Nothing but the howling wind answered Yargul’s roar, much to Yargul’s rage. He thought for sure that the beast would come to hunt him now that he had answered its challenge but it didn’t! Why? Why did it insist on hiding in this barren mountain!? It should have leapt at the chance to tear apart the impudent orc that dared trespass on its territory but it did not. Having nothing else to do, Yargul retreated back into the cave and meditated on this, trying to understand the reasoning behind the beast’s unwillingness to come out. He went into semi-hibernation, sleeping most of the time to reduce energy consumption in an effort to stave off starvation.
He wouldn’t last forever but in this way, he would continue to live for the next twenty days. Luckily, the snowstorm ended in eleven and upon realizing that there was no longer a snowstorm, Yargul immediately roused himself and descended the mountain to hunt. After eleven days of being trapped inside the cave with nothing to do and nothing to eat, the only thing on his mind was food. He began to eat leaves and branches when he reached the forest, these wouldn’t fill his stomach but they would be able to provide a meager amount of energy that he could use to hunt. After stripping three trees of their leaves and branches, he began to prowl the woods, searching for prey.
He made no attempt to hide his presence, daring predators to come out and hunt him. It wasn’t long before one did so, a Frostwolf King. It was a wolf that possessed a physique similar in size to that of a bear, with spines of ice running along the ridge of its back and capable of using ice magic. It possessed a nearly impregnable defense for in a pinch, it could solidify its fur with its ice magic, creating near invincible scales of ice that covered every inch of it. Its attack was something to be feared as well, capable of breathing an ice attack that froze anything caught in it as well as jaws that could mangle a three-inch thick iron plate as if it was cloth.
But Yargul charged in fearlessly, his hunger overriding his common sense, his hunger telling him to eat the creature before him instead of running away. The Frostwolf glared at him before opening its great jaws and unleashing a storm of ice. Yargul managed to dodge, although his left side was now covered in frostbite. He ignored his wounds and continued forward, the Frostwolf activating its ice defense, shining scales of ice appearing all over it. It then growled and opened its jaws, meaning to devour the reckless orc that charged at it.
It bit down but to its surprise, the jaws that it was so proud of were suddenly stopped as if it had bitten some of its own ice scales. It strove to bite down but although its jaws could snap quick as lightning and strong enough to tear through iron, in a battle of strength, its jaws were simply lacking. Most of that power came from the speed at which it closed its jaws coupled with its sharp fangs. Of course, the strength of its jaws would overpower even the strongest of humans but Yargul was no human. He grabbed the teeth of the Frostwolf and held them open, not minding the wounds that his hand incurred.
But the wolf did not give up just yet, it suddenly yanked its head upward, throwing Yargul into the air. Satisfied, the Frostwolf, opened its maw underneath Yargul, preparing to swallow him whole. But when it tried to bite down, once more it found that it couldn’t do so, Yargul had managed to wedge himself just inside the mouth with his feet planted firmly on the wolf’s tongue and his hands placed on the roof of the wolf’s mouth. He began to “stand” in a sense, his muscles bulging out as he pushed them to their limits. Then, with a sudden crack, the wolf’s lower jaw suddenly gave way and Yargul tumbled out of the wolf’s mouth.
The Frostwolf stumbled away, uttering a terrible cry as it was no longer able to howl properly without a functioning mouth. The wolf barely understood what was going on, all that it knew was that it tried to bite but couldn’t and then suddenly, its mouth was filled with pain. In its moment of distress, it didn’t notice Yargul charging once more, body-slamming its leg, causing the joint to bend in a way it wasn’t supposed to. The wolf howled even more and in irritation, Yargul looked around and seized a young tree. He tore it away, leaving a jagged stump and holding out the jagged end, he stabbed the beast in the eye.
He buried more than three feet of the young tree into the wolf’s eye, killing it instantly. The body fell down, twitching for a few moments before finally laying still. Yargul wasted no time and he tore out a tooth from the beast, using it to make a small hole in the beast’s hide. As blood welled in the wound, Yargul hurriedly began to suck on it, the hot blood soothing his parched throat. Once the blood had run out, he made a larger hole and bit into the cooling meat, tearing off a good chunk and devouring it hungrily. If one were to look at him now, they would be unable to discern him from a wild animal, not that orcs were too different from beasts anyways.
He continued his frenzied feeding until half of the meat was gone. By then, his hunger had been sated and some semblance of sanity returned to him. He made his way over to a fresh patch of snow and proceeded to clean himself as best he could, getting most of the blood off of his face and arms. He then grabbed the corpse of the Frostwolf and dragged back up the mountain, dropping it off in the cave. He returned to the forest to scavenge for wood, he intended to cook the rest of the meat so that it would last longer and provide more energy. He even tore down trees to feed the fire, although this would come a bit later when the fire was strong enough to devour them.
After a few hours of foraging, he finally returned to the cave to make a fire, taking one final look at his surroundings before entering the cave. Inside, he made a small pile out of twigs and leaves as well as some birchbark that he had found, birchbark made excellent tinder. Once he did so, he began to strike the firestones, directing the sparks into the tinder. Eventually, a spark began to burn and Yargul quickly began to blow on it, nourishing it with oxygen. Soon, a small flame came into being and he quickly began to feed it twigs, going off to gather small branches off of the trees that he had brought, feeding them as well to the fire.
Once the fire was big enough, he fed it some small logs and dragged some of the trees over, planning to use the heat to dry them out faster. Now that the fire was established, Yargul sighed and leaned against the cave wall, he had suffered some wounds against the Frostwolf. The most notable wounds were on his hands which had large holes gouged in them by the beast’s teeth. With the cold and adrenaline, Yargul hadn’t noticed but now, with the warmth of the fire, the pain began to kick in. He grunted with discomfort, it was a shame that his hands were wounded, they were one of his most important tools. But, seeing as the master of Jagged-Tooth Mountain had yet to make an appearance, Yargul guessed that he would have more than enough time to heal from his wounds.
So he decided to hunker down for the moment, simply enjoying the warmth of the fire. Unbeknownst to him, something was watching him, the Master of the Mountain. It was curious about this impudent orc, he was far more patient than his fellow orcs, most would have wandered off with disinterest and the Master had assumed the same of this one. But against its expectations, the orc actually seemed to be intent on living here until he fought it. The Master of the Mountain then slipped away from the mouth of the cave, its large dark hands sweeping the snow to cover its tracks. Some distance away, it began to walk normally, its long white fur blending in with its white surroundings.
An hour later, Yargul awoke from his nap and seeing that the fire had died down to hot embers, he decided that it was time to cook the meat and bone marrow. In fact, he had saved the bones of the meat that he had already eaten, not because they were tasty but because he could gain the abilities of the Frostwolf King from them. Magic was in the very fiber of these beasts but eating the meat did not give on the abilities of said beast, no, it lay in the beast’s blood. But blood still had to gain the magical properties and that’s where the marrow comes in, it produces said magic blood.
Of course, blood itself was not without its uses but marrow was far more valuable as one was able to obtain the magical abilities of said beast. But through the process of consuming and digesting the marrow, only a fraction of the magic actually reaches the marrow of the person ingesting it, thus meaning that said person is unable to exert the magic beast’s full capabilities. But magic is still magic and magic is a potent thing. With this magic, Yargul would obtain an edge over the Master of the Mountain, one that may very well be his only way to victory.
Of course, to consume magical bone marrow was not an easy feat, magic was by nature a free thing and being freed from a magic beast, it would most certainly try to break free. Thus a strong stomach is needed in order to consume the marrow, stomachs that only magical beasts and orcs possess. If a human were to try and consume the magical bone marrow, they would combust as energy would run rampant through the body until it burst into flame. But this didn’t only happen to humans, many orcs had burned to death for being too reckless. But who could resist? To a race that couldn’t use magic like humans or elves, the ability to use magic was immeasurably valuable.
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Only now, under the wisdom of the Orc King were orcs now able to harness the mysteries of magic, although many orcs still needed to consume magical marrow in order to use magic. There were a few orcs over the generations that could use magic naturally but most lived their lives without ever finding out that they could do so. The Orc King was able to spot these special individuals and although there were only seven of them at the moment, there were sure to be more in the future.
The Orc King himself was one of these individuals, possessing a powerful magic that was similar to the human’s Ruling Magic, a magic to rule over magic. Once it was invoked, all types of lesser magic were rendered ineffective, making the Orc King a force of absolute authority among magic wielders. On top of that, he possessed one of the finest bodies an orc could have, trained from his childhood and honed through countless duels and battles. He stood at the pinnacle of what orcs could be, the top of the pyramid, a pyramid made of the bodies of those that he defeated. It was this position that Yargul aimed to achieve, not the position of King but the position of the Strongest Orc. To defeat the Orc King was his goal and the goal of many other orcs who also wished to become strong.
But such a goal was out of his reach for now so Yargul put his mind off of it, instead focusing on eating the bone marrow, planning to slowly digest it over the course of a week. And it was wise that he started out small for soon, his howls of pain echoed around the mountain, his stomach burning and yet cold at the same time. The energies contained within the magical marrow tried to break free, refusing to be conquered and it was several arduous hours before Yargul’s screams finally stopped, his body having finally defeated the magical energy.
But he had only consumed the marrow of a single femur, he still had a lot more bones to go. His plan of digesting over a week was too optimistic, he actually spent a total of three weeks conquering the magic energy, left drained and quite weak after his ordeal. The fire had long gone out and the meat of the Frostwolf had been eaten a long time ago, he mostly spent his time sleeping or lying still, his face twisted with pain. But all this pain was worth it, when Yargul had recovered somewhat, he began to practice his newfound abilities, namely the famous Ice Scales of the Frostwolf. He tried to cover his entire body but the ice scales only formed around his fists and arms, it wouldn’t appear anywhere else on his body.
But this was to be expected, even if he had conquered the magic, his body had only absorbed a fraction of it, therefore he wouldn’t be able to exert the full abilities of the Frostwolf King. But this much was fine, his arms and fists were the most important weapons he possessed and now that they were practically invincible with the ice scales, he already possessed a huge advantage over other orcs. Yargul then spent another month on Jagged-Tooth Mountain, testing out the limits of his newfound ability before finally leaving. He may not have fought the Master of the Mountain but he had grown in strength so this wasn’t too much of a loss.
But before he left, he made a vow, shouting, “Master of the Mountain! I will return to fight you and this time, I will only leave once I kill you!”
———
End’s daughter, Silren, perused the seemingly endless Library of the Surveyor. It was a physical place now, the Surveyor had transported his Library into Otium itself, Otium was his home and he might as well make use of it. He also planned to interact with mortals in person and he decided that it would be best to do it as the Librarian. Anyways, Silren finally found a book that she wanted to read and took it from the shelf, the book seeming as if it been made just yesterday. All the books were like that, created with materials that were impervious to decay.
But Silren was already used to such things, she had been visiting his Library nearly every day now for the past seven and a half years and even after coming here so often, she had yet to read every single book in the Library. She was confused at first but then came to terms with the fact that Erus and the Library were things beyond her understanding. So she merely took the book and snapped her fingers, a comfortable chair appearing. She took a seat and began to read.
As she read, the Surveyor began to prepare for the eventual conflict to come, deciding to send four Custodians, each to the four powers that ruled Agleon: the Alliance, Auster, the White Dragon, and the Orc King. Its Custodians will relay a simple message, that the Master of Otium has returned.
In the hall of the Orc King, a Custodian appeared from a black gate, the orcs which were in the middle of an intense orgy completely ignorant of his presence. The Custodian was at a loss for a few moments as the sound of pleasurable moans and slapping flesh assaulted its ears. In irritation, it unleashed a cold aura that soon filled the entire room. Suddenly unbearably cold, all the orcs and the Orc King’s sex slaves looked to the source of the cold, a figure clad in black robes. They were confused as to what exactly this person was and how he got there, some of the more bold orcs intending to teach this intruder a lesson.
But before they could lay a finger on it, the Custodian created a dark blade, slashing the three orcs apart, their bodies cleanly sliced in two. A few more orcs went to challenge him but all suffered the same fate and soon, the Custodian was surrounded by numerous corpses. As these were the elites of his army, the Orc King shouted at them to stop, he couldn’t afford to lose more. Seeing as it no longer needed to defend itself, the Custodian dismissed its blade and then prepared to deliver a message.
It’s emotionless voice, which chilled everyone in the room, filled the chamber, “Know this, Ruler of Orcs, the Master of Otium has returned.”
And just like that, the Custodian left, turning and walking through the strange black gate, leaving a shocked audience. The Orc King was left stunned, he was the one who was supposed to deliver ultimatums and ignore those beneath him, he wasn’t supposed to receive them! Rage bubbled up but just as quickly dissipated, he realized that whoever the Master of Otium was, he possessed powerful pawns, namely the Custodian who far surpassed his elites in terms of strength and magic prowess. The Orc King began to think on this matter, retiring to his private chambers while the orgy continued.
Meanwhile, at the throne room of Auster, the Emperor, the fifth since the time of the previous Surveyor, was in the middle of discussing some matters of great import when a Custodian appeared before him. Once more, in the same voice, the Custodian relayed the message that the Master of Otium had returned. In the cave of the White Dragon, the Custodian appeared, preparing to speak but was forced to dodge the White Dragon's attack. The White Dragon didn’t take too kindly its invasion of her home sighting the offender in her eyes, she opened her mouth and unleashed a flood of incandescent dragon fire. She continued to breathe for far longer than she normally would, stopping when her anger was gone. But it soon flared up again when she saw that the Custodian was still there. It had opened a gate right in front of it and right behind, avoiding the flames entirely.
That was not to say it was unharmed, the heat had certainly taken its toll but as it was a being without a body of flesh, it would not succumb so easily to such things. Once more it tried to speak but was forced to dodge a swipe from the White Dragon, the White Dragon growling with anger as she found that it had escaped unharmed yet again. As it dodged, it tried to speak to the White Dragon but she refused to listen, she was the one who spoke, not the one who listened. Finally, the Custodian could only retreat back to Otium in failure.
Upon hearing of its Custodian's failure, the Librarian then decided to send the Sentinel within a body of crystalline dark matter. It should be enough to withstand the attacks of the White Dragon and to make her listen, after all, crystalline dark matter was nigh indestructible.
As soon as it appeared, the unbearable cold of Darkness filled the chamber, the White Dragon pausing as it felt this familiar sensation. It then saw the form of the Sentinel, a golem made of dark crystal. she was surprised and curious but not enough to allow it to speak. It did not change the fact that her home had been invaded and that it was the offender, it had to die. And so she prepared to expel this invader, suddenly stopping as her mind came under attack. She roared and tore at the ground but the assault did not stop, a powerful voice booming within her mind.
The Lord of Otium has returned and you are invited. You are free to accept or decline.
Having finished delivering its message, the Sentinel retreated through a gate, leaving a infuriated White Dragon who roared her fury into the sky, causing all nearby Saurians to tremble in fear.
And finally, in the main floating island of the Alliance, the humans and elves—which were in the midst of arguing—were all shocked by the presence of the Custodian. It glanced around at the mortals surrounding it before it relayed its message, disappearing through the gate once it had completed its mission.
There was intense discussion after the appearance of these Custodians by the leaders of the four powers, each group finally reaching a decision that a representative must be selected to visit Otium. Meanwhile, the Surveyor just relaxed, it wondered what fascinating individuals it would meet in a few month’s time.