Chapter 1039 Morgrak Hold
Surprisingly, the speech had a very positive impact on the entire army.
It was all thanks to Ryze's beautiful approach, making him seem more similar and relatable in terms of personal background with each individual soldier. Despite the soldiers coming from varying backgrounds, there was one single thing they had in common.
A red thread that connected them with the others.
Ryze was able to decipher that red thread connecting them as their view on Rex.
Since most of them came from the Burton and Hestar Family, they must've had a very strong bond with the head family, Sir Daniel and Lady Lauren. Assuming that was the correct move, as they were loyal enough to abandon their home.
Leaving the human territory, the place that protected them for years must've been difficult.
But their loyalty prevails and they end up here.
In the past, when Rex was still dealing with the 25 Golden Crrest Families, he was also close with not only the head families but also the descendants. Naturally, the Awakened definitely heard some things about Rex from them.
With Sir Daniel and Lady Lauren volunteering to come here, they must've favored Rex.
Reflecting the family they serve, the Awakened would also favor Rex.
From those quick assumptions that he made, he realized that the uncertainty they had about the current situation was not true doubt. It was more because they were not regulated, since the head families were away and left a handful of them behind.
All they needed was a push and clarity which Ryze provided to them directly.
Seeing the army cheering in determination, the smile on Ryze and Gelmar's faces spreads.
Keeping their chin held high, the two turned around and went back inside.
Upon re-entering the castle, as both Dindora and Linthia looked on in surprise, Gelmar cast a glance at Ryze and asked, "Where did that come from...? Sir Ryze, you nailed it. Your speech earlier made the entire army resonate with you, clear with one goal in mind"
Ryze returns the glance before averting his gaze away again, inhaling deeply.
He also didn't know how he could mutter those words, his mind was working automatically.
It was as if someone else possessed his body and delivered the speech.
Shaking his head lightly, he replied, "It came from the heart... I only said what's on my mind"
Gaining his answer, Gelmar's expression brightens for a moment before stiffening in the end. He now realized that what Ryze said earlier was completely true, it was the truth of his own background, a slave who was about to be traded away.
Everything would have gone wrong had Rex not come and saved him from that hell hole.
Now Gelmar knew why his speech resonated with the army.
It was because Ryze was telling every single word from the heart as he was truly thankful.
Dindora and Linthia also exchanged knowing glances, their expressions reflecting both joy and trouble. On one side, they were pleased with the success of Ryze's impactful speech, but their happiness was tempered by the somber reality of his true and difficult past.
It would be inappropriate for them to be happy, knowing that the story was true.
Just like them, Ryze has also become a slave.
In stark contrast to them who were Supernaturals, he was a complete human and yet got hit by the cruel fate of enslavement by his own kind—an affliction more egregious than them. At the very least, Gelmar, Dindora, and Linthia were enslaved by the opposing force.
Meanwhile, he grappled with the bitter betrayal by his own kind.
Unanimously, Gelmar, Dindora, and Linthia feel even more familiar with Ryze.
"Me and Linthia will go down and take control of the army, when you are ready and finished the preparation to depart, we can march," Dindora said firmly. "If we move right now, there should be enough time to reach there before the fight starts"
Listening to this, Ryze nodded before the two of them left.
Now, it was only him and Gelmar, "We should place Sir Kyran in a safer place,"
"Yes, we don't have any choice, we have to leave him here" Ryze agreed.
Opting to confine Kyran in the underground chamber, originally the Witch's chamber, the two hastened their steps toward the designated room. Their pace was brisk, and they managed to reach the bed chamber in no time.
But as they got closer, a frown started forming on their foreheads.
"Did you leave the door open earlier, Sir Ryze?" Gelmar inquired, he felt uneasy about this.
Ryze denied that, "No, I remember closing it behind me,"
Recognizing the anomaly, they shared a meaningful glance before hastily making their way to the bed chamber—barging into the room. As they stepped inside, both were seized by a chilling gasp of horror, seeing the bed was empty.
Nobody was lying there, Kyran was nowhere to be seen.
"What in the world-"
Breaking out of the trance, the two started to look around the room in a hurry.
Even below the bed was not spared from their sweep.
However, even though they already turned the entire place upside down, Kyran was nowhere to be seen which means that he was not inside, "Don't tell me someone came and kidnap him again? No, it can't be, our security is tight in this castle, any infiltrator should at least activate one of the traps I set"
Gelmar was already freaking out, he was stressing over this blunder.
Losing Kyran for the second time must be one of the worst scenarios for Rex after the fight.
But it was then that Ryze intervened, "No, nobody kidnapped him"
Upon hearing this, Gelmar turned towards him and found him pointing at the ground near the unglazed window. He could see a light crack on the ground, signifying one thing, "Did- Did Sir Kyran wake up and go out on his own...?"
"Yes, he definitely woke up, and instantly headed somewhere" Ryze nodded with a frown.
It was quite obvious for Ryze.
Since Gelmar was quite confident in the security of the castle, it would be illogical that some infiltrator managed to sneak inside unnoticed. Thus, Ryze already assumed that Kyran went out on his own.
Knowing what to look for, it's easy to find the crack near the window.
A sign left behind by Kyran's escape.
"He should be fine if he went out on his own, but the question is, where is he heading...?"
...
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Supernatural territory.
Amidst the rugged terrain, where craggy peaks kiss the sky and verdant valleys cradle the berserker ingenuity, lies Morgrak Hold—a thriving orcish bastion of raw power, one of the strongest Orc Villages around.
With the sun rising above the horizon, the village awakens with a pulsating vitality.
Dwellings crafted from weathered timber and adorned with trophies and flags of conquest stand proudly against the backdrop of breathtaking mountains. Pungent scent of roasting meats wafts through the air, mingling with the rhythmic symphony of clanging blacksmiths and the fervent hum of industy.
Orcish craftmanship were displayed on the market stalls.
Bone carvings, enchanted leathery goods, and weaponry could be seen in every corner.
A definite decorations for a race bred for war.
Looking from a bird's eye view, the entire village spanned vast, covering several mountains around with at least a life of more than a hundred thousand Orcs. It's a great territory for a single clan, living in isolation.
However, their unparalleled might was the cause of their massive expansion.
In this village lies the great Goz Errudh Clan, led by Lurbhuk the Cleaver—a legendary black Orc that has led his people to greatness. Even with the awakening of the older generations, Lurbhuk sustained his position with full blessing.
Naturally, in the world of Orcs, only the big and strong could rule over them.
Enhanced by the support of an impressive eight of of nine shamans, the entire village was infused with rituals, saturating the air with primal magic that bestowed blessings upon every inhabitant of this bustling community. Even the village defied stereotypes with its open doors, welcoming other races for trade—a remarkable achievement considering the tribal and animalistic reputation often associated with orc settlements.
Inside the Great Hall, the fortress of Lurbhuk himself, there was a small meeting taking place.
Six clans have already embraced the idea of uniting with the Silverstar Pack and join their new alliance. Considering even those animal-witted chiefs are amenable to such a proposal, we, as a more diplomatic and advanced clan should follow suit," Remarked an Orc in an Orc accent adorned in spiky obsidian armor, expressing concern as he addresses the imposing figure at the center—Lurbhuk himself.
Lurbhuk tapped his beefy fingers on the wooden table in contemplation.
It has been some time since the proposal.
But he was still undecided as this is a big decision, and he had only his clan's safety in mind.
Even then, his reputation as a sensible Orc would diminish if he refuses.
Since the high-rank Supernaturals were only going to treat them as animals of wars, instead of another reckoned force, siding with them is not optimal. Meanwhile, on the other hand, it was different with the Silverstar Pack.
Had he joined them, there's a big possibility that they would be treated way better.
Just as he was about to came to a decision, an Orc barged inside.
One of the Warchiefs went inside with hurried steps, and he instantly turned to Lurbhuk with clear concern on his face, "Lord Chief, there's a problem. A visitor came saying that he wants to trade for our Ironhaert Ale, but he made trouble in one of our breweries"
"Hmm...? He dares?" the Orc beside Lurbhuk stood up, spreading his massive statures.
Lurbhuk, on the other hand, asks, "What is he?"
"I don't know, Lord Chief, but he is comparable in size with us" the Warchief replied.
Upon hearing this, Lurbhuk frowned, for only two races came to mind that could rival Orcs in size, and neither was a favorable prospect. Standing up, knowing that the situation might be escalating at this very moment, he declared, "Take me there, I'll judge the situation myself"
Meanwhile, on the most famous breweries, there was a big commotion.
A gang of five Orcs were surrounding a table.
Each of them possesses formidable sixth-rank realm power, marking them as among the strongest Orcs or a formidable gang from the older generations. Eyeing the black hooded figure seated nonchalantly, the five Orcs tighten their grip on their clubs.
"What did you say to me, outsider?!" One of the Orcs roared thunderously.
Despite the hostility from the Orcs, the hooded figure chuckled.
He didn't even turn his body towards the gang of Orcs and only drink the ale he ordered.
It was obvious that he think nothing of the gang of Orcs.
Enraged, one of the Orc who has his patience completely run out charged forward—lifting his club high in the air for a powerful vertical strike. But as the club descends, the black hooded figure tilted his body back as the attack destroyed the wooden table.
Crash!
Recovering from the attack, the Orc looked at the black hooded figure again.
But in that moment, the veins across his body bulged in anger.
Not even taking this matter seriously, the black hooded figure was still drinking in complete nonchalance, even smacking his lips in satisfaction with the taste of the ale. Naturally, the Orc came to strike again but his body suddenly halted.
Other Orcs was confused by the sight of the other Orc halting in his attack unnaturally.
It was then that the figure turned around.
"Don't misunderstand, I meant it as a compliment" the black hooded figure said as he threw the wooden cup to the side. "After all, in my time, Orcs never used their heads. So I find it quite amusing that animals like you can actually create something like this ale"
Looking at the other Orcs with his feline eyes, the figure smiled devilishly.
"Be thankful that I praise your creation, it might save your lives" the figure added hauntingly.
Following that, the Orc's body beside him splashed into a thousand pieces.
Nobody expected the Orc to explode just like that, and more than that, they couldn't see what the figure did to that Orc and caused his body to explode like that. It took a moment for the onlookers to realize what was happening.
Only when a loud feminine scream resounded that they snapped out of their trance.
"Kyaaaahh!!"
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