there was actually an opponent in this world who would pause in the middle of battle to exchange short, philosophical lines; an enemy who would beg and ask me why I was destroying his people. He said some lines that made me reflect upon my actions, and he said some lines that made my sadistic side cry out in anticipation. I value those traits, and they likely won’t remain if I brainwash him.
It might be a bad stance to have, but I want to see if I can make him submit willingly to my rule. He’s a leader type, so maybe he’d do it if I bargained using his remaining kinsman.
If that doesn’t work out, I’ll have a few experiments to run, but then I might have a very attractive alternative available.
“I want to keep him,” I said.
“Keep him? As a slave you mean,” Varoon said, but he was looking at me suspiciously. He probably noticed from my tone that I didn’t mean that.
“Not as a slave. I want to keep him, as he is." I raised my hand to my chin in thought, "If he doesn’t submit, it would be hard to call him a citizen, but would it be fine to call him a pet?” When I glanced around, I saw three pairs of wide eyes and one happy smile staring at me.
The one smiling is momma, while the rest look horrified. I definitely said something wrong.
Varoon held his face in his palm. “Keeping a person as a pet… How should I say this? Like mother like daughter? I didn’t know you enjoyed that sort of thing, my Lord.”
‘My Lord?’ Did you just denounce me as a sister?!
“Shut up! I meant it innocently! And even if I didn't, it's none of your business! I beat him, so I get to choose what to do with him.” I folded my arms and huffed, but the Fomor boss soon entered my sights again.
I went over to the boss's body and cast
“That’s not it,” momma said. I looked at her, not sure what she was talking about. “My Vyra decided to heal you.”
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Ah. So he was preparing for death.
The boss tentatively opened his eyes and alternated looking at my face and momma’s face, then he cast a glance at the unsure expressions of the three behind us. “So it seems,” he muttered. His yellow eyes locked with mine. “What will you do with me, Orc Lord?”
“Hmm.” I feel like how I answer here will make a big difference in his future attitude. Guess I should be serious.
I tipped my chin back, hoping to look more imposing, “What do you say to becoming a citizen of my country?”
He blinked at some of the words I used. “You mean… accept you as my Lord?” His brow furrowed. “You will use my strength against my people?”
I shook my head right away. “Don’t need it. Besides, if your strength was the only thing I was interested in, I’d make you a slave, not a free man.”
He lowered his head in thought. “... Then, did you want me as a go-between so the slaves will cooperate? Or, did you want to make use of my weaponsmithing technology?”
Eh? Weaponsmithing? That’s what he uses his earth magic for? Now I want him even more.
“Wrong on both accounts, but I might use you for those things later on.”
I couldn’t tell because of all the fur, but I got the sense that his face went pale. “So, then… I see. But, are you fine with the child being a Fomor?”
What? Child? How did it come to children?
I was stunned. The sound of momma giggling beside me pulled me out of it and made me blush.
“Wrong again,” I grumbled. “Rather, I'll kill you if you try. To explain it simply, I can erase the free will of slaves with my power, but I like your personality and I feel it would be a waste to overshadow it.”
“Like I was saying, you can make him a slave by restricting everything but his words,” Varoon grumbled behind me.
“Don’t make it sound like Law is as easy to control as magic,” I shot back.
I looked back at the boss. “What’s your name?”
He hesitated briefly. “It’s Bazarath.”
“Well then, what’s your answer, Bazarath?”
“What will you do if I refuse?”
I smiled and held back nothing. “I will chain you up and hold you as a prisoner until my research on Law is sufficiently developed. If the results go as I expect, you’ll be stripped of all your power, but your mind will be untouched. If it goes poorly, you’ll be brainwashed and enslaved, but your strength will remain.”
He sighed. “So the only way to remain myself is to submit willingly. I thought the Chosen had twisted minds, but, I feel like I’ve understood the real reason the Orc Lord is treated as a world-class calamity.”
My heart leapt in my chest, and I felt my cheeks flush. “That! That way with words is what I like about you. I thought I was good at insulting people, but you do it with such a straight face and matter-of-fact tone! The words are biting and traumatizing, but it all comes out so smoothly! I admire your ability and want to learn from it.”
Everybody besides momma looked baffled, but I didn’t bother myself with them. My mood was just too good to care.
“If you just want someone to insult you, I wouldn’t mind doing it,” Varoon offered sarcastically.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re practicing the wrong artform. I want to make people feel miserable, not angry.”
“And that,” Bazarath looked flabbergasted, “that’s why you’re offering me this chance?”
I smiled mildly. “Throughout this whole war, nobody but you dared to interrupt the combat and ask me why I was doing it. That was really great. It got to me.” I shrugged. "Well, it's not like you have to understand my feelings. You just have to comply."
Bazarath finally dared to get off his back. He rose to his knees and knelt before me, though that still left him taller than me.
“Lady Orc Lord, I still want to know what all of this was for. What did we do that was worth reducing our species to this state?”
Mm. It’s complicated at this point, but I guess he deserves the full answer?
“I have the Holy attribute. When I found out that Fomors could become the Demonic Attribute Small Baphomets every year with a ritual, I felt threatened by that. The only way I could think of to get rid of the Small Baphomets for good was to get rid of the Fomors as well.”
I was about to continue with how my thoughts had gotten more complicated after finding out that I had the Demonic attribute as well, but Bazarath interrupted.
“There’s no need to kill all the Fomors if that’s all! You can just put an end to the ceremony, and there won’t be any more of them!”
I tipped my head. “How’s that?” It's not like they would stop doing the ceremony just because I asked, right?
“We make use of an altar for the ceremony. It was made hundreds of years ago, and nobody would know how to make another one. Without it, there’s no way any Small Baphomets will appear again.”
I tipped my head back and groaned. “Mmmmmm. Well… It’s fine.”
It’s not fine. Committing genocide for no reason isn’t fine.
But I didn’t know about it, so it couldn’t be helped.
Hey, hey, destroying an ancient altar isn’t fine either!
Well, I can avoid hunting the remaining Fomors if I destroy it though.
Who cares if a few Fomors die? They can reproduce if we don’t kill all of them. An altar will be gone forever!
It lived a long and fruitful existence. If it’s not sentient or benevolent, we’ll destroy it.
“Sorry for killing and enslaving your race, I guess. It seems it was unnecessary.”
Bazarath’s jaw dropped. I ignored him and knocked open a few more Small Baphomet heads, harvesting the magic cores. I thought it would be better to resupply my Magic Power, just in case. “Now, you can take me to where the altar is,” I said, unfurling my regenerated wings.
“Before that,” momma interrupted, “I’d like to ask him something.” She gave me a look and I nodded. Momma turned and glared suspiciously at Bazarath through her smile. “You don’t mind if Fomors are forever deprived of the chance to return to the Sin Lord Baythes?”
Bazarath sighed honestly and shook his head. “I never liked the way those Chosen changed after being force-fed Demonic spirits. They should have been leaders for our people, but only a handful of them ever rose to that task. The rest just flocked around their betters, acting arrogant. Far from role models, they were closer to…” he glanced at me and raised a hand to cover his mouth. “Ehem. Well, monstrosities might be too much to describe them after all.”
I was mentally staggered by that sudden jab. Should I be taking notes? He makes it look so natural and easy! If I wasn’t enjoying myself, I might’ve taken serious mental damage! I actually admire him for being able to make comments like that in such a disadvantageous situation.
“Besides that,” he finished up, “I’m sure there was a good reason our people left Lord Baythes in the first place. There were plenty of chances for them to conform to his wishes before being cast out, but they refused. I'm of the same mind.”
No need to read into that. “Long story short, you don’t like Small Baphomets either. Got it.” I hopped into the air and settled down on Bazarath’s shoulders. “Take me to the altar. I’ll put efforts into rehabilitating the Fomor slaves into free people if this goes well.”
“Will you now?” Somehow, Bazarath seemed skeptical.
“I hate lying. If I say I’ll do it, then I’ll do it. On top of that, with War Orcs and Fomors both as my citizens, I’ll naturally put an end to the border war between you two.” Bazarath tried to sink into thought seriously, but I knocked on his horns. “Hey, hurry up. I want to see this altar.”
Bazarath gave a bitter laugh and started trotting. “So with this, I’ve effectively submitted to your terms, haven’t I?”
Is that how it is? I’m glad. “That’s right. I won’t accept it even if you want to change your mind later.”
Bazarath ran through the woods with me on top of him, picking up speed as he went. His magic power was drained, but his body was in perfect condition thanks to me. The long-distance speed he could achieve with his long legs was admirable, and soon I saw a pitch black altar in the distance.
The altar consisted of many concentric circles, forming steps down into the earth. On the lowest layer, there were arches surrounding the perimeter, and an obelisk in the center, a bit shorter than myself. There was some kind of bizarre magic pattern carved into the lowest platform.
I tried to use
Using
I'm sure it's fine.