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B3 Chapter 34: Everyone Loves a Good Execution
🕑 Added 2025-12-17 03:03:10 +0000 UTCB3 Chapter 34: Everyone Loves a Good Execution
The rocky expanse of Grund's home came into view as the orcs barreled down the pass like an avalanche. Their numbers were smaller than when they'd set out—significantly so. But that was no problem. If anything, it just made his current task a modicum easier.
“For honor!”
“Death to the Tulok Clan!”
“Kill them and take their shinies!”
Grund just sighed. He ran alongside the rest of his considerably less intelligent brethren, occasionally reminding them of their current goal and destination so they didn't get off track. After all, getting an orc to retreat was an exercise in futility. Getting one to seek out a different battlefield? Far more doable.
Every once in a while, he'd get resistance. An orc scowling at him and demanding why such a “puny wimp” should be listened to. Those were met with swift violence. Given that they'd lost not only Thak, but most of the other clan leaders and true terrors of their kind in the assault? Grund now held the title of strongest, and not by a small margin.
This had a number of consequences. For one, the lack of other leaders made herding the orc horde even more frustrating than usual. It was like herding… well, he didn’t actually know of anything more annoying to herd than a bunch of orcs.
The green wave descended upon the unsuspecting Tulok clan a short while later. They were a relatively small bunch, more inclined toward the hunting of beasts to feed the clans rather than actual war. However, they were far from the only ones—and the weakest of the lot. Sacrificing them to get his people home was an acceptable loss. Though Grund would certainly miss their recipe for roasted rockrat.
As the village burned around them, the orcs hooted in victory. The battle lust slowly began to subside now that their aim had been achieved. Grund found a nearby rock to sit on, already working to plan out his next moves. But not even a minute passed before a green musclehead with disproportionately sized tusks swaggered up to him.
“Grund of Clan Gormash!” The brawny figure roared. “I am Glob’guul of Clan Matok! You are a coward and a weakling! I challenge you!”
Grund just stared at the idiot before him and sighed. This was… not his preferred way to go about things. Leading this way was exhausting. Everyone wanted to challenge him, either because they saw him as weak or because they wanted to test themselves.
It was quite annoying. Having his brother deal with all this had been so much easier.
Reluctantly, Grund hauled himself back to his feet. The one named Glob took that as acceptance of his challenge, hefting his axe and roaring as he charged forward. Glob swung his axe horizontally to cleave at Grund’s waist. The scrawnier orc leaned back slightly, feeling the axe head whistle harmlessly past his stomach. Then his hands darted forward.
[Expert Grappling] and [Precise Grip] activated as he seized the orc’s throat and wrist with pinpoint accuracy. At the same time, he flicked a foot up at his kneecap, crushing it. Glob howled as the limb gave way beneath him. Grund took advantage of the momentum to spin and slam the other orc’s body into the ground, his [Wrestling Savant] title making the move even more powerful. A ring of dust exploded into the air as Grund slammed the orc into the ground.
People thought that because he didn’t like to fight, he couldn’t fight. But that was a misconception. Few orcs managed to survive without being able to hold their own in battle. And while his late brother had been admittedly more capable in some areas, that certainly didn’t mean that Grund was an easy opponent. His size meant that he was less muscle-bound than his brethren, more able to move quickly and react.
Grund set his feet and lifted Glob up by his throat, holding him off the ground with one hand. His other ripped the orc’s axe away and tossed it aside. Grund forced down the [Battle Lust] that clouded his judgement as he turned to face the crowd of spectators, squeezing to cut the vainly struggling Glob’s oxygen off.
“Look at this fool!” Grund shouted to the others. He spun in place to ensure all could see his latest challenger. “This pathetic little worm thought he could challenge me! Grund of Clan Gormash! Pathetic—see how low and weak you truly are!”
The others stared in awe. As much as Grund would have liked to believe it was due to his speech or the clear skill had displayed in his counterattack… he knew better. It was because he was holding the rather large-looking orc up with one arm.
That showed he was strong.
It wasn’t anything special. He was still an orc, after all, Most of them certainly could have done the same. But this was about the showmanship of the thing. The theater.
Of course, they didn’t have to know that it wasn’t really strength he was using. [Brutal Demise] worked best with an audience and scaled off his charisma and intelligence instead. But that was beside the point. It gave him the appearance of strength, and that was what mattered.
As he continued to choke Glob out, Grund reached up with his free hand to grab the orc’s topknot. He wrenched it back and began to pull. Glob tried to scream, his legs kicking frantically, but couldn’t get enough air to manage more than a pained wheeze. There was a sickening sound of wet tearing and popping as Grund slowly ripped the orc’s head from his body.
The others hooted and roared with approval at the gruesome display. At this point, the entirety of their remaining forces had gathered to watch as Grund dropped the orc’s head and kicked it away, letting the remainder of the corpse fall to the ground. He allowed the noise to die down slightly before shouting over them.
“The next challenger will not receive any such mercies from me! Now come! We go to prepare for battle!”
A roar of approval punctuated his words as he began herding the orcs once again, this time back home. Between Grund’s display, the fading [Battle Lust] and the successful destruction of the Tulok clan, his kin proved a bit easier to manipulate. At least, for now. He had no doubts that they’d forget about all this within a day or two. Then, Grund would be challenged again and have to make another example.
As they ran through the remains of the village, Grund made sure to take them past the rough monolith of black stone that occupied its center. Each orc slapped a hand on it as they passed, flashing gold as they gained whatever levels they had earned throughout this campaign. They visibly swelled in size as their muscles grew to match their new stats. Given that orcs gained experience simply through fighting, he was certain that this group had quickly rocketed to the top of the hierarchy for their clans.
He did the same, not sparing more than a cursory glance at his stat sheet. His stat points were automatically assigned, and he didn’t exactly have a lot of choice when it came to skills, either. But he did notice that he’d earned a new title. Something to look into later.
It didn’t take long before they reached the heart of orcish territory. The others began to split off, streaming toward their own villages and settlements to establish their newfound dominance. Grund let them go. They would be back soon enough—and with more reinforcements as well. Besides, he had matters of his own to tend to.
As the last of the orcs dispersed, Grund changed directions. He began heading toward a more barren section of wilderness, one dotted with stones like jagged teeth instead of huts and campfires. One that the orcs seemed to avoid, though they didn’t understand why.
He used the growing feeling of unease as a guide, pressing further and further into the rocky terrain. Eventually, he rounded a final formation of razor sharp rocks and found what he was looking for. A small tent of stretched hide. Its sides were decorated with colorful depictions of foxes and wolves, as well as a few familiar green figures—though these were not warriors in the heat of battle as one might expect. Instead, they wore robes and carried intricately carved staves as they led armies forth.
The flap opened as Grund stepped forward. A wizened orc female stepped out, her back bowed and her long hair as gray as thunderclouds. Her stooped stature made her look no larger than a goblin. Large wooden disks stretched her earlobes to impossible sizes, while her yellowed tusks were broken and chipped.
She was older than any orc Grund had ever known. Far older. Of course, orcs weren’t exactly known for having the longest of lifespans in the first place. But he’d always gotten the sense that this woman had seen far more years than her race would imply.
She hobbled forward, leaning on a staff of her own. Strings of bone beads clattered with the movement. Grund dropped to one knee. “Elder Onya.”
“Grund.” Elder Onya’s voice was phlegmy and thin. “Morgranth has seen your works, child. You have done well.”
He bowed his head a little deeper. “Thank you, elder. I could not have done it without his wisdom. Or yours.”
A dry chuckle like dry sticks rattling together escaped the woman. “Do not thank me, child. Your blessings are a result of your devotion and works in Morgranth’s name. May the day come where his long-forgotten teachings see the light once more.”
Grund echoed the sentiment as racking coughs sent Elder Onya into a spasm. She thumped her chest, and with one final wheeze, she spat an oddly shaped stone into her palm.
The old woman grunted. “It seems Morgranth has seen fit to bless you once more. Here, child. Take it.”
With that, she thrust the stone into Grund's chest. He accepted the item, heedless of the spittle and phlegm that still coated it.
A fist-sized oval the color of yellowed bone sat in his palm. It was carved in the image of a sleeping fox curled into a ball, its tail tucked beneath its chin. All across its back were carved intricate runes that Grund could not begin to decipher. Flipping it over, he saw that the feet and legs of the fox clung tightly to an axe hidden beneath.
Given the thing’s size, it was no wonder the woman had sounded like she was choking. Grund honestly wasn't certain how she'd managed to avoid choking in the first place. Then again, who was he to question a god?
“Use it well,” she said simply. Then, the ancient orc hobbled back to her tent.
Grund stood there for a moment longer, simply staring at the item. His hand buzzed with the divine power held within. Slowly, a smile stretched across his face. This was a great blessing indeed.
He pulled a piece of twine from his pocket. With a few deft motions of his fingers, Grund securely knotted the cord around the stone and hung it around his neck. Then, he turned to leave. There was much to do before the next assault, after all. And he wanted to be certain that his armies were even greater than those Thak had managed to pull together.
Comments
AnCosm
This guy is almost certainly bringing the orcs into the legion, especially once Quintus gets ahold of him !
Beeees!
Hmm maybe not a reincarnator or isekie. Maybe just an intelligence class that has mostly been lost in orc society
