Anders’ screams of anguish kept my bloodlust sated and warmed my heart for the next two months as we raced across the plains, to catch up with the last group of outcasts. During that time, I was called home to be there for the birth of Nathalie’s and my child, a beautiful daughter by the name of Talia. To me secret relief, she had like all her other siblings, with the exception of Zac, inherited my magic.

While spending a few days at home with the wives and my newborn daughter, I did something unforgivable. I implanted Zac with a memory crystal that would trigger when he was thirteen. I was not sure why I did, it was a strong feeling that I had to do it.

I was pretty sure this was my own idea, stemming from my paranoia about what the unwelcome, but somewhat helpful, presence in my mind was up to. Of course, I could not say for certain, she had manipulated my emotions and thoughts with great subtlety before. I implanted the crystal while using illusion magic to hide it from the mysterious woman, and from everyone else. At least I hoped it hid it from her.

I had been doing countless similar modifications, implementing spell crystals in myself, as a backup if I should ever lose access to a form of magic for some reason. The enigmatic passenger in my head had never mentioned my secret crystals, which was why I thought I might be able to hide things from her. Of course, she could just be playing me, everything was possible.

Talia’s birth came slightly before what I thought would be our biggest battle yet, so after only a single day with her, I rushed back to the plains. I could not let Caspar and the soldiers have all the fun.

We prepared for battle as we had two times before. However, before we could even start getting into formation, a small group of orc came running towards our forces. Five orcs, without any visible weapons. They had also washed their face, removing any and all warpaint.

“What is the meaning of this?” I asked our resident orc expert, Arkoshta.

“They’re surrendering. The small orc in front is their leader, the four running with him is his honour guard,” came the reply.

“Surrendering?” I asked incredulously. I did not want them to surrender, I wanted to do some carnage, I had been pulled away from my newborn daughter for this? I was incensed. I almost ordered an attack, but I managed to get a grip on myself. Now was not the time to let emotions cloud the judgement.

The last hundred metres, the small group of orcs stopped running and instead fell to their knees, crawling on them, stopping five metres from me. The female orc to the right of the leader spoke up, “Our esteemed leader, Ezra, wishes to honour the Goddess and make peace instead of honouring the God of War.”

“What will happen if I just kill them?” I asked Arkoshta.

“No orc would ever respect you again, the orc under your command would do everything within their power to work against you. You’d be without honour,” was her reply. The one I thought I would get, but definitely not the one I wanted.

“Fine, I want to know why you are surrendering? Numbers don’t seem to be a deterrent to the proud orcs, normally,” I asked the leader. The way his eyes had followed the conversation, I was certain that he knew the human language. He was also a farseer as they called the mages who could bond with an animal and see and hear through its senses from several kilometres away.

“One of the orcs in the last group you conquered, sent a warning before he was collared. A warning that was also a possibility for my group of orcs,” the leader, Ezra, said. He was still prostrate in front of me. “He told my shamans of the food you provided, of the opportunity to become something else than nomads. Ironically, most of us were forced to become even more nomadic, after we tried to settle down and farm.”

I snorted at that. “Let me guess, it did not go over well with the rest of the clan.”

“No, we left voluntarily, settled down. They came and burned down our fields and houses, so we were forced to live a nomadic life.”

“Well, it’s true that I’m incorporating the groups I’ve conquered, but only half. The other half goes to former chief Barka. We’re working to elevate him back to being a chief,” I said honestly.

“Understood, we have plenty of orcs in our group that does not wish to settle down,” Ezra admitted. “The core group started that way though.”

“Okay, it seems you already know what to expect, so get your people sorted. Make sure none of the shamans sends out any warnings,” I said.

“Yes, Milord, I’ve already ordered them not to,” he said with a slight smile, getting up.

“One thing though, I want to know who warned you,” I said, with narrowed eyes.

The shaman who had sent the warning was brought forth and forced to his knees in front of me. After a short questioning, it turned out that he had only warned this group because his sister was married to Ezra. It just left what to do with him.

On one hand, I wanted to thank the man for sparing my men some bloodshed, on the other I wanted to punish him for taking my fun away. I ended up doing neither. I walked away, after letting the shaman shiver in fear at my feet.

However, the fact that the former chief of the newly conquered group was still alive provided me with a conundrum. I had a deal with Barka, who had used me for his own ends, who was definitely a stronger leader, but could I really trust him in following through?. On the other, I had Ezra, a weaker leader, but subservient and from the way, the orcs under his command were fed and lived, a capable administrator.

Was it time to give some payback for the manipulation that Barka had done? Hell yes.

Would Ezra have the courage and gravitas to deliver what I needed? I was not so sure.

With an unclear answer, I decided to make that decision after I had dealt with Rikasta and Barka’s former clan. However, that was not our next target, another clan was. A clan would definitely not be as easy to defeat as the smaller groups had been.

Since I was sick and tired of travelling through the northern plains, I left Caspar and Ethan in charge of getting my burgeoning army from one place to another. They would raise a portal gate when it was time for me to rejoin them.

I wished I could spend time with my family, but their absence for long from the Hold would be noticed, by the many invisible priests that had infiltrated my land. I had noticed them when I was home for Garion’s birthday. Luckily, they had not seen me.

However, if I was home, some of the servants might slip a casual word that would reveal my presence there. Something that would be less than optimal. It was clear I had come under heavy suspicion. More than I had ever been, while on this fucked up planet.

So instead of going home, I went to the Sanctuary together with Arkoshta and Shenerah. They took delight in torturing—I mean training me in polearm fighting and stopping me from using magic instinctively.

I spent six hours training with the girls, then I spent six hours in my Memory Repository, before spending six hours on improving my body, making it more efficient and protected.

The time I spent in the Repository was not about reliving memories of Yathanae, but about getting as much Earth knowledge down. I also spent a lot of time figuring out how to recreate technology from Earth. Mostly unsuccessfully.

Nevertheless, every single attempt was recorded, meaning I could always review them later and find out where I went wrong.

Of course, the time was not all work and no play. I spent a lot of time swimming with Nia and her siblings. At least an hour every day. It was a refreshing carefree time. A time that all too soon came to an end.

I was in the middle of training with Arkoshta, when Shenerah informed me that it was time to go, “Ethan just sent a message, the clan we were looking for is in view. He’s in the process of building the gateway, which should be another thirty minutes.”

“Okay, let's stop—” I started saying when Arkoshta took advantage of my distraction and smacked me across the face with the end of her trident. I shot her nasty glare. She just shrugged. With a little magic, I healed my broken jaw. “As I was saying, we’re stopping now. We need to be ready. Run along and tell Nishka to have the rest of the guards ready to move out.”

The last part was said to one of the four Wolf Guards that Nishka insisted were to guard me at all times, even inside Sanctuary. The only time they were not around was when I went diving and swimming with Nia and her siblings.

It was barely seven minutes later when Shenerah gasped, while Arkoshta released a low growl. I looked back at them, afraid their hostility towards each other had flared up and had become physical. They did not.

It was Arkoshta that answered my questioning look. “Your army is under attack. By three clans, your target must have called in reinforcements.”

“Godsdamnit!” I cursed under my breath. “Shenerah, tell Ethan to hurry the fuck up and get the teleport finished. Arkoshta, ask one of them to tell us what the situation is!”

With the power borrowed from Arkoshta, I could see that they sent the messages. Shenerah spoke first, “Ethan says he’s hurrying as much as he can, but it’s still fifteen minutes.”

“What’s the sitrep?” I demanded, looking at Arkoshta.

She hesitated for a moment. “It’s bad. It’s roughly a hundred thousand orcs are approaching. Estimate five minutes until they’re within rifle range.”

“How the fuck did they sneak up on my army? A hundred thousand orcs are not exactly quiet,” I growled.

“It’s morning, Milord. Caspar tried to sneak closer to the clan’s temporary settlement during the night. It seems the Orcs moved during the night as well,” Arkoshta said with a worried frown.

“Fuck, if they counter-moved like that, they must have been warned. But who?” I grumbled. “Shenerah, send a message to Emma. Tell her that Lily needs to raise the alarm level, I want every available trooper on guard duty. I got a bad feeling that this is a prelude to something. Get infirmaries set up, ready as much ammunition, grenades and mana crystals as possible. I’ll send Ethan back to open up the portals.”

Waiting was a pain. Especially after Arkoshta said, “They are within shooting range. Your men have started firing, while the mages have raised quick fortifications, barely high enough to prevent a full-grown orc to leap over it.”

“Fuck,” I grumbled once more. I wanted Shenerah to ask when Ethan was ready, but I would know in time, especially since any distraction could mean a delay, or worse, a failure and he had to start over. I just hoped my men would hold long enough for me to get there. Ten thousand against a hundred thousand.

“Since we’re standing here with our thumbs up our butts, get me a bunch of grenades. Going to have to make a big splash when the portal finally opens,” I ordered.

“How many?” the Wolf Guard asked.

“A sack full should make a small dent, but more importantly, sow some chaos. And a sack of mana crystals for Ethan,” I replied. A couple of minutes later, the guard returned with my requested items. With the seconds ticking away slowly, I was getting impatient.

Arkoshta tensed up. “The fronts have clashed.”

Another minute passed when finally Shenerah put her hand on my shoulder. “It’s ready, he’s sending the code.”

I nodded and plunged into her memory of receiving the code. I copied the feeling and pushed it into the gate as I got ready to wreak havoc in the ranks of the orcs. The moment the gate opened, I was off like a greyhound at the track.

As soon as I was through to the other side, I pushed off, jumping as high as I could, letting wind magic propel me even further and higher. I remembered to drop the sack of crystals for Ethan and shouted for him to head back to Sanctuary.

As Arkoshta had reported, there had been raised fortifications, though only chest high for my men to duck behind. It would be a little hindrance for the orcs if my own orcs were not up there holding them back. The earth mages were busy erecting platforms for my riflemen. The situation was looking a bit grim.

Nevertheless, it was lucky that Ethan had decided to start with the portal instead of the castle to go around it. With that many orcs, it would not have held for long.

As I soared towards the sky, or so it felt, despite it being only ten metres, I heard someone shout, “The Lord is here!”

A cheer went up. It felt great being worshipped like that, but I had no time to dwell on that. Instead, I had to concentrate on the enemy in front of me. As soon as I cleared the fortifications, I started going to work. First I switched to levitate, which would let me glide gracefully to the ground, with a little help of some more wind magic.

I started chugging out the primitive grenades, making holes just behind the frontlines, hoping to take some pressure off the frontlines. Each grenade blew up a half dozen to a dozen orcs. Even though I had fifty grenades, it was but a drop in the bucket.

However, what it did was create more chaos in the already chaotic lines of the orcs. The holes in the line gave my men a few seconds to breath and rotate fresh fighters in. I pulled the last two grenades and threw them on the ground directly beneath me, creating a relatively safe place to land. It was safe for at least a few seconds.

Long enough for me to land in a classic three point superhero landing, shooting out a ring of earthy spikes, impaling anyone even daring to come close. I stood up, pulling my dragons. Firing them at a close range, killing another five. I then started taking potshots at the orcs around me with small bolts of fire and icicles, which infuriated them.

Just as I wanted.

With roars of defiance, promising death to all humans, the orcs started rushing me, making their way quickly, and not carefully enough through the circle of stone spikes I had created. It had a ten-metre radius, with razor-sharp spikes standing straight up to waist height. Only the other ring was bigger and was aimed at a low thirty-degree angle, catching the orcs right through their solar plexus.

When the first orc was about to reach me, I leaned down, placing my hand on the ground, connecting more fully to the stone construct I had created. I did not need it normally, but with how many things I needed to make it do, it would make it easier.

The whole circle started to shake, stopping a few of the almost hundred orcs, who were trying to reach me, in their tracks. I looked up at the nearest orc and gave him a smirk and a wink. Then the segments of the ring I had created started rotating.

Every ten centimetres was a ring. One moved clockwise, the other counter-clockwise, creating my own orc blender.

The orc started screaming in pain and panic as they were ripped apart, the rings picked up speed, and soon all that was left of the hundred orcs were a bloody mess. The orc outside the blender roared their defiance, but the roars were shaky at best. Fear easily picked out amongst the shouts.

Exactly what I had planned, and hoped for. Taking out a hundred orcs would do a little. Take them out in a spectacular and bloody fashion? One of two results would happen. They would become fearful or enraged. I hoped for the first and got it.

The souls of all the orcs I killed flowed into my body, the mysterious sphere in my mana pool absorbed them greedily. Releasing a wave of euphoria, making me want to kill more orcs.

I did that by detonating the stone spikes outwards. The shrapnel flensed through skin, muscle and sinew alike. Killing orcs by the score. I followed up by large swatches of flames, draining even more mana while taking more lives.

I cut a swath through the orcs in front of the temporary fortifications with my fire magic. They fell by the handful every time I moved like wheat in front of a scythe, one made from fire instead of metal.

In less than a minute I had created a hole back to my own lines. I saw the portal was open, men pushing carts of equipment through. Almost nonchalantly, I killed the orcs in my immediate vicinity, making my men cheer. Even the new orc recruits. There was no love lost between the exiled groups and the clans. Nor between the clans for that matter.

With little effort, I vaulted over the wall, as my men created room for me to reenter the defensive circle. I looked at the nearest squad leader. “Where’s Caspar?”

“Triage area, got caught by a glancing blow by an axe, Milord,” the squad leader quickly replied before getting back to directing his men.

I had made my way halfway to the triage area, when someone shouted from the platform, “Milord, quickly up here!”

It was Melissa, shouting from one of the shooting platforms. I made a small column of stone rise up. “What is it, Melissa?”

She just pointed. I looked in the direction she was pointing and saw a trio of monsters. That was the only way to describe them. Ten metres tall, had to weigh a ton or five, and it looked like all of it was muscles. They looked slightly orcish, but they could not be orcs, could they?

Arkoshta appeared on the platform next to Melissa, before I could even ask, she provided the answer. She groaned when she saw them. “Shit, ogres.”