Meanwhile in another part of the forest, the War Chief had just arrived at his first stop. Still silent still the epitome of calm yet nurtured fury. The War Chief had ‘calmly’ landed amongst a group of Orcs.

  A group of Orcs who had not moved from their location for the past few hours due to the first visit of the War Chief when he first passed through the area in his effort to reach the location of the Serpent.

  The Orcs themselves were fearing for their lives in the current moment. The anger of the War Chief was extremely evident on his first visit, since he immediately started yelling about the foolish behavior of Orkush, and he didn’t waste any time slamming his head into the ground before promptly leaving.

  But this time was different.

  They could feel it.

  Orkush could feel it even more so.

  He knew more about the behaviors of the War Chief than the rest of the rank and file Orcs. He knew the War Chief essentially had levels to his anger, and while the first few of them were quick to be reached and didn’t quite differentiate from each other, with the only thing that really set them apart was just how much the War Chief yelled or punished them, but there was a phase that none of the upper echelon of the Orcs wanted to see. It is one that is rarely surfaced.

  Yet it is always waiting.

  Slumbering with both eagerness and unwillingness at the same time.

  It was the peak of the anger of the War Chief.

  It was when his behavior is the most refined, yet also unpredictable.

  Though despite the unpredictability of the War Chief’s actions at the moment, Orkush knew of one thing that would always take place.

  Death.

  Death would sweep through wherever the War Chief decided to lay his fury.

  He was called the War Chief for a reason.

  It was not an empty title.

  Among Orcs he was the epitome of war. Their very own strategist, slaughterer, conqueror, and everything else. It was him who embodied and truly lived any and everything that had to deal with war.

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  But when he reached the peak of his anger, there was one facet of war that came to the forefront before anything else.

  Slaughter.

  Unbridled and unchecked slaughter.

  Orkush, who was perhaps the most fearful of dying after the first visit of the War Chief, stood with back straight and his mind clear of all doubts.

  His fear hadn’t been erased, but he now knew it was no longer about fearing a lengthy time in the pits. His only worry would be at what point his death came. In Orkush’s mind, it was not a question of ‘If’ death would come, but simply a matter of when. Death would come for him.

  Once he accepted his line of reasoning, it was easier to somewhat calm trembling of his heart, and the unwillingness filling his bones.

  It was then the War Chief spoke.

  A voice that lacked the expected wrath and finely matched the calmness of his outward appearance.

  “Return. Immediately.”

  No one asked any questions, no one hesitated. The words of the War Chief were met with nothing but action. All of the Orcs present simply turned around from their current position and began marching back with haste.

  Moving much faster than when Orkush was pushing them now that gaze of the War Chief was at their backs.

  Only…it wasn’t.

  The War Chief had long since vanished from his position, but no Orc was brave enough to turn to check if he was still there. So, they marched on as if he was right behind them the entire time.

  …

  A few moments later, the War Chief reappeared in front of a different army. The one that entered the forest with him.

  The leaders of that force immediately recognized the shift in demeanor of the War Chief and a solemn mood descended on the group.

  They all collectively wondered just what could have caused his anger to reach such a point, but no one dared to ask.

  Eventually the War Chief spoke, and the same scene from previously played itself out.

  The Orcs were ordered to return and every single one of them immediately turned back towards the way they came from and promptly began moving to the exit of the forest.

  The War Chief vanished once more, reappearing outside of the forest where he stood silently for hours.

  Watching the forest.

  The second group soon made it out and the War Chief left them with the orders to wait for the first group and then return back to Orc Lands.

  After saying his piece, the War Chief vanished again, only this time his destination wasn’t the forest, or even moving deeper into the Iris River Plains.

  It was towards the mountains themselves.

  The massive mountain range that stretched from deep within the forest, to will into the Iris River Plains. Essentially acting as a natural border for whatever was on the other side.

  The War Chief eventually reached the foot of the mountains, and after taking a glance upwards, he quickly found the spot he was looking for and began scaling the mountain before him.

  It didn’t take him very long to reach the spot he sought. It was essentially a large cave opening seemingly carved into the mountain by special means.

  The cave was large, though some light shone through, the deeper parts of the cave were as dark as it was large.

  The War Chief walked in for a few steps before he stopped out of nowhere, casting a narrow gaze into the darkness.

  He hadn’t said anything yet, but a voice could be heard coming from the darkness of the cave.

  “Why have you come here?”

  “To strike a deal.”

  The words of the Orc were met with silence for a few moments, before powerful steps sounded out and very quickly a massive talon stepped out from the darkness.

  “What kind of deal?”

  “The kind that kills.”

  “…Tell me more.”