Ogre Tyrant

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 32 – One must fall – Part Two

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 32 - One must fall - Part Two

The new dawn had brought two new faces to Stone Well. Apparently having arrived in Sanctuary slightly too late to accompany the Goblins and Serpent-Kin, Captain Gaile and Sergeant Drake had been forced to wait for the Stone Well gateway to recharge and accompany the scheduled delivery of relief supplies.

Sergeant Drake looked to be around fifty or sixty years old, although he showed no signs of letting it slow him down. Relatively short, Drake had a robust wide frame and ropy muscles. Armed and armoured as a rank and file soldier, bearing a shield, spear and shortsword in reserve, the Sergeant was also carrying a large pack practically stuffed full of additional equipment and supplies. The most defining feature of the grizzled old Sergeant was the claw-like scars running down his top lip to the bottom of his chin.

“SIR!” Sergeant Drake snapped a crisp salute and stood at attention once he became aware of my approach.

Alerted by the Sergeant’s cry, Captain Gaile left her own pack on the bench where she had been rearranging its contents and turned about-face to deliver a salute of her own. Although less fervent than Drake, Gaile’s salute had been accompanied by a great deal more curiosity.

Looking to be about forty, Captain Gaile was just about Sergeant Drake’s opposite. She was tall but incredibly lean, almost willowy and perhaps would be without her layers of armour. The only thing the pair had in common was that their hair was clipped short like most other Asrusian soldiers. Scouts like Kestrel and Rooke seemed to be allowed to grow their hair long or were otherwise less motivated in keeping it so.

Like Sergeant Drake, Gaile also carried a spear and had a shortsword as a backup weapon. However, Gaile’s spear was longer and the shaft was thicker, suggesting that it was intended for more distant engagement and being exclusively wielded two-handed.

Both officers had already been promoted to Underlords in preparation for promotion to Overseer. It was a smart move on the part of whoever had made the decision. With their Leadership Classes already active, they wouldn’t waste Exp that otherwise would have gone towards their previous Classes.

A quick inspection revealed they were both level three, something that would change very quickly in the ongoing conflict. Recognising the Sergeant’s Warden Class I almost skipped checking his Class Abilities since I had already seen them before on Lash. Against my better judgement, I spared a moment to check anyway and was profoundly surprised to see that the Retribution Ability had been replaced by Cohesion, an Ability I had not seen yet.

[(Class Ability: Cohesion): {Group} members within range fight with increased awareness of one another's actions regardless of mundane and magical obstructions. {Presence} increases the range of the effect.]

Captain Gaile’s Human Commander Class was a little more interesting. The absence of the Eminence Ability was an interesting development but not unique. On the whole, the Human Commander Class seemed relatively straightforward, and Gaile’s high Presence made the Abilities even more effective.

[(Class Ability: Commander’s Banner): Requires a suitable object to serve as a banner. The effect will end if the banner falls or is claimed by an enemy. The Commander’s Banner grants {Allies} additional Toughness while within range. Maximum number of {Banners} is determined by {Presence} (0:5)]

[(Class Ability: Field Promotion): {Faction} members within range can be awarded one or more {Class Abilities}. Maximum number of {Class Abilities} is determined by {Presence} (0:5).]

[(Class Ability: Brace!): Expend MP to empower nearby {Group} members to deal additional damage based on the enemy’s momentum. {Presence} increases the range and damage of the effect.]

[(Class Ability: Charge!): Expend MP to empower nearby {Group} members with additional momentum. {Presence} increases the range and momentum of the effect.]

“I would prefer to keep things informal outside of official duties,” I waved them both down and waited for them to return to a more casual stance. “I wasn’t expecting you both until we were ready to move on to the fifth floor,” I explained curiously, “What changed?”

“I felt it would be best to make ourselves useful,” Captain Gaile replied crisply, “If we are going to work together Sir, I believe it would be best if we were more familiar with one another’s capabilities.”

Sergeant Drake nodded, “We had orders to provide support, Sir,” he agreed in a gravelly tone, “If we get in the way, just know you can tell us where to go, Sir.”

Gaile briefly scowled at Drake’s final remark, suggesting that it was perhaps a form of military slang.

“Well, as I said, I prefer to keep things casual. While accompanying me, your rank does not entitle you to command others. You are all warriors and nothing more without my endorsement otherwise. Understood?” I demanded sternly. The last thing I wanted was for the officers to cause problems trying to assert and pull rank on one another and the locals.

Gaile and Drake both nodded solemnly.

“In my absence, Osa commands this floor. He is an Overseer and capable of stripping your titles, so be respectful,” I insisted, “However, Osa lacks knowledge of sophisticated military tactics and has limited experience deploying large numbers of warriors. I want you to seek overseer Osa out in the staging grounds below the mesa and provide what advice you can in order to prepare for the Iron Hills tribe’s next assault.”

“Sir!” Both officers snapped salutes and after gathering their belongings headed for the elevator.

Slowly following along behind them, I planned on spending most of my day helping to construct the second elevator.

The Slavers wagons had been excavated from the moat during the night and repurposed mostly towards providing improvised mobile cover that could be deployed if the Iron Hills used slingers of their own. The most intact wagons had been set aside to serve as the cabs for the new elevators.

Mostly participating in a supervisory role, I was able to direct the work efficiently enough to have the second elevator completed by the early afternoon. Since no boars had been donated, I had to improvise a primitive locking mechanism that would hold the elevator in place while fully raised. Otherwise, the elevator was entirely reliant on manpower to raise and lower the second elevator.

Still very much preferring to use the first elevator, I descended to the staging grounds to review the scout reports. Somewhat unsurprisingly, a dense hedge of thorny briars now encircled the inner ring of the moat. Only a few feet tall, it was obviously intended to serve as an improvised source of cover and to disrupt enemy crossings.

The land bridge had been removed and was replaced by a gatehouse tree that had been grown over the nearest side of the moat and a makeshift drawbridge that could be lowered to allow access across the moat. The planks for the drawbridge had been recycled from a deconstructed wagon bed and were liberally lashed together by thick ropes.

The gatehouse wasn’t the only tree being grown beside the moat. From my vantage on the elevator, I could see at least four others roughly spaced along the moat to serve as watchtowers. I could also feel both Mors’ and Qreet’s mana emanating from beyond my line of sight, so there were likely more trees or other developments being made.

Reaching the bottom of the elevator, I made my way to Osa’s command tent and was surprised for the second time upon finding a number of maps now hanging from the tent walls and draped over a makeshift table. The maps were admittedly quite crude, but they were of a much larger scale than Kestrel’s and focused on the immediate area surrounding Stone Well and the rocky shelf the Iron Hills tribe was taking refuge in.

Assuming that the crude tokens made from carved wood or coloured stones arrayed on the map on the table were likely to depict troop locations, it was curious to see how securely hemmed in the iron Hills appeared to be.

“Overlord!” Osa smiled nervously and made his way around the table, “Iss there something I can do for you?”

Alongside Osa’s Lieutenants were Gaile and Drake. The Human officers had been quietly discussing something when I entered but had now grown silent alongside the others.

“Are there any signs of what the Iron Hills tribe are up to?” I asked bluntly.

Osa shook his head, “Sscoutss report only minimal efforts at defencsess, and enemy scouts die before they can be quesstioned.”

“They are using the Soulless as scouts?” I asked if only to confirm my assumptions.

Osa nodded.

“Urgent news!” Kestrel called out from a short distance away, a slight strain in her voice lending credence to her sense of urgency.

Opening the tent flaps, I found Kestrel dismounting her weirdly named bird and dragging off a bound prisoner.

Contrary to my expectations, Kestrel’s prisoner was a Variant. Thoroughly bound and gagged, the Mountain Orc could do nothing but cower in fear as he looked into the faces of the angry warriors gathering nearby.

Grabbing the prisoner by a rope handhold, I dragged him into the tent. After allowing Kestrel into the tent, I gave the warriors outside a displeased glare as a warning before closing the tent flaps. Depositing the prisoner against one of the large beams holding up the tent, I motioned to Kestrel to handle the rest.

Kestrel nodded and set about securely tying the prisoner to the beam. Once she was finished, Kestrel pulled out the prisoner’s gag, “Speak!” She commanded and lowered her right hand slowly towards her backup knife.

The Mountain Orc blanched, “No hurt! Bring message!” The Orc pleaded, “Gargant send message!” He looked insistently down at his rough vest and sash belt.

Without needing to be asked, Kestrel knelt down and patted the Orc down before reaching into his sash and pulling out a crumpled roll of paper. Unrolling the paper, Kestrel quickly scanned the contents before laying it out on the table. “It seems Gargant had one of his Guild prisoners write the message. There is a plea for help from the writer in the corner.”

“What does he want?” I asked sceptically. Best I could guess, Gargant was going to try and leverage his Slaves for some sort of benefit or ceasefire.

Kestrel cleared her throat and quickly read through the message again. “Gargant, undisputed Chief of Iron Hills tribe, offers greetings, great Chief of Stone Well. Strength is wasted in this conflict. Withdraw your warriors, and Gargant will leave your lands. Gargant offers Slaves and females as price. That’s all for that message,” she added before turning her attention to the second message scribbled in the corner. “Please! I beg of you! By all that is good and by all the gods! I don’t want to… And it cuts off there,” Kestrel explained with a grimace.

Drake and Gaile had similar expressions of disgust, but they quickly suppressed them.

I turned my attention to our prisoner, “Which Slaves is Gargant offering?” I asked with a stern expression.

The prisoner gulped, “Gargant have many Slaves. Give Chief many females!” He didn’t seem to understand the question and was just ad libbing from the message.

“Thiss iss a trap,” Osa declared dourly, “Gargant jusst wantss to lure you out! Ensslave you, Overlord!”

That seemed about right. I turned my attention to the bound messenger, “Will Gargant be making this trade himself?”

The messenger trembled and shrugged uncertainly, too scared to speak.

I took a couple of minutes to think things over before coming to a decision and turning my attention back to the messenger, “Tell your master Gargant that I will meet with him.” I expected this to be a trap of some kind, but it also presented an opportunity to eliminate the Iron Hills tribe’s leader. I wouldn’t be surprised if Gargant planned on challenging me for leadership of Stone Well, because I was planning on challenging him myself anyway.

Motioning for Kestrel to take the messenger away, I waited until they were well and truly gone before answering the questioning stares of those who remained. “He will try to kill me, I know that,” I admitted aloud, “The only real question is whether he will attempt it through a challenge for my position, or by ambush. In either case, this is an opportunity to deal with the Iron Hills threat for good. Either way, Gargant will die and the Iron Hills tribe will be left at our mercy.”

Osa nodded in understanding, but he still seemed incredibly nervous.

Gaile seemed much more reserved, “That you are so confident in victory, might be part of this, Gargant’s, trap,” she warned thoughtfully.

“I know,” I agreed, “He is up to something, and all I am sure of is the intended outcome.” I looked to Gaile and Drake for their opinions on the matter, a test of their commitment to my cause.

Drake nodded slowly in agreement, “It is definitely a trap, Sir. But this could work to our advantage,” he looked to Gaile to elaborate, apparently trusting her judgement

Gaile remained quiet for a few moments before nodding in agreement, “The potential gains justify the risks. Attending the negotiations on suitable mounts would be the best means of limiting the risk of being caught in an ambush. In a worst-case scenario, the scouts will be able to provide limited support as well as provide early warning of enemy troop movements. So long as your bodyguards can be trusted, the risks to your person should be quite low.”

”Are you confident of this?” I asked somewhat sceptically, wanting to provoke the Captain a little and test her mettle.

Gaile was quiet and contemplative for a few moments before she met my eyes and nodded determinedly, “As much as I can be with the information provided.” It sounded somewhat like the groundwork for an excuse for if things went wrong, but I had the impression that Gaile was only being honest.

“Alright,” I drummed my fingers on the table and carefully regarded the map, “Gargant, if he attends this meeting in person, will likely have bodyguards of his own. Perhaps even an entire band of Slaves intended to masquerade as part of a good faith ‘payment’ while actually serving as an ambush force…” I wrinkled my brow and tried to make a decision on who I would bring to the meeting.

Osa was out of the question. He was too important for maintaining order in Stone Well. There were a few Warriors that had gained a number of levels in the tournament, but in all likelihood, Gargant’s Taskmasters would be much higher level. Adding to the fact that the Mountain Orcs seemed to be broader and taller than the Desert Orcs, I didn’t particularly like the idea of such a one-sided showing. But then I had another idea.

Gargant would almost certainly look down on humans after enslaving them so easily, and there was no reason for him to be aware of the difference between the monsterfied Humans and those already enslaved. Dhizi would certainly be a welcome addition regardless, which meant bringing Clarice anyway. So why not deliberately tempt Gargant’s machinations with a seemingly weak showing?

“Drake, Gaile, Clarice and Kestrel will serve as myattending bodyguards,” I stated calmly, “If Gargant is planning a trap, he will likely be overconfident after confirming that I am being escorted by ‘humans’,” I air quoted the word to emphasize my meaning.

Osa’s expression immediately reflected his conflicted emotions, but he remained silent.

“We aint got the levels to compensate for much yet, Sir,” Drake advised somewhat cagily, although there was a burning gleam in his eyes that belied a fierce eagerness for the challenge.

“Synergies should help level the playing field, so to speak,” Gaile countered thoughtfully while tapping her chin, “yes, this could work quite well,” she agreed, “The Slaver and Taskmaster Classes are not offensively focused beyond the scope of acquiring and punishing Slaves. So the primary obstacle is the difference in raw physical ability, and they are not so high a tiered monster to have become impervious to skilled counters.”

Drake grunted in agreement.

Clarice wasn’t hard to find. After hearing of the captured prisoner, she had taken a vigil outside in the shade of a nearby tent.

Securing mounts for Drake and Gaile was more difficult and time-consuming. Where just about any of the warriors were eager to allow me to borrow a Hulking Boar for my own use, they were far more leary and downright mutinous over lending them to a Human. In the end, I settled on a compromise, borrowing two Hulking Boars and hitching them to a stripped-down wagon. The owners of the boars weren’t thrilled, but they would have their mounts back by late evening at the latest anyway.

Before setting out, I changed my mind and decided to have Nadine join us as well. There was always the off chance someone would be badly injured, and early treatment of the wounds could make the difference between life and death.

“You are sure about this, right?” Nadine called out from behind Clarice.

“As much as I can be,” I called back and made an effort not to shrug.

We were all dressed for battle and steadily approaching the scouts established perimeter. The general idea was that Gargant’s own scouts would spot our incursion and relay that information to their master.

“Shouldn’t talk,” Clarice warned seriously, “Could bite your tongue!”

Nadine frowned but held her tongue.

Unlike riding a horse, which would jostle the rider up and down, Dhizi predominantly swayed side to side because of her scrambling gait. The direction of the momentum was different, but I could still imagine someone biting their tongue if they weren’t careful.

Drake had insisted upon driving the wagon, so that left Gaile and I sitting in the bed of the wagon and staring off to the west and east respectively. The Sergeant seemed to enjoy the implacable, yet comparatively slow march of the boars. I made a mental note to try and make sure he would receive one of the tamed boars from the Iron Hills tribe after we defeated Gargant.

However, Gaile didn’t seem particularly impressed by the boars at all. In fact, she seemed somewhat queasy and was staring at a fixed point over my shoulder. I could only assume Captain Gaile was experiencing motion sickness, which was something of a surprise given her high rank in the Asrusian military. Historical dramas had me convinced that senior officers would be required to be proficient in riding in order to oversee their troops on the battlefield, so it was somewhat jarring to reconcile with.

As we approached the approximate perimeter maintained by Stone Well’s scouts, Kestrel joined our procession.

“They haven’t sent out anyone since the messenger was taken,” Kestrel reported tensely, “They are definitely up to something.”

“We figured as much,” I agreed and cast a wary eye towards the rocky shelf in the distance, “For all we know, this meeting might be a ploy to allow his forces to break out and assault Stone Well in our absence. But I still think that Gargant is trying to lure me out specifically…” It was a feeling that had grown since leaving the command tent. So far as I knew, Gargant had no true confirmations of my personal strength or intelligence, so it was entirely possible he was plotting under the assumption I was a brutish and stupid Ogre. I had to keep reminding myself not to underestimate him in turn, which only served to justify my mounting paranoia.

There was one thing I was certain of, Gargant was a Slave Master. Somehow the chief of the Iron Hills tribe had acquired the means of Enslaving others and unlocked the Slaver Class. He had then spread it amongst his people and accumulated enough Slaves to unlock the Master tier Class. The only clues I had regarding the Class Abilities of the Slave Master came from the two Abilities that had accompanied transitioning to the Ogre Slave-Breaker Leadership Class.

With that in mind, I assumed Gargant would specialize in massed assaults involving hordes of Slaves under his personal control. Or perhaps have lessened requirements or greater proficiency in Enslaving his targets. In all likelihood, it could even be both. I just had no way of knowing for certain.

“Is there a plan?” Kestrel asked optimistically.

Clarice snickered and adjusted her helmet but otherwise made no comment.

Kestrel sighed dejectedly and warily eyed the surrounding area.

I dismounted the wagon and Gaile followed shortly afterwards, breathing a nearly imperceptible sigh of relief as her feet made contact with the ground.

While we waited for some response to our presence, Nadine made sure everyone drank regularly to avoid overheating in their armour.

After waiting for about an hour, a small procession left the shelter of the rocky shelf and began heading in our direction.

“It’s Gargant,” Kestrel confirmed while looking through her spyglass, “And there are three other large Orcs with him besides.”

“Variants?” I asked, assuming it to be the case but wanting to be sure.

Kestrel frowned, “I think so?” She replied uncertainly, “It’s hard to tell. They all have a similar build and are wearing the same Iron Hills clothing.”

I sighed and decided not to make a big deal out of it. This was my idea, and besides, the silk head wraps and general clothing of the Orcs on this floor made it difficult to tell people apart I was already familiar with, so I couldn’t blame Kestrel for not being able to differentiate three strangers at this distance.

As they drew closer, it was impossible not to notice Gargant’s confidence. He alone sat astride a Hulking Boar while the three other Orcs followed behind him in a short ragged line. Gargant was taking his time, seemingly unconcerned by his earlier request to be allowed to leave in peace and now attempting to establish dominance through delaying our meeting as much as possible. This only further raised my suspicions regarding his motives, and I found I wasn’t the only one furtively checking the nearby surroundings for signs of a trap.

The fact that we had chosen the meeting ground was not as comforting as it should have been in the circumstances. The longer I watched Gargant, the more certain I became that he was deliberately delaying in order to allow for an unseen ally to move into position. Yet the only signs of movement on the horizon came from our own fast-moving scouts.

Dhizi gave the first warning, suddenly growing anxious and shifting her footing.

Feeling a faint vibration coming from the ground beneath my bare feet, I pulled out my club without hesitating. “FROM BELOW!” I roared.

The ground in front of the Hulking Boars erupted in a cascade of sand, dirt and stones, partially concealing the giant armoured lizard’s maw that darted forward to bite the boars.

Unfortunately for the giant lizard, the boars knew no fear and leapt forward in a counter-charge of their own, tusks and teeth ripping viciously into the lizard’s neck and jaw.

Bleeding profusely and stunned by the onslaught, the lizard reacted too slowly to defend itself and was quickly savaged into submission. However, two more giant lizards, each as large as the Hulking Boars, clambered over their shuddering kin to take their turn at pressing the attack.

Still seated on the wagon, Drake drove his spear into one of the lizard’s eyes, buying the left boar enough time to counter-attack.

A flash of mana from Gaile washed over our party and I felt an energizing effect settle into my body. Leaping forward, I brought my club crashing down the rightmost lizard’s neck.

*Crack*

The thick armoured scales cracked and shattered beneath the force of the blow while the giant lizard spasmed.

Feeling a number of familiar presences on the periphery of my senses, I brought my full will bearing down on them.

Gargant’s procession came to an abrupt halt as an intense pain took hold of my mind. Gargant had brought slaves for his ambush, and they seemed to be under his personal control.

As the pain settled on my mind, I stepped back towards the relative safety of the group.

While our battle of wills continued, another giant lizard climbed out of the hole and into the ongoing melee.

All at once, the pressure and pain in my mind evaporated and ten Slaves entered my control. Momentarily unbalanced, I sent a mental command demanding the Slaves halt their attack.

The giant lizards immediately grew still, providing only token ineffectual resistance to Drake and the pair of boar’s attacks.

<Leave the hole. Bring your Tamed Beasts.> I sent a second more coherent command.

Sections of ground on our other flanks gave way to more giant lizards that meekly grouped a short distance away. Shortly afterwards, disheveled human men and women climbed out of the holes. Their clothes were torn and filthy, and there was a telling haunted look in their eyes.

Not even waiting to confirm if it was safe to do so, Nadine hurriedly dismounted Dhizi and rushed towards the closest group so she could provide them aid.

<Form a line before her. Make no attempts to harm her, or else.> The mental command was immediately followed and saw the humans wordlessly scurry to obey.

Gargant had renewed his approach, only now he seemed far more eager to attend our meeting and was moving quite quickly with his accompanying entourage. They stopped a short distance away and Gargant continued the approach alone.

Fairly certain I understood how this was going to go, I made my way forward in order to meet him halfway. Something was wrong, different than what I had expected, and as we drew closer to one another I soon realized what it was. Gargant made no signs of hiding it and even gave a small surprised reaction when he noticed the focus of my attention.

We both came to a halt with less than five feet of ground left between us.

Gargant was large by Orc standards, but he was still a half-head shorter than me, and that seemed to irk him somewhat.

“So…” I pointed to the thick iron shackle clasped around Gargant’s right hand, “How long have you been a slave?”

The skin around Gargant’s eyes wrinkled and I had the impression he was grimacing beneath his face covering, “Years…” Gargant’s voice sounded far older than I had expected given his otherwise comparatively youthful appearance, but I understood that being bound to someone's will would do that to you. Gargant narrowed his eyes at me, perhaps because of my own reaction to his voice, “Pity the weak,” he spat, “I am no innocent in this! A choice was given, a bargain struck…”

I had already determined as much. Gargant might be someone’s pet, but he hadn’t given the impression of being remorseful over his actions. There was every chance that he had gone above and beyond what his master expected and demanded of him.

“Why did you want to meet?” I asked, fairly certain I knew who we would find holding Gargant’s leash.

Gargant remained silent for a moment. “To kill you,” he replied honestly, “Or be killed by you…” There was a hint of regret in Gargant’s voice, perhaps because he understood the raw power difference between us, or for other reasons I could only guess at. “You broke free, they didn’t like that,” Gargant continued, a faint tone of jealousy in his voice, “They want you dead before you cause more trouble, disrupt their grand design.” Blood began staining Gargant’s veil and he paused to touch it with his fingers before grunting and falling silent.

“With your ambush having failed, I guess that only leaves us one option, doesn't it?” I tightened my grip on my club and stretched my neck.

Gargant nodded but raised a hand to stall any further action. Curiously, he seemed to angle the action deliberately to avoid his entourage from seeing. “They serve my master as well,” Gargant explained, “Should they survive, one will be chosen to replace me.”

I felt no signs of domination from the trio of Orcs, “They aren’t Slaves?” I questioned suspiciously.

Gargant chuckled dryly, “Not bound by magic, but by greed,” he clarified, “Few of my people are truly Enslaved by the Labyrinth’s magic, but many succumbed to the temptation of power as I did…”

“So, this is a suicide run?” I asked warily, “You lead your prime rivals out to fight me and just assume I won’t show mercy and allow them to live?”

“You wouldn’t!” Gargant snickered contemptuously, “I see it in your eyes, we disgust you. Don’t try to deny it.” He was right, so I didn’t. “I do this…I am making it easy for you, because I want something in return…” Gargant’s voice had gone deathly quiet, “The innocent amongst my people…You will spare them,” it wasn’t a question, sounding far more like a threat than anything else.

“Only the Slavers and the truly deserving will die,” I agreed, having already come to that decision long before our meeting in person.

Gargant stared intensely into my eyes and seemed satisfied by my genuine sincerity. “Yet their suffering has only begun…” He grunted grimly and slowly drew a large curved blade from his hip.

“Your sins won’t be theirs,” I insisted, “The genuinely innocent will leave this place with me and be given another chance at life.”

Gargant’s eyes opened wide in surprise.

“I know the nomads and villagers of Stone Well want blood. So they will have it from the guilty,” I explained while limbering up for our now imminent confrontation, “The only way to give the innocent a future free of vengeance fueled reprisal is to take them away from here to begin anew somewhere else.”

“Ahahahaha!” Gargant’s dry throaty laugh put his own followers as well as mine on edge, prompting them to draw weapons of their own. “Such an idealist…” The subtle hint of remorse in his tone was genuinely surprising.

“If you want to repay me for my generosity, there is something you can do for me,” I suggested and issued a quest to my own group.

Gargant narrowed his eyes suspiciously for a moment before relaxing, “Name it,” he agreed.

“Your rivals against my escort, while you and I fight one on one,” I offered.

Gargant seemed surprised, but he nodded in agreement anyway before turning to his rivals, “THIS FILTH HAS CHALLENGED OUR HONOR!” Gargant roared with feigned incredulity, “I WILL FIGHT HIM ALONE! YOU WILL FIGHT HIS COWERING MINIONS!”

“RAGH!!!” Gargant’s trio of rivals drew their weapons and charged.

Thankfully, the quest had already alerted the others of my intentions, so they were not caught unawares.

*Swoosh*

I backstepped to avoid the scything arc of Gargant’s blade and then swung my club in from the right to try and catch his arm as he brought it back for another strike.

*Tak*

Gargant sidestepped and caught my club against his blade.

We pressed our weapons against each other for a moment, each testing the other’s strength before stepping back.

Feeling another surge of energy in my limbs, I leapt forward and brought my club crashing down towards Gargant’s left shoulder.

*Tak THUMP*

Gargant stepped to the side, redirecting my club and preparing a counter-strike of his own, but my left fist crashed into his chest and sent him reeling.

Wheezing and coughing, Gargant’s veil was spattered with fresh blood. “Underhanded…” He croaked gleefully, “Not…As…Stupid as…You…Look…” He shakily brought his blade back up into a guard stance in preparation for receiving my next attack

As I had figured, Gargant’s Class had improved his mental faculties, but done little to improve his physical abilities. Very likely, Gargant was only benefiting from increased HP.

A quick glance towards the others revealed that they seemed to have their fight well in hand. One of the Orcs was already as good as dead, being shaken this way and that by Dhizi and spraying blood over the dry ground.

Seeing no reason to prolong my own fight against Gargant, I channeled a small amount of mana into my club and hoped Mors’ craftsmanship would stop it from breaking as the morningstar had done.

Likely sensing something was different, Gargant shifted from his defensive stance and held his blade high over his head with both hands. Before I could charge, Gargant rushed at me instead.

*BOOM twang*

I used one hand on either end of the bat to block the overhead strike, and as the weapons connected Gargant’s blade shattered on impact. Four inches of the blade shattered into tiny pieces and flew back into Gargant’s face while the topmost section of the blade ricocheted off my helmet and the blade still remaining on the hill scraped down the front of my chest armour.

Gargant staggered backwards in a daze, the hilt of his destroyed weapon slipping from his fingers and landing in the dirt. Blood was running freely down Gargant’s front, staining his clothes a deep crimson. Shaking his head, Gargant gurgled something incomprehensible and raised his fists before slowly staggering forward.

Dropping my bat, I raised my fists and moved to meet him halfway.

*Thump, Crack, Whump, Crunch, Crunch, Crack, Crunch”

Releasing a flurry of attacks, I ignored Gargant’s own feeble attacks and pressed for the kill, wanting it to be over with while my blood was up, afraid I would lack the nerve if I allowed the adrenaline rush to end. Driving Gargant to the ground, I straddled his body and bludgeoned his head into a bloody ruin.

Still somehow alive, Gargant gurgled something from his shattered jaw and mouth full of broken teeth before growing still.

[You have slain {Primeval Mountain Orc Drudge: 5 } +4000 Exp]

[{Optional Quest} Slay Iron Hills Chief Gargant: {Complete} +300,000 Exp]

A bright flash of light emanated from my body and I somewhat absently noted that my MP had increased by another point.

[Dhizi has slain {Primeval Mountain Orc Runt: 5 } +3500 Exp]

The ragged and bloody torso of a Mountain Orc landed nearby, the intestines trailing along the severed spinal column and mingling with the dirt.

Getting to my feet, I watched as Clarice pressed Dhizi into the fight against the remaining Orcs, driving her spear into the back of an Orc right as it was preparing an overhead strike against Drake.

Kestrel was aiming and firing an arrow every other second, rendering the Orc already driven back by Gaile exhausted as he struggled to deflect the lethal projectiles and failed as often as not.

With a sudden surge of speed, Gaile drove the head of her spear through the harried Orc’s eye socket and into his brain. Just as quickly, she twisted the spear and yanked it free of the Orc’s skull while gaining as much distance from his collapsing body as possible.

[Gaile has slain {Primeval Mountain Orc Runt: 5 } +3500 Exp]

“AAAERGH!” The final Orc screamed in pain and surprise as Dhizi bit down on his lower left leg and pulled away leaving only the exposed end of the thigh bone and a rapidly exsanguinating ragged chunk of flesh behind. Falling to the ground, the Orc shuddered briefly before growing deathly still.

[Dhizi has slain {Primeval Mountain Orc Runt: 5 } +3500 Exp]

[{Optional Quest} Slay Iron Hills Leadership: {Complete}]

Averted my eyes just in time, I saw the bright flashes of golden light emanating from the others as they received their Exp from completing the quest.

The fact that Dhizi had been instrumental in killing two of the three higher evolved Mountain Orcs reinforced my suspicions that she was likely much closer to my own tier of evolution than the Orcs. This was interesting because the evolved state of Gargant and his intended successors meant they were at least tier five monsters themselves.

However, before I could think about it in more detail, Kestrel hurried to my side and anxiously motioned for my attention. “There is a commotion over at the Iron Hills camp! We need to assert your position as their new leader before the hostages get caught up in the violence!”

Not feeling up to the effort of talking right now, I nodded and began dragging the body of Gargant and the severed torso to the wagon.

Following my lead, Gaile and Drake loaded the other two corpses. After loading the corpses, Drake returned to his position driving the wagon while Gaile pulled back to Nadine and the Slaves we had already recovered. Understanding that she was intending to serve as Nadine’s escort back to Stone Well, I made no complaint.

After loading the two corpses into the wagon, I decided to claim Gargant’s former Hulking Boar mount for myself.

Leaving Nadine and Gaile behind, Drake, Kestrel, Clarice and myself raced towards the Iron Hill’s camp as fast as the wagon would allow. Without the bodies of Gargant and his intended successors, our sudden appearance would likely spark an escalation to whatever was happening inside of the camp, so despite the cries on the wind, we continued matching pace with the wagon.

Even from a distance, I could see the camp was in a state of chaos, although it seemed oddly restricted to the westmost side of the camp. My best guess was that Gargant’s personally controlled Slaves were running amock and getting revenge as best they were able. As justified as their revenge may be, I wouldn’t hesitate to put any of the Soulless down if they attempted harm on the women and children.

As we approached the southern edge of the camp there was no immediate sign of any guards. A crude wall of wagons was the only obstacle to our entry, and it took very little effort to push a couple out of alignment and enter. The inside of the encampment was a maze of tents and haphazardly aligned paths into the interior.

Following the paths northward, I took the lead position while Kestrel and Clarice took the rear. The chaos from the west sounded like it was headed east now and I could hear panicked shouting from up ahead of us.

The tents gave way to a large clearing and a frightened crowd of female Orcs and their children rushing into what looked like a large cave that was being protected by a small number of Variant males and a larger number of Soulless Slaves. There was currently no sign of the human Slaves, so I decided now would be as good a time as any to announce our presence and bring an end to the chaos…

*****

Franklin tightly held the large gash in his arm and tried not to faint. However, days of starvation and dehydration while traversing the blighted and collapsed ruin of the fourth floor had left him weak and barely capable of following the orders of his captors. Only the pain had kept Franklin moving, pushing him beyond what he had thought himself capable of.

The brutal infighting amongst the Orcs had come to a sudden and abrupt halt. The apparent cause was the arrival of a truly terrifyingly large hulking brute that put the savage Orc’s leader to shame. With a single word the bloody melee had seemingly frozen in time, and for the first time in days, Franklin felt the shackles on his mind loosen.

A small number of the Orc Slaves were unaffected, their masters more than likely dead or otherwise incapacitated. One amongst their number shouted something in challenge, stepping up before the armoured brute. There had been a deafening thunderclap, a strong rush of moist air, and when Franklin opened his eyes, the challenger was gone, replaced by glistening chunks of bloody bones and meat.

Feeling a surprisingly gentle yet firm command take form in his mind, Franklin obeyed without thinking, turning back to the centre of the camp and following the other Slaves.

Already struggling to comprehend what was happening, the sight of armoured human soldiers almost had Franklin convinced he was hallucinating, causing him to instinctively flinch in anticipation of disobeying his master’s commands from leaving his post. But the expected pain didn’t come.

Instead, a gruff-looking soldier bound Franklin’s arm and then loaded him into one of the slave wagons with a shade awning, a privilege he had not enjoyed since his enslavement.

Franklin was joined by other enslaved Guild officials and adventurers. He could see the same confusion and bewilderment he was feeling reflected in their eyes.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the wagon began to move.

Watching the camp disappear behind them, Franklin could only assume the wagon was headed south.

Another command woke Franklin from his dazed state. The wagon had come to a halt. Obeying the command, Franklin stiffly left the cover of the wagon and lined up alongside the other Slaves. Finding himself in another tent city, Franklin was almost convinced that he was hallucinating. Despite the presence of Orcs amidst the tents, the Orcs themselves were noticeably different. More slight and a full foot shorter, it was the bright blue eyes that gave them away as the Desert Orc subspecies. Seeing the hatred and contempt in their eyes, Franklin felt a fresh wave of fear settle on his soul.

It made sense now. They were not being rescued, only acquired to serve new Masters.

Franklin wasn’t the only one to come to this realization. He could hear other Slaves dryly sobbing amidst the growing crowd emptying from the wagons.

A young woman had begun walking amongst them, trailed by scaly humanoid monsters Franklin was not familiar with. They were handing out small scraps of food and what looked like cups with small amounts of water.

What Franklin did not understand was the continued presence of the soldiers and the role this young woman played in all of this. Was the kingdom finally making its move and purging the Guild from the Labyrinth? Selling them off into slavery to the Variants to cover their tracks?

“Here,” the young woman pressed the clay cup into Franklin’s hand and made sure to wrap his fingers around it securely before doing the same with a piece of smoked meat in his other hand. “Take small sips only, try to count to a hundred in between sips to give your body a chance to adjust. The same goes for the meat, just take small bites. More food and water will be available once your body has a chance to recover.” Then just like that, she moved on to someone else.

Feeling the same gentle compulsion in his mind, Franklin took a trembling sip of water from the cup. Contrary to his expectations, the water was not foul or warm but was instead crisp and cool, tasting far better than the reserves they had kept in the foothold. The smoked meat was nothing special, but after going without food for three straight days it certainly placed the true value of the meal into perspective.

Having been given the same advice as Franklin, and compelled to obey by the compulsion in their minds, some Slaves had begun whispering to themselves, counting down until they could take their next sip of water or bite of meat.

While whispering his own countdown, Franklin nearly lost his count when the hulking armoured figure came into view and began speaking with the soldiers. Slightly recovered from the precious fluids now circulating through his body, Franklin realized he had been mistaken. The soldiers were not rank and file as he had assumed they would be, they were officers. The implications of that difference almost stole Franklin’s appetite.

As if able to sense his thoughts, the armoured brute turned his attention towards Franklin and pointed him out amidst the crowd.

Immediately feeling a compulsion to obey, Franklin whimpered as he stiffly shuffled towards the blood-spattered brute.

“He knows something,” the brute growled, sending fresh waves of panic down Franklin’s spine and terrifying his empty bladder.

“How do you wish to proceed?” The tall female officer asked callously, seemingly quite content with Franklin’s Enslaved state.

The brute was quiet for a few moments. “Take him into Stone Well and take turns keeping watch on him. I’ll send Nadine or one of the Surgeons to take a closer look at him soon.”

Confused, Franklin stiffly walked between the two officers as they escorted him into a terrifyingly ramshackle looking wagon. Unsure of what to expect, Franklin was nearly frightened out of his wits when the wagon’s frame creaked and groaned momentarily before carrying them up into the sky.

The shorter stocky looking officer held a firm grip on Franklin’s arm to keep him upright, “Takes getting used to,” he chuckled.

“Wh-what is…going to…h-happen to me?” Franklin croaked, his withered throat still unused to forming words.

The officers shared a bemused look with one another before turning their attending back to Franklin again.

“That’s easy, aint it?” The stocky officer answered unhelpfully.

“You are going to help explain what in the hells the Adventurers Guild was trying to accomplish by keeping its own pet Chief and instigating a cull amongst the Variants,” the lithe female officer elaborated with a grimace while resting a hand on her stomach.

As dry as his throat was already, it somehow managed to dry out further. Franklin felt a leaden weight take hold in his guts as the Orc village at the top of the mountain came into view. What little he knew, or could guess at already crossed the boundaries of treason. Knowing he would die if he tried to resist questions enforced by the compulsion, Franklin realized he was doomed after all. Either executed for his assumed complicity or succumbing to the mounting pain of the compulsion, Franklin would die either way. Given the limited options available, it made Franklin’s choice relatively simple. He just hoped that in being as forthcoming as possible that the interrogators would prove gentler than disobeying the compulsion.