Kragg stood in the dimly lit chamber, his massive arms crossed over his chest as he watched the orcs drag the harpy out of the cage. His sharp eyes followed their movements, a mixture of frustration and bitterness gnawing at him. The harpy, Sora, was barely conscious, stumbling with every step as the orcs forced him forward.

Kragg’s mind raced with thoughts of the battle, the duel that had been stolen from him. He had been on the verge of victory, about to reclaim his honor and the glory of combat, when Guldar had interfered. The warlock’s magic had ended the fight prematurely, leaving Kragg with a bitter taste in his mouth.

He wanted to fight. To taste the blood of his enemies and feel the weight of victory in his hands. But now, instead of leading his warriors into glorious combat, he found himself in this cursed place, surrounded by Guldar’s dark magic and twisted rituals.

Guldar entered the room, his long cloak sweeping across the floor as he approached. His face was hidden in the shadows of his hood, but Kragg could feel the warlock’s eyes on him, cold and calculating.

“You should thank me,” Guldar said, his voice smooth and confident. “I saved you from wasting time on that harpy. He’s more valuable as a prisoner than a corpse.”

Kragg’s jaw tightened, his tusks jutting forward in irritation. “You robbed me of a worthy duel. That was my fight.”

Guldar chuckled softly, the sound grating against Kragg’s nerves. “A duel with a boy? You call that glory?” The warlock stepped closer, his voice lowering. “You want to return to the frontlines, don’t you, Kragg? You dream of battle, of spilling blood in the name of our people. Or would you prefer to stay behind, gathering herbs and hunting small game?”

Kragg’s fists clenched at his sides, the warlock’s words cutting deep. He hated the idea of being left behind, away from the frontlines where real warriors belonged. The glory of combat was all he had ever known, and Guldar’s reminder of his current role as a mere hunter only fueled his anger.

“What do you want?” Kragg growled, his voice a low rumble.

“I want you to understand your place, hunter,” Guldar replied, his tone cold and commanding. “The chief gave you to me for a reason. You’re valuable, Kragg. But not if you let your pride blind you to what’s necessary.”

Kragg bristled at the word “hunter,” his title a reminder of how far he had fallen from the frontlines. But he held his tongue, knowing that Guldar’s magic was powerful, and that defiance would only lead to further humiliation.

“You want glory? You want to return to the frontlines?” Guldar continued, his voice like poison dripping into Kragg’s ear. “Then follow my orders. We’ll use the harpy for more than just sport. His kind can be useful, and you can be part of something far greater than a simple duel.”

Kragg’s gaze shifted to the unconscious harpy, now being carried by the orcs. The boy looked fragile, so unlike the warriors Kragg was used to fighting. But there had been something in his eyes during their battle—a fire, a determination—that Kragg couldn’t deny.

As much as it pained him to admit it, Guldar was right. The harpy was more useful alive, at least for now. And if playing along with Guldar’s schemes meant he could eventually return to the frontlines, then so be it.

“Fine,” Kragg muttered through gritted teeth. “But this isn’t over.”

Guldar’s lips curled into a thin smile beneath his hood. “Good. Now, leave the harpy to me. We have much to prepare.”

Kragg gave a curt nod, turning away from the warlock and the harpy. As he walked out of the chamber, his thoughts were filled with the distant sounds of battle, the clash of steel, and the cries of the fallen. His place was in the fray, where the strong triumphed and the weak were cast aside.

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One way or another, he would return to the frontlines. And when he did, he would make sure the orcs remembered the name Kragg.

- - -

The cold stone floor pressed against my cheek as I slowly regained consciousness. My body felt heavy, weighed down by something more than exhaustion. Every muscle ached, and my head throbbed with a dull, insistent pain. I tried to move, but my limbs wouldn’t respond at first, like they were wrapped in chains I couldn’t see.

Where am I?

I forced my eyes open, blinking against the dim, flickering light. My vision swam for a moment before the world came into focus. I was still in the dark place, surrounded by those strange, eerie objects—skulls, twisted artifacts, and glowing runes that seemed to pulse with some kind of malevolent energy. I look at myself and realized I was strapped to a cold stone table.

Panic surged through me. I tugged at the restraints, but they held firm, biting into my wrists and ankles. My arm-wings, pinned beneath me, twitched uselessly. I could barely spread them, and the feeling of being so confined made my heart race.

Footsteps echoed in the chamber, and a figure moved into my field of vision. My stomach twisted as I lay my tired eyes on the hunched silhouette of an orc. His hooded cloak draped around him like a shroud, and even though I couldn’t see his face, I could feel his eyes on me, full of malice.

“You’re finally awake,” the hunched orc said, his voice low and unsettling. He spoke in a language I couldn’t understand.

I tried to speak, to demand answers, but my throat was dry, and only a rasp came out. The orc ignored my feeble attempts, his attention shifting to the strange objects around him—vials filled with glowing liquid, twisted bones arranged in arcane patterns, and tools that looked like they belonged in a nightmare.

He muttered something under his breath, and I felt a cold rush of fear as one of the glowing vials was placed near me. A greenish light spilled from it, bathing my skin in an eerie glow. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew it couldn’t be good.

“Let’s see what you’re made of, little harpy,” he hissed, lifting a thin, needle-like tool. The glint of metal in the dim light made my heart pound even harder. He approached me, his hand hovering over my chest, and I felt a cold prickle of dread settle in the pit of my stomach.

The needle pricked my skin, sending a sharp bolt of pain through my body. I gasped, trying to thrash, but my muscles wouldn’t respond the way I wanted them to. Whatever magic orc was using, it was paralyzing me, keeping me helpless on this stone slab.

The orc began chanting, and the air around me grew heavier, like the very atmosphere was pressing in on my lungs. Dark energy crackled in the room, and I could feel it seeping into my body, crawling beneath my skin like a thousand tiny needles.

My mind screamed for me to fight, to break free, but the pain was overwhelming. My vision blurred again, and the room seemed to twist and warp around me, like the very fabric of reality was being pulled apart.

The orc's chanting grew louder, his voice taking on a harsh, guttural rhythm. The symbols carved into the stone table beneath me began to glow, pulsing in time with his words. I felt something cold and alien push into my chest, sinking deeper with each syllable.

I wanted to cry out, but my voice was gone. I could only endure the pain as the orc's magic twisted inside me, warping something deep within.

Then, just as quickly as it had begun, the chanting stopped. The pain receded, leaving me trembling and gasping for breath. I could still feel the dark magic clinging to me, like a shadow that wouldn’t leave. But for the moment, the worst of it had passed.

The orc stood over me, his expression unreadable beneath his hood. “Interesting,” he muttered, more to himself than to me. “You may prove useful yet.”

He stepped back, leaving me strapped to the table, my body shaking from the aftershocks of the magic. I was too weak to move, too drained to think. All I knew was that whatever that orc had done, it wasn’t over.

The darkness pressed in again, threatening to swallow me whole. And this time, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever wake up, but I try to keep awake as I see a familiar screen before everything went black.

"Danger host under curse initializing curse removal."

"Curse failed to removed."

"Searching for solution...'

"Solution found."

"Using authority to counteract the Curse"

"You have been given the skill: Divine Light"