13 Orc
[Name: Ren Arken
Age: 14
Race: Human
Strength: 30
Agility: 2000
Vitality: 200
Mana: ~~~
Spiritual: ~~~
Intellect: 1, 000
Unique Skills:
-magic cards -appraisal -evil gaze -strengthen -leap -basic magics -fire magic -illusion magic -water magic -light magic -nature magic]
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Magic beast.
Magic beast is a beast that contains a strong amount of mana at its body, by infusing the power of the mana with the internal organs of a beast, a magic beast is formed.
Magic beast has 10 steps of evolution. Each step has different difficulties.
A normal magic beast evolution chain:
Common --> Rare --> Baron --> Viscount --> Count --> Marquis --> Duke --> King --> Emperor --> Great Emperor
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The 4 of the Orcs who died got buried by the instructions from Oz, and Aegir. One of them is haven't dead yet when Oz came to the spot, the soldiers are afraid to give the finishing blow, seeing the suffering Orcs, even if they came to make some trouble, but Oz cannot bear seeing the suffering of the orc, so he gave the finishing blow with a sword from the guards, and he let the orc inhale his last breath.
[The host had killed an entity for the first time.]
[The host will be rewarded the card 'Orc Baron [Special]']
A handful of blue particles appeared and gather to one point. After some moments, the particles disappear and a card appeared.
[Orc Baron card [Special] [Develops]
level: 82
Strength: 10.000
Agility: 2.300
Vitality: 50.000
Mana: 3.000
Spiritual: 500
Skills: -strengthen -club dash -Leap -superhuman strength -Regeneration -Ignore pain -Taunt
Description: The card comprises the power of an Orc baron, the host could use its maximum power by fully equipping it and transforms to an Orc Baron, but the host could also half equip it and got to use 20% of its original status.
Equip
Yes/Half/No]
(Wow, setting aside the stats, the orc had a lot of benefitting skills.)
Oz retrieves the card back to his magic deck.
"Ren!" Aegir came while calling Oz.
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As dusk fell upon the tribe's encampment, they made the unanimous decision to confine the remaining Orc and retire for the night, saving their energy for the challenges that awaited them in the morrow.
As the golden rays of dawn painted the sky, Aegir rallied Oz and a group of tribal elders to convene with the captured Orc. They gathered at the spot where the Orc was held captive, prepared to extract answers from their enigmatic prisoner.
With his hands bound and feet restrained, the Orc named Magra stood before them, a picture of defiance and despair.
"What's your name, Orc?" Aegir's voice cut through the silence like a blade, icy and unyielding.
"Magra. Magra, son of Mardan," the Orc replied, his voice a gravelly whisper.
Aegir's demeanor shifted, his expression hardening as he pressed the Orc for answers.
"So, Magra, assailant of our humble tribe, what's your tale?" His tone was devoid of warmth, starkly contrasting the congeniality he had shown Oz previously.
Magra's eyes flickered with a myriad of emotions—sorrow, worry, hesitation, guilt, and a glimmer of hope. Intrigued by the turmoil within the Orc's gaze, Oz leaned in, eager to hear the story that lay beneath.
With a deep breath, Magra steeled himself to recount his harrowing tale.
"Demons," he began, his voice resonating with a haunting intensity.
Aegir arched an eyebrow in disbelief, prompting Magra to elaborate.
"Yes, demons," Magra asserted firmly. "The vile creatures we thought long banished have returned."
"They've resurfaced after a 2000-year absence," he continued, his words sending a ripple of shock through the assembled group.
"They've amassed an army greater than ever before, intent on recruiting all races save for mankind into their ranks," Magra declared, locking eyes with each member of the audience until his gaze settled on Oz.
The revelation sent murmurs rippling through the crowd, a cacophony of surprise, fear, and disbelief echoing in the air.
Sensing the need for order, Aegir raised a hand, silencing the chatter.
"Continue," he commanded, his voice steady despite the turmoil within.
"They came, those fiends, demanding our allegiance," Magra's voice trembled with indignation as he recounted the demons' ultimatum. "But we, proud Orcs, refused to bend the knee. We stood firm against their threats, vowing to protect our clan at any cost."
"Yet our pride proved to be our downfall," Magra's tone grew heavy with remorse. "We underestimated the demons' might, and they descended upon us like a tempest, leaving devastation in their wake. Hundreds of our kin perished in the onslaught."
"Now, only 400 of us remain," Magra continued, his words tinged with sorrow. "Our food stores pillaged, our future uncertain. We've sheltered the women, children, and youth, but our resources dwindle with each passing day."
"In desperation, we turned to plunder," Magra confessed, his voice laden with shame. "We set our sights on a nearby goblin tribe, hoping to replenish our supplies. But to our dismay, we were met with unexpected resistance. The very creatures we deemed inferior proved to be formidable adversaries."
"All blame rests upon my shoulders," Magra declared, tears welling in his eyes. "I led my brethren into folly, and I alone should bear the consequences."
Aegir exchanged a meaningful glance with Oz, who offered a silent nod of understanding.
"Fear not, Magra," Aegir reassured, a gentle smile playing upon his lips. "No lives were lost in your raid yesterday. I will confer with my peers before reaching a decision. Hold onto hope, for there may yet be a path to redemption."
With that, the goblins departed, leaving Magra to contemplate his fate.
Once alone, Oz approached the Orc, his voice a whisper of reassurance. "The tribe leader has a compassionate heart," he confided. "We may even send troops to ensure the safety of your clan."
Leaving Magra with a glimmer of hope, Oz departed, his words echoing in the Orc's mind.
---At Aegir's house---
"There's a possibility he's lying, we can't fully trust him," declared the military chief, Fedra, her voice tinged with skepticism.
"But we must remain vigilant in case the demon invasion is indeed imminent," added the defense chief, Ibra, his brow furrowed in concern.
"Tribe leader, I've noticed some unusual signs while out hunting. I fear the Orc's words may hold some truth," interjected the hunter chief, Brad, his expression grave.
Gasps filled the air as Brad's revelation sank in, casting a shadow of uncertainty over the gathering.
"Is that true, Brad?" inquired Aegir, his gaze piercing.
"By my father's name, Barry, I swear it's true," affirmed Brad, his features etched with solemnity.
With Brad's testimony, the conclusion of their discussion loomed before them. The reality of a looming demonic threat weighed heavily upon their shoulders, prompting all eyes to turn to Oz, the tribe's resident strategist and optimist.
"Tell us your thoughts, Ren," urged Aegir, a smile playing at his lips.
Oz, ever the beacon of confidence, opened his eyes to address the assembly.
"The demons gather their allies; why shouldn't we do the same?" began Oz, his voice steady and resolute. "We've successfully united numerous goblin tribes under our banner, overcoming many challenges along the way. My suggestion is simple: let us seek an alliance with the Orcs. Strength lies in unity, and together, we can forge a formidable coalition. By extending an olive branch to the Orcs, we may pave the way for a grand alliance that could sway other races to our cause."
Oz's words resonated with the group, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty.
"But can we truly join forces with the Orcs?" queried Aegir, his gaze probing.
"Back then, we lacked the strength we possess now," replied Oz with a mischievous grin.
A ripple of laughter swept through the assembly, lightening the somber mood.
"Heh, you're quite the cocky one, Ren," chuckled Aegir, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But I can't argue with your logic."
"It's true; with you on our side, our prospects look much brighter," agreed Brad, a smile tugging at his lips.
"You certainly know how to make an entrance," remarked Fedra, a glint of admiration in her eyes.
"It's settled then," declared Ibra, nodding in agreement. "We'll reach out to our potential allies."
With renewed determination, the group dispersed to deliver the news to their first ally candidate.
Meanwhile, at the prisoner's chamber, Magra awaited his fate, hoping against hope that the strange goblin's words held true.
The door creaked open, and the familiar faces of the goblins reappeared.
"You're fortunate, Magra. We understand your plight," Aegir announced with a smile.
"But there's a condition," interjected Oz with a smirk. "Join forces with our tribe, merging our clans into one."
Magra's eyes widened in astonishment at the unexpected turn of events.
