Fate or Coincidence? (4)

A group of individuals clad in black garments moved stealthily, assigned to track the whereabouts of the orc horde.

"Do you have any idea where those damned orcs are headed?" one of them asked, his voice a low whisper.

"Not yet, Captain. The orcs are making their way toward the Cursed Forest. And a day ago, a squad of orcs headed southeast toward the other cursed forest border. I didn't follow them because I hadn't reported back to you yet," came the response.

"That's fine. Good work. We'll split our group into two. Me and five others will head to the southeast to catch up with the squad of orcs. The rest of you will stay here and monitor the movements of this orc horde. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" they all replied in unison, determination etched on their faces. With that, the captain and five others set off toward the border of the Cursed Forest, ready to track the orc squad and uncover their intentions.

As they journeyed deeper into the forest, the group halted in shock at the sight before them, numerous orc corpses littered the ground. "There are orc bodies here too, Captain," one of the men remarked, his voice laced with disbelief.

"What happened here?" the captain demanded, stepping closer to examine the scene.

"Maybe it's a conflict among themselves, Captain," one of his subordinates suggested, but the captain shook his head.

"That can't be it. Look at these bodies, they were killed by spear thrusts to the head, and look at this hole, this is a trap."

"Is this the work of the Ciyane family's forces?" another soldier ventured, his brow furrowing with concern.

"I don't think so. This method is too brutal for their style, and this part of land isn't their territory" the captain replied, his mind racing with possibilities. "Whatever the case, we need to follow the trail left by these corpses."

With a sense of urgency, they began to move cautiously, tracking the grim path of the fallen orcs, determined to uncover the truth behind this violent scene.

They arrived at the site where the last of the orc bodies lay scattered across the forest floor. "This is where the trail ends; after this point, the area is eerily clean, nothing has happened here. What could have transpired?"

"Captain, look here," one of the men said, pointing to a distinct body. "This is the orc leader I saw yesterday."

"From the wounds, it seems he fought one-on-one against someone or something," the captain observed, scanning the ground for signs of a struggle. His gaze fell upon the numerous weapon marks etched into the earth, suggesting an audience had watched the battle unfold.

"Wait, this bone spear... I recognize it! It belongs to Mortis Lavindra, the Death-Tamer. What brings him here?"

His mind raced with possibilities. "Could he have sought to measure his strength by challenging the orc leader to a duel? But this orc hasn't even shown signs of unleashing his most potent technique, Life-Force Berserk. If he had, even I, ranked 20 among the kingdom's fighters, would find it difficult to contend with him."

The captain's thoughts spiraled, realizing that the confrontation between Mortis and the orc leader was not only a test of strength but a pivotal moment that could have shifted the balance of power in the region.

"Whatever Mortis Lavindra's reasons for this, our task is clear: we are to observe the orcs," the captain declared, his voice firm. "I'll report directly to Lord Lucien about this later. For now, let's head southeast to see if any remnants of the orc forces are still lingering there. Move out!"

"Understood, sir!" his team responded, their urgency palpable as they hastened towards the southeastern border.

Little did they know, the one who had vanquished the orc general lay unconscious within a nearby cave.

Tristan awoke to the sound of distant shouting echoing from outside his cave. "Who on earth is making all that noise?" he muttered, peering cautiously out but seeing no one. "Must just be my imagination; there's no way anyone would come near the cursed forest." He stifled a yawn, feeling the remnants of sleep fade away. "Well, since I'm up, I should check my surroundings."

As he stood, a strange realization hit him. "Wait a minute,my body doesn't feel sore at all. Just last night, my thigh and legs felt like they were about to shatter. Is it possible this body has some incredible regeneration ability?" He pondered, curiosity piqued. "Hmm, I'd like to test that, but there's too much to do today." Stretching his limbs, he rose to his feet.

"Whoa, look at all this mess I have to clean up!" Tristan exclaimed, staring at the piles of orc bodies that awaited his attention. "Alright, let's fill up on some energy first. I still have some of that smoked meat from yesterday." He decided to make his way to the river, eager to eat and mentally prepare himself for the daunting task of cleaning up the gruesome scene ahead.

"A meal by the river should do the trick," he thought, the sound of the flowing water soothing his nerves. "I'll gather my strength and tackle this mess. Time to get to work!"

Tristan began his cleaning task with determination. He started by collecting the orcs' weapons, carefully inspecting each one for anything salvageable. Next, he gathered the usable stone spears, setting them aside for future use. With a deep breath, he set to work digging a large hole, his muscles straining with the effort.

"I don't want to burn these orc bodies," he muttered to himself, wiping sweat from his brow. "That might attract even more trouble later on."

Once the hole was deep enough, he meticulously placed the orc bodies inside, one by one, trying to do it respectfully despite the circumstances. Each thud of a body hitting the earth felt heavy, a reminder of the brutal battle he had survived.

"If I bury them, maybe they'll just rest here, and I can avoid unwanted attention from other orcs or worse," he pondered, feeling a sense of responsibility for the chaos that had unfolded.

Tristan finished cleaning the area around him, wiping his brow and surveying his work with a sense of accomplishment. "Tomorrow, I'll need to fix my traps," he thought, realizing how time had slipped away from him. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the forest floor.

"It's getting late," he murmured to himself, "I should wash up in the river and prepare to meditate for a bit."

He made his way to the river, the cool water glistening invitingly. After a quick wash, he felt refreshed, the chill of the water rejuvenating him. Once he was clean, he settled on a smooth rock by the bank, closed his eyes, and focused on his breathing. The sounds of the forest around him faded as he sank into a meditative state.

In his meditation, Tristan exclaimed, "What is this? It feels like water flowing from the air into my body. Is this mana? Can I finally use magic? Let me try to control the flow entering my body."

With newfound excitement, he began to manipulate the strange energy with ease, guiding it around him like a playful breeze. "Whew, this is more exhausting than burying all those orcs," he chuckled, feeling a mix of fatigue and exhilaration. "But on the bright side, muahahaha! Finally, finally, I can savor the pleasures of life in this other world. Oh, I love other world!" He embraced himself, a wide grin spreading across his face as he reveled in the possibilities that lay ahead.

Tristan returned to the cave, bouncing with excitement. "Alright, let's get a fire going!" He reached for his fire-making tools but suddenly paused, an idea striking him. "Wait a minute! I can now control mana. Let's try conjuring fire with magic! Muahahaha!" He rifled through his belongings until he found his mother's spellbook.

"Where did I put it? Ah, here it is! Now, let's find the fire spell. Fire spell..." He flipped through the pages, scanning until he found what he was looking for. "There it is! It says here that I need to visualize what fire is and project it into my hand. Alright, let's give this a shot."

He took a deep breath, focusing intently. "From what I know, fire is created from three main components: fuel, oxygen, and heat. If I want to create fire from mana, perhaps I can imagine the mana being heated up. Let's give it a go!" With determination in his heart, he concentrated, envisioning the flow of mana swirling in his hands, warming and igniting into flames.

"I did it! Damn, I'm about to cry from this!" Tristan exclaimed, exhilarated by his newfound ability. He quickly transferred the flame from his hand to the neatly stacked pile of wood beside him. "Goodbye, old ways; I'm going to miss you!"

As the fire crackled to life, warmth enveloped him, casting a comforting glow in the cave. The flickering flames danced like tiny spirits, and Tristan couldn't help but smile at the sight. This was more than just fire; it was a sign of his progress, a testament to his growth in this new world. 

Tristan's mind raced with excitement as he recalled the promise of the storage space his father had mentioned. His heart swelled with anticipation, realizing he had overlooked this crucial aspect of his inheritance. 

"The storage space! How could I forget something I've been looking forward to for so long?" he exclaimed to himself, lifting his left hand to inspect the ring adorning his finger.

"If my guess is correct, I must channel my mana into this ring to open the storage space," he pondered, excitement coursing through him.

With a focused determination, Tristan closed his eyes, centering himself. He envisioned the flow of mana within him, feeling its warmth and energy. Taking a deep breath, he directed the mana into the ring, imagining it weaving through the intricate patterns, activating the dormant magic.

Suddenly, a portal materialized, its surface resembling a smooth, gray veil that sparkled like stars in the night sky.

"Is this it? The entrance to my storage space?" Tristan breathed, his heart pounding with exhilaration.

With a mix of excitement and trepidation, he stepped closer, reaching out to touch the portal, feeling the warmth radiating from it. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he prepared to step through, ready to discover what lay beyond.

"This could change everything," he thought, his mind racing with possibilities as he took his first step into the unknown.