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Revelation of the Orcs

Struck by lightning, his soul miraculously traversed to the continent of Sauron, becoming an orc youth named Barok. This world, where strength reigns supreme, is both cruel and unfamiliar. Among all the races on the continent of Sauron, the orcs lack the power to protect themselves; they are the weakest. Enslaved and slaughtered by powerful humans, despised by other races, they live in the most barren and desolate regions of the continent, constantly facing life-threatening monstrous beasts, harsh natural environments, hunger, and chaos. What path lies ahead for the orcs? Barok roared in defiance: "Follow me, let us orcs change the rules!" This is a world of mythical beasts and monsters, of battle energy and magic. The orcs will rise under Barok's leadership!

tianzekunkun · Kỳ huyễn
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88 Chs

News of His Kin

Baroque slowly awoke and immediately looked toward the white wolf. The Hebradon wolf king lay silently on the ground, now lifeless. The diamond-shaped crystal on its forehead had vanished, leaving a deep hollow. Its body was transforming into specks of light, gradually dissipating. Its still-open eyes, filled with infinite longing and love, gazed toward Baroque.

A furry little wolf snuggled into his arms—it was the silver cub. With tear-filled eyes, it spoke in a broken, childish voice, "Father is gone. You have to take care of me... and my brothers!"

"What happened? Where are your brothers?" Baroque asked, not seeing the three phantasmal eggs.

"Father's crystal split into four pieces and went to us. My three brothers are inside you. Father said that when they absorb the crystal's power, they will hatch. Until then, they need your power to nurture them," the little wolf said, yawning and growing increasingly sleepy. "I need to sleep too. Father said not to leave you. He said... your power is very helpful to us..."

Baroque panicked, quickly standing and inspecting his body. He wanted to cry. Though he couldn't see the three phantasmal eggs, he had a clear feeling they were inside him, inexplicably. Somehow, the eggs, each the size of a goose egg, were within his body.

In a frantic state, he tore off his rough clothing. On his chest, beneath a thin layer of beast hair, three faint silver silhouettes moved slowly. The eggs were inexplicably attached to his body, and Baroque could distinctly feel three very weak but gradually invigorating life forces within him, akin to being pregnant.

The silver cub, who had just been yawning, humanly jumped up, grabbed Baroque's left arm, and muttered, "I'm going to sleep now. Father has some words for you. See for yourself!" With that, the cub's body shimmered and turned into a shadow that fused with Baroque's arm, leaving behind a clear wolf-shaped tattoo.

A message abruptly entered Baroque's mind. It was the last message from the white wolf, left for him. "What am I now... a nanny or a pregnant woman!" Baroque muttered, almost crying.

The message from the Hebradon wolf king contained vast amounts of information. As the white wolf had mentioned, Baroque's current strength allowed him to understand only a fraction of it. The rest was a vague light cluster lurking in his mind, awaiting the right moment in the future to reveal itself.

When Baroque emerged from the cave, he felt a sense of disorientation, as if he had experienced another life. If it weren't for the wolf-shaped tattoo on his arm and the three slowly moving silver egg-shaped patterns on his chest, he might have thought it was all a dream.

The Frost Giant Wolf had woken at some point, hiding behind a rock halfway up the mountain. Despite its fear, it hadn't fled. Seeing Baroque descend from the mountain, it leaped like a joyous rabbit, pouncing on him and licking his face with its crimson tongue, covering him in slobber.

"Hey, buddy, you're going to crush me!" Baroque exclaimed. The robust wolf, as strong as a fine horse, could have crushed him to death if not for his own strength.

Pushing away the drooling wolf, Baroque stood up and glanced back at the mountain top. The body of the Hebradon wolf king had entirely turned into light specks and disappeared without a trace, a truly wondrous sight.

Among the white wolf's messages was a secret technique to conceal the presence of the three eggs and the silver wolf. The Hebradon wolf king had sternly warned, "If you encounter human Phantasmal Armor warriors in the future, even the lowest-ranked ones, do not reveal yourself unless you are certain you can kill them and keep it secret. Otherwise, you will face endless pursuit by Phantasmal Armor warriors until your death. Remember my fate—though I stood at the pinnacle of phantasmal beasts, I could not escape death."

"Is this a blessing or a curse?" Baroque murmured to himself, shaking his head. These thoughts were too distant. The three eggs might take years to hatch, and even the silver wolf's awakening was uncertain. There were more immediate matters to attend to.

The Frost Giant Wolf seemed determined to follow him, much to Baroque's relief. For convenience, he decided to give it a name. Looking at the goofy-faced wolf, which seemed like an overgrown pup, he thought, why not call it "Little Dumb?"

The Frost Giant Wolf didn't like the name, baring its teeth at Baroque. "Alright, alright, how about 'Rack'? See, I'm Baroque, and our names will match."

The Frost Giant Wolf, now called Rack, seemed very pleased. Baroque wouldn't tell it that in another memory, a game called poker had a term for the loser—"rack."

"Let's go find the honorable Baron Julian. His dead son once bought a beastman slave, who I suspect might have been my kin. Though that kin was killed, Julian might have some clues." Baroque leaped onto Rack's back, patting the giant wolf's head. With a low growl, Rack dashed forward like the wind, disappearing into the distance in an instant.

Baron Julian, accompanied by only a dozen warriors, was on the verge of an outburst. Assisting Lady Celine to enter the Trelm Forest had been a foolish decision. Not only had he failed to earn Lady Celine's favor, but his guards had suffered severe casualties—two intermediate Dou Qi warriors were dead, half of the remaining warriors were either dead or injured, and his only son had been killed. He seemed to have completely forgotten that he had pushed his son to face the raging ice bear's magic, resulting in his death. He blamed everything on that damned beastman. "I swear, if I see him again, I'll skin him alive and let him die in agony and despair!" Julian growled through gritted teeth.

"Is that so? Unfortunately, for my safety, I'll have to kill you." A sudden voice startled Julian. To his horror, the beastman was riding that terrifying Frost Giant Wolf, charging past two of his warriors. The beastman's ice ring slashed like the sharpest blade, instantly slicing the warriors in half. They fell to the ground, screaming briefly before dying in extreme pain.

The Frost Giant Wolf didn't remain idle either. Its ice ring shot out, targeting the warriors guarding Julian. They barely managed to raise their Dou Qi defenses, but within moments, their defenses shattered. Amidst their screams, two more warriors fell, and the rest were all wounded. The unfortunate men stood no chance against a Level 6 magical beast, unable to mount any resistance.

"You… you can't kill me. I'm a human noble. If you kill me, you'll face brutal punishment. Your tribe will be wiped out…" Julian screamed in panic. Despite possessing intermediate Dou Qi warrior strength and potentially holding off Baroque for a while, years of pampered living had eroded his courage—assuming he ever had any.

"My tribe is already gone. My kin are either dead or taken. Do you think you can threaten me?" Baroque replied coldly. Julian's words only fueled his murderous intent. Even without undergoing the Totem Baptism, Baroque and Rack shared an extraordinary bond. The Frost Giant Wolf opened its mouth, casting another Ice Blade spell. This time, it wasn't aimed at Julian but at the remaining warriors.

The poor souls had all turned to flee, abandoning Julian. The spinning ice ring cut through them from behind. Only three managed to dive to the ground, barely escaping. The rest weren't as lucky—severed heads and limbs fell, followed by agonizing screams. Baroque shook his head. If they had summoned the courage to unite and fight, even with their diminished numbers, they could have posed a significant threat to Baroque and Rack. But now, Baroque had no intention of leaving survivors. He needed to remain hidden in the human world for a while and didn't want his actions exposed.

When the last warrior fell, Baroque approached the terrified Baron Julian, pressing his sword to Julian's throat. "Your son Kyle once bought a beastman slave. I want to know everything about that slave. Where did he buy it, who was the seller, and where is it now? Don't lie or hide anything, or… you know the consequences."

"I'll tell you everything… just please don't kill me," Julian begged, trembling. "A while ago, I took Kyle to the capital, Padeya, for business. We bought a silver-gray-haired beastman slave at the slave market there. They told me it was from the Frost Wolf Tribe. But I didn't believe those damned slave traders. The Frost Wolf Tribe lives on the northern tundra, thousands of miles away from the Paddington Kingdom, separated by several other kingdoms. Only a fool would transport beastmen that far to sell them for just five gold coins. I had heard rumors that the beastman tribes in the Gravel Wasteland had been overrun by mercenaries, with the survivors either killed or captured. Those beastmen, although weak, also had silver fur like the Frost Wolf Clan. That female slave was obviously from there. Later… Kyle fancied her, so I bought her. Then… then…" Julian cowered, afraid to continue. He now fully understood—this beastman was a survivor from the Gravel Wasteland, seeking his kin.

"Then what? Your pig of a son tried to violate my kin, and when she resisted, he beat her to death?"

"I'm sorry… merciful lord, Baroque. Please spare me. I'll make it up to you! I'll give you all my wealth from Rye City… just spare me. It was all Kyle's doing, not mine…"

"Which slave trader in Padeya sold her to you?" Baroque asked indifferently.

"It was Seston, known as 'The Butcher.' He's not only the largest slave trader in Padeya but also the owner of the largest gladiator arena, 'The Lion and the Axe.'"

"Do you know any more about my kin?"

"That's all I know. Rumor has it many of your kin are in Seston's hands, being trained as gladiators for profit…"

Baroque felt a bit relieved, finally experiencing some joy. Though many of his kin had ended up in the gladiator arena, at least they were safe until trained.

Frost formed on his sword, and before Julian could react, it pierced his throat. With a slight push, Julian collapsed, eyes filled with despair and malice. "Thanks for the information, but you still have to die."

Mounting Rack, Baroque whispered, "Let's go, brother. We're heading to Padeya. But first, I need a gift. After all, to enter the capital, I'll need Lady Celine's help…"