Ararys had adapted to her new life quickly, not complaining one bit as this life was much better than her previous one. There was no longer the fear of a beating and all she had to do was accompany Yargul and cook his food for him. She could even have a full stomach, something that she never knew until the day Yargul gave her two deer legs to eat. She was really lucky, if she hadn’t chosen to hide in his house... she shuddered at the mere idea of what could have happened.
It was better to focus on now, for now, was much better than the past. Although, she couldn’t help but get curious, why did Yargul choose to keep her? This was the greatest mystery to her, Yargul had access to far better slaves, ones that were both prettier and better at cooking. So why her? She didn’t dare ask however, slaves never asked questions and even though her life was better than before, she was still definitely a slave. That never changed and she didn’t dare have it changed, she was satisfied with her life as it was.
Speaking of which, so was Yargul. He had a cook to make great food and one that was terrifically obedient, what else could an orc want? Well, perhaps a woman but Yargul was as of now uninterested in such things, when he was the strongest orc he would have plenty of time to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh.
Meanwhile, his sister was busy trying to find a challenger worthy enough to face her brother, not just worthy enough but also strong enough. She knew that this was her last chance, if she was unable to kill her brother with this champion of hers, Yargul would kill her. He had warned her so the last time she sent a champion his way, his eyes without any hesitation. At that moment, she briefly considered if she should give up, she was really courting death at this point.
But then she hardened her heart, the words of her mother echoing in her ears, “You have a great big brother! Why don’t you be more like him?”
She then gritted her teeth, her brother knew no fear and so would she, even in the face of death. If Yargul were able to read her thoughts, he would nod with pride, his sister had finally become a true orc. Even though she was weak, she would still face him with what weapons she had and face the consequences of her actions without fear. If only she had become like this sooner, then he might not have to kill her. But the world wasn’t fair, some who possessed great potential never lived to reach it, either dying young or lacking the ambition to reach great heights.
That was just how the world was, not everyone was lucky there will always be those that suffer. This was a truth that the Surveyor had discovered in its observation, there were the lucky ones, the unfortunate, the talented, and the useless. There was in the past and there will be in the future, this was simply how it was, there was no going around an no denying it. But mortals tried to defy this very truth, the unfortunate believing that if they worked hard enough, they could eventually drag themselves out of the hole Life shoved them in. And some manage to do so, although there were precious few who possessed the willpower to do so.
The Surveyor had always made sure to watch them, these particular mortals always were a source of new and fascinating information. Urzul could be counted among them, although it was a shame that her life would be cut short. But the Surveyor could only sigh and move on, it had already interfered too much by announcing itself as the Master of Otium. But that was necessary, otherwise, it would have had to eliminate two interesting specimens, the White Dragon and the Orc King when the eventually clashed in war upon Otium. Bloodshed on Otium was intolerable and so they would have been killed without remorse, thus ending the stories of two fascinating creatures. It couldn’t just stand by and let this happen, it had already lost Azemar and it would not lose two others. These individuals were valuable to its research and not only would it be a shame but a sin not to make sure that they lived up to their full potential.
Yes, it really would be a shame. The Surveyor then coalesced into a mortal form and took a walk in its Library, nodding to Silren who was reading in a chair that was provided specifically for her. She shyly waved back and the Surveyor paid her no more heed, heading outside the Library and onto the walls of Otium. It overlooked the calm sea, its black and silver robes undisturbed by the strong winds that blew. Its gaze then locked onto something off in the distance and for a moment, it stared before turning and disappearing into the pyramid. In the direction that it had stared off into, thousands of leagues away, an ancient boat sailed. Aboard it was a crew of humans and elves, the representatives and their escorts of the Alliance.
There was arguing over who should go but eventually, two elves and two humans would go, a pair of male and female each. This was to prevent more conflict between the two sides and also because these two duos were one of the strongest that the Alliance had to offer. Of course, this was a double-edged sword, if the Alliance were to lose these four they would be severely weakened but they believed in the ancient tales of Otium, a place where violence was not tolerated. Surely, their representatives would be safe.
And at roughly the same time in the land of Saurians, the White Dragon was preparing to leave despite the words of her advisors. She was incensed by the Custodian who had so rudely barged into her home and she intended to take revenge on its master. But due to the urging of her advisors, her departure had been delayed although today, she had enough. She was going to go and nothing would stop her. Her advisors could only sigh and obey, although they insisted that she take another Saurian with her.
They didn’t want her to disappear again and listening to their reasons, the White Dragon’s heart softened and she then spoke, “Then let the strongest of you be my champion. I will wait until my champion appears.”
And so the White Dragon decided to wait until her champion was chosen, the Saurians immediately spreading the word of this. As the Saurians were choosing their champion, Auster was already on Otium, its representatives treated well by the Custodians who said that the Master of Otium would not meet them until the other representatives arrived. They were invited to stay and enjoy the services that Otium had to offer and the representatives did not refuse, after all, food that Otium served was the best that mortals had to offer. Obviously, such meals were hard to come by and the representatives intended to make full use of this opportunity.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
And back on Occasus, the Orc King was preparing to move out. He assembled his elite army and set out, he had conquered Otium before and considered it his territory. He also knew that it had been retaken but he didn’t pay it too much heed, there were far more serious matters to attend to at the time. But this was the last straw, a person who dared call themselves the Master of Otium had dared to send a messenger into his palace, this was unacceptable. He intended to teach this Master a lesson, after all, he was the Orc King, he was the strongest of all creatures and to steal from him is a death sentence.
Meanwhile, the Surveyor smiled as it watched the Orc King, how would the Orc King act upon realizing that he was weak? Of course, that sword of his was nothing to laugh at, however, that sword had been collecting blood almost daily for over a thousand years, passed down from Orc King to Orc King who each fed it with blood almost daily. As such the power this blade held was formidable. It was, after all, a blade that grows stronger every time it tastes blood, a very powerful weapon in the hands of an orc who go out to fight and kill almost every day of their lives.
Not even the Surveyor could properly assess the power that this blade held until it saw it first hand and it was, what a mortal would call, excited to do so. After all, if it could get its hands on this weapon, not only would its knowledge grow but it would also gain strength. After all, to be able to replicate such a weapon and possibly perfect it would be a great boon for its chances of survival. The Surveyor was not arrogant, it was fully aware of its strengths and weaknesses and right now, it was far too weak for its liking. Also, it could not deny that it was curious about a True Divine Weapon, the humans had called its amulet a divine object but the Surveyor had never studied a Divine Weapon until now.
Truly, it was fortunate, it had never imagined that it would meet so many fascinating individuals. But there was also the matter of Silren, it would be best if she did not come to the Library when the Surveyor eventually met with the representatives face-to-face, as their host it would be rude not to invite them into its home. They would enter its vast Library and there would be many questions that would be rather hard to answer if they were to see Silren. It could make an excuse but it would rather that she didn’t come, everything would flow far more efficiently if she was absent. It would have to bring up the matter with her, yes, perhaps tomorrow?
———
Meanwhile, Yargul stood at the door of his home, studying the champion that his sister had produced.
She bragged, “This time brother, you will die! This orc knows how to use magic and no matter how strong you are, you cannot beat magic!”
Yargul smirked. “You’d be surprised.”
His face then grew stern. “You know the consequence, correct?”
Urzul sneered. “You will be the only one to die here Yargul.”
Yargul just shrugged and walked out, mace in hand. Then looking at his opponent, he snorted and tossed his mace aside.
“I won’t be needing this.”
The orc’s face purpled with rage and he growled, “You will regret that.”
Yargul retorted, “Make me.”
The orc suddenly roared, his fist wreathed in orange flames as he threw a right hook. He had a confident look on his face, no matter how strong Yargul was, he couldn’t block his flames. Suddenly, his fist met a cold, ungiving surface and given the strength which he put into his punch, his fist actually shattered. Grimacing in pain, he quickly retreated, his eyes bulging out with shock as he beheld the ice scales of Yargul which were as clear as glass.
The orc stared with unbelieving eyes, “Impossible! Your sister told me that you don’t have magic!”
Urzul was also staring with disbelieving eyes, how had her brother attained such strength? These thoughts were also shared by the orcs who had gathered to watch the fight, some of them had fancied their chances against Yargul but upon seeing this, they were reminded at just who they would have been fighting against.
The orc suddenly began to plead for his life, “Please Yargul, no, Lord Yargul, I will do anything! It was a mistake to listen to your sister, oh, I know! I will-”
Yargul silenced him with a hand, “Cowards have no place in this world.”
He then placed his hand on the orc’s head and made a fist, crushing his head in his hand. The dead challenger slumped to the floor and Yargul glanced over to Urzul whose face had grown pale.
Yargul had an indifferent look on his face as he slowly walked to her.
“Sister, I will give you one of two choices: fight me like a warrior and die bravely or I hunt you down like an animal.”
She was silent, her hand finally grabbing the dagger that she kept at her waist.
“Die brother!” she shouted, charging at Yargul.
Yargul casually caught the knife and in one fluid move, he stabbed it into her chest. She looked down at her chest, unsurprised at the outcome.
She then locked eyes with her brother, saying bitterly, “Well, it seems that you win again.”
Her body then fell forward, Yargul catching her. He slowly laid her down on the ground, treating the body with respect. At least she was far braver than the orc he just killed.
He then looked at the crowd of orcs who were watching and commanded, “Take ‘em away.”
He then turned and picked up his mace, entering his house once again. He was silent for the remainder of the day, his eyes holding a look of pity. Truly, it was a shame that his sister had to die.
The next day came and Yargul was back to his usual self, at least he appeared to be, and took Ararys with him on another hunting trip. He had treated her well, giving her clothing that was far better than what slaves usually wore, although this was necessary as where he went was often cold, humans wouldn’t last a day without proper clothing. Today was no different as this time, he was heading to the base of Jagged-Tooth Mountain. He wasn’t there to hunt the Master of the Mountain, he knew that his prey was extremely secretive and was unlikely to go out and fight him.
So he ignored it, instead looking for other creatures that he could test his strength against. He soon found it in the Mountain Ape, a large humanoid creature that was covered head-to-toe in black fur with dark blue skin. It had fearsome-looking teeth but this was the least of its weapons, its two arms were far more deadly as they were as large as tree trunks and hit with the power of an orcish battle ram. But that wasn’t all, it possessed a grip-strength so powerful that it was able to choke a Frostwolf King to death even with the Frostwolf’s near-impregnable ice scales defending its neck. This was a dangerous opponent to face but Yargul wasn’t afraid, rather, he was excited. It had been long since he last fought an opponent with his life on the line.