Rujark did not remember most of the run back to the ogre settlement.
Only pieces of it stayed in his head.
Tree branches whipping past him.
The burning pain in his lungs.
The sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.
He had not stopped moving since leaving the troll village.
Not to sleep, eat, or even to drink.
By the time the massive wooden walls of the ogre settlement appeared ahead of him, his legs felt numb.
The guards spotted him immediately.
“Rujark?!”
He stumbled past them without slowing.
“Where’s the chieftain…?”
His voice cracked halfway through the sentence.
Something in his expression made the guards move instantly.
The settlement quickly shifted from its usual rhythm into tension.
Warriors stopped sharpening weapons.
Children were pulled aside.
Several ogres began moving toward the center hall.
Rujark finally reached the entrance and dropped to one knee, breathing hard.
The chieftain stepped out moments later.
Towering.
Silent.
His eyes narrowed slightly when he saw Rujark’s condition.
“What happened?”
Rujark tried to answer immediately but nearly choked on his own breath first.
“The troll village…” he forced out.
“That thing… it came back…”
The moment Humbaba’s name left Rujark’s mouth, the air around the chieftain changed.
Not violently.
Not loudly.
But everyone nearby felt it.
Rujark barely had time to finish explaining before the chieftain crouched down and lifted him onto his back like he weighed nothing.
“You ran well,” the chieftain said calmly.
Then he moved.
The ground behind him cracked slightly from the force of his first step.
Several ogres watched him disappear into the forest in complete silence.
None of them offered to follow.
None of them could keep up.
The trip that took Rujark several exhausting days lasted less than one for the chieftain.
By the time the troll village appeared ahead, the sky had only just begun to darken.
The village no longer sounded alive the way it had during the competition.
There were no children running around.
No laughter from the market tunnels.
Only hurried movement.
Trolls carried supplies through the streets while others dismantled structures and packed food into carts.
Some of the underground entrances had already been sealed off.
The moment the chieftain entered the village, conversations stopped.
Not because he demanded silence.
His presence alone caused it.
He stepped past the villagers and finally spotted Humbaba near the center of the settlement.
The large ogre was seated against a stone wall, covered in bruises and cuts.
One side of his body was darkened from impact damage and his breathing sounded rough.
Grisha knelt beside him, wrapping another layer of bandages around his arm. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
Rujark was gently lowered from the chieftain’s back.
The boy nearly collapsed from exhaustion.
The chieftain looked at Humbaba for several long seconds before turning toward Grisha.
“Explain.”
His voice was calm.
That somehow made it worse.
Grisha slowly stood up.
Even she looked smaller than usual standing in front of him.
“It returned two days after the children left,” she said.
“But it wasn’t alone this time.”
Humbaba wiped blood from the corner of his mouth before continuing.
“It found another fragment.”
The chieftain’s eyes shifted slightly.
Humbaba let out a tired breath.
“The smaller distortions around the forest… they aren’t separate creatures.
They’re pieces of the same thing.”
Grisha nodded.
“We think the more fragments it absorbs, the more complete it becomes.”
The chieftain glanced toward the middle of the village.
That was when he finally saw it properly.
Floating above the cracked ground was a massive cocoon-like structure formed from warped space and dark matter-like strands.
The air around it bent strangely, making it difficult to focus on directly.
It pulsed slowly.
Like something breathing.
Several trolls nearby avoided even looking at it.
Humbaba rested his head back against the wall.
“I tried to stop it before the merge finished,” he admitted.
“Didn’t work.”
“You fought it alone?” the chieftain asked.
Humbaba gave a small laugh despite his injuries.
“Didn’t have much choice.”
There was no pride in his voice.
Only frustration.
The chieftain stared at the cocoon in silence.
The pressure coming from him began spreading through the area naturally.
Nearby trolls quietly moved farther away.
Even Grisha felt her chest tighten slightly.
The chieftain blamed himself.
That much was obvious.
The first time the anomaly appeared, he and Humbaba had managed to drive it away before it fully stabilized.
If they had destroyed it completely back then, the troll village would not be preparing to abandon their home now.
His eyes slowly hardened.
Then he lifted his left arm toward the distant forest.
His fingers curled slightly.
Like he was grabbing something invisible by the throat.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
A distant sound echoed through the forest.
Trees shook violently somewhere far away.
Another sound followed.
Louder this time.
Something massive was moving toward the village at terrifying speed.
Troll warriors immediately turned toward the forest edge.
A gigantic double-headed axe tore through the air fast enough to split the wind around it.
The weapon spun several times before slamming perfectly into the chieftain’s open hand.
THUNK.
The impact alone shook the nearby ground.
Varkhalion.
The weapon looked ancient even among ogre craftsmanship.
Dark metal covered the massive axe head while deep orange cracks glowed faintly beneath the surface like buried heat.
The chieftain lowered it beside him and drove the blade into the earth.
CLANG.
Then he sat down beside it.
“I will wait,” he said.
His eyes remained fixed on the cocoon.
“This ends here.”
Nobody questioned him.
Not Humbaba.
Not Grisha.
Not even the trolls preparing to leave.
Because every person there understood something clearly.
If the chieftain failed here— the forest itself would no longer be safe.
Far away from the troll village, the sea stretched endlessly beneath the evening sky.
The ogre children stood together near the side of a large wooden ship as workers carried cargo across the deck.
Kaizer quietly watched everything around him.
Humans moved quickly between crates.
Demi-humans shouted instructions from above the sails.
Strange bird-like creatures carried ropes overhead while smaller animal-eared workers pushed carts across the dock.
None of it looked familiar.
Jugashar leaned slightly closer to Bruknash.
“There are too many people here.”
Bruknash folded his arms.
“You’ll live.”
Kijaga pointed toward a tall figure near the front of the ship.
“That one’s staring at us.”
The figure eventually waved.
Kaizer waved back immediately.
The others looked at him.
“What?” Kaizer asked.
Before anyone answered, a loud voice echoed across the dock.
“Move faster unless you want the tide leaving without us!”
The speaker was a broad-shouldered demi-human with striped fur around his arms and sharp golden eyes.
Captain Tigi.
He moved confidently across the deck while barking orders at the crew.
Unlike most humans nearby, he did not seem bothered by the ogre children at all.
After checking the cargo one last time, Tigi climbed onto the railing near the front of the ship and looked toward the crew.
“All lines secured?”
“Aye!”
“Supplies loaded?”
“Aye!”
Tigi grinned widely.
“Then quit standing around!”
He pointed toward the open sea.
“Set sail for the Demi-human Continent, Feralis!”
You do not want to piss of a War spirit ogre!!
very bad idea.