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Bloodstained Blade-Chapter 53 - Establishing Dominance
The day that followed was a violent one, but it was much less fatal than the night had been for the orcs. Although the corpses of the recently dead were roasted and devoured, no one else died. Instead, they fought and celebrated their chieftain’s ascension to godhood, which was how he explained what had happened to him.
“The Great Tusks have been chosen to rule over the world!” The big orc roared before proceeding to demonstrate how strong the blade had made him. Though the big monster had always been strong, with the sword strapped to his back in a crude sheathe, he was able to wrestle any three other orcs in his tribe without any issues. He could also cleave small stones and large trees in half with the blade in a single stroke.
The Ebon Blade did not enjoy the feel of granite on its edge, but surprisingly, it was not dulled by it. So, it endured such pointless behavior without complaint. If this was what was required for its new wielder to rally his much-reduced tribe for the war to come, then so be it.
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What was harder to endure was the veneration. By the end of that first day, they were referring to it as the dark tusk, or alternately, the greatest of tusks since orcs didn’t use swords. It was very strange for the Ebon Blade, and it didn’t take long to decide it didn’t care for the treatment. It was a weapon, not a deity, and the very last thing it wanted was to be enshrined and worshiped. It wanted to kill and feel the heat of battle all around it.
Fortunately, it didn’t have to wait long for that. The celebrations over Var’gar’s ascension to godhood lasted for three days, and when the food ran out, they began to march on the nearest tribe, which was an encampment of Blood Axes several miles away.
Worship aside, those few days gave it a chance to view the orcs in their natural habitat, which was more interesting than it would have thought. They were stupid, savage monsters, but they were worlds beyond goblins. They had families, made tools, and gathered seeds and roots to go along with the flesh of the fallen. They even had burial rituals and buried the bones of each corpse separately and with some recognition of who they were.
Only their teeth and tusks remained unburied. The teeth were made into beads that adorned necklaces and dreadlocks, and the tusks were turned into elaborately carved spear points so the dead could continue to kill, even from beyond the grave.
That thin veneer of civilization evaporated when they started to move, though. Once the hide tents were broken down and bundled up, they were left for the juveniles to carry or drag while the adults of both genders put on war paint and took up arms. Such things were unnecessary, though. It took longer for the Great Tusks to hike to the Blood Axe settlement than it did for them to conquer it.
Conquer was probably the wrong word. The battle that followed was done with single combat, and unfortunately, both of the participants fought with their bare hands. Var’gar still had the Ebon Blade slung across his back, of course, but some orcish code that it did not understand would not allow him to draw it. To fight for dominance with a weapon like Thargen had done would apparently make one look very weak.
Even without its sharp edge, the contest was not a close one. It would have gone even faster if not for the seemingly required rounds of insults and stare-downs that preceded and often interrupted the violence. Var’gar even let the chief of the Blood Axes throw the first punch into his statue-like face before he followed it up with a headbutt that would have shattered the skull of a lesser man.
“This?” the orc chief boasted. “You call this strength? There is no strength here, only food and thralls!”
After that, the battle went much faster. In less than two minutes, Var’gar beat the other orc to death with his own arm while his opponent tried and failed to understand how anyone could be so strong.
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In truth, Var’gar was probably nearly as strong as the ogre that Ivarr had once defeated, which meant it would probably take at least one mage and perhaps two or three to take its current wielder down. That pleased it, and it looked forward to some of the bloodier fights to come even as it tried to enjoy this one.
While watching its wielder rip apart another orc with his bare hands was entertaining, it was much less satisfying than hacking him to pieces, and the blade expressed its displeasure by silently leaching the life of those around it. It didn’t kill any of the orcs. This was the seed of its future army, after all. Still, it did not enjoy being a spectator to a fight rather than a participant.
+204 Life Force
+1 Greater monster Soul
The same thing occurred at the first Stone Skull encampment they reached the following day. They had the same insults and the same fight. It was followed by the same one-sided victory and the same raucous celebration while the blade was forced to watch rather than murder.
+177 Life Force
+1 Greater monster Soul
The only difference between the two events, besides how much larger Var’gar’s entourage had become, was the size of the encampment. It was larger than both of the previous camps that the blade had seen put together.
This fight was scarcely longer than the first, and it bored the blade to tears. Having to watch violence that it could not participate in was very nearly as bad as being abandoned in a tree as it had been before. Of course, it suspected that it could simply force Var’gar to draw and use it. The monster’s mind was not strong, and in most cases, it was sure they were aligned enough that it wouldn’t even try to oppose it too hard.
Still, for this, it left the orc to handle it. It wanted an army so vast that it would cover the horizon, and this was the way to get there, even if it found the process less than satisfying.
Fortunately for the blade’s sanity, that changed the following day when they were marching toward the final large settlement in the valley. Var’gar was looking forward to that, of course. Until the weapon had made the orc expand his worldview, it had been his dream to control the whole of the place. Now, though, it was just a stepping stone. The Great Tusk tribe was growing, and with such numbers, it could have conquered the next three valleys in short order, even if they weren’t relying on challenges and single combat.
The Ebon Blade was hanging quietly on its wielder’s back, wondering how many orcs would have to approach a camp for the leader to simply surrender on the spot when they were attacked.
The cry came from somewhere behind them, and the chieftain wasted no time in charging toward the sound of violence. He even drew the black blade on his back for the first time, which it greatly approved of.
The blade wasn’t sure what to expect, not until the first scratch. Its first impulse was that the human army that had been purging the area of beastmen had found it or that Ivarr and his witch had returned. Neither turned out to be the case. It was a manticore, which was in some ways more dangerous than any of those things.
The red bat lion was huge. It was nearly twenty feet long, and though its wings were folding nearly on its back, it was certain they could unfold to be fifty feet or more. Its leathery, crimson wings were the least important part of the beast, though. Not only did it have a spiky tail as large as a man’s head, but it had sword-like claws extending from its chest-sized paws.
It was the largest, most ferocious monster that the Ebon Blade had seen since it had slain the dragon, and it desperately wanted to kill it. The weapon was uncertain if it was the same one that Ivarr had seen long ago, but it doubted that there could be too many predators of this size in the area. It had landed amidst the orcs’ baggage train, and though some warriors were standing their ground to fight it, they weren’t doing much good as it devoured some of the juveniles with its almost human head while the rest scattered.
+4 Lesser Monster souls
+3 Greater Monster souls
Var’gar didn’t shy away. He did pause for a moment to survey the scene, but when the giant beast roared a challenge, its wielder responded in kind. Then, it charged the giant winged creature. It seemed almost amused by this and reared up on its hind legs, prepared to devour this newcomer, just like it had all the other orcs that had stood against it in the last minute or so.