North of the Blackstone Mountains, in the southern reaches of the Ugo Steppe, along the banks of the Bindler River.
"It hurts so much..."
"Ahhh!"
"D-damn Imperials... By All-Father Gruumsh above, my leg..."
"Save me, my lord, please save me! Don't leave me here!"
Beside the murmuring river, wounded soldiers groaned in agony everywhere, their flowing blood once again staining the river red.
Some of these orcs had lost both legs to artillery fire, while others had been horribly burned by raging flames. Still others had half of their bodies charred black, merely clinging to their dying breaths.
The shamans of the tribe moved about, tending to those with light injuries by applying herbs and casting spore sorcery, while those mortally wounded were left entirely to their fate.
The moment anyone died, the orcs would callously cast their corpse into the river, leaving them to become part of the Bindler River. There were even severely wounded orcs who had lost consciousness but were still breathing who were pushed into the river as well.
This behavior conformed strictly to the tenets of Gruumsh: orcs were eternal warriors, and all those who were sick, weak, crippled, or unfit for war were to be purged.
"All-Father above..."
"Are we really destined only to die here?"
Watching corpse after corpse—and even still-living kin—cast into the river, the orcs could not help but feel a chilling sorrow for their own kind's fate, and the surrounding atmosphere grew increasingly suffocating and despairing.
Meanwhile, in a hidden alcove of the valley, the chieftains of various clans—including the Black Crow, Frostwolf, and Rock Lizard clans—had gathered together, holding a secret council.
"Are we truly going to do this? Solo..." The chieftain of the Rock Lizard Clan remained somewhat hesitant. After all, he had witnessed Solo's prowess with his own eyes.
After obtaining that mysterious "boon," Solo's strength was no longer inferior to the former Great Chieftain Batu's.
"What is there to fear? Would he dare risk the wrath of the entire race and kill every single one of us?" the chieftain of the Black Crow Clan sneered.
The chieftain of the Frostwolf Clan stepped forward even further, speaking plainly without reservation: "We must leave the Red Blood Tribe! If things continue like this, the elites of our respective clans will only be ground away by them to the last!
"After Lord Batu's death, the Red Blood Tribe ceased to exist in anything but name! Only he was fit to lead us orcs to conquer the world!"
The Frostwolf Clan and Black Crow Clan had a longstanding enmity spanning generations of blood feuds, yet at this moment, they stood together on a rare unified front.
Solo had bred those lesser orcs and allowed those lunatics, who were unworthy of even being called "orcs," to plunder every last resource on the Ugo Steppe, which had already provoked bitter resentment among the clan chieftains.
Before this war began, they had still clung to a sliver of hope in Solo and had swallowed their grievances for the broader interests of the orc race, remaining within the Red Blood Tribe.
Yet after this war concluded with the total rout of the orcs and the lesser orcs slaughtered down to the last, these clan chieftains could no longer endure it. The Red Blood Tribe—especially that Chieftain Solo—had pushed them far too far!
They wanted to reclaim their clans' autonomy!
They wanted to return to the Ugo Steppe, slaughter all those greedy lesser orcs, and take back their clans' pastures and hunting grounds!
"That's right! Solo's mind has already been corrupted by the power of those lesser orcs. He is no longer worthy to be our chieftain."
"I even suspect... that bizarre power used to create those lesser orcs was never bestowed by the All-Father at all! Solo must have sacrificed our kin and traded with some alien entity to obtain it!"
"He is insulting the All-Father! Insulting the great orc race!"
"Before Lord Batu fell, Solo was merely a general within the Red Blood Tribe! What right does he have to order us clan chieftains around?"
"He doesn't deserve it! That bastard depleted the steppe's resources and churned out millions of pieces of trash, and what came of it? We didn't even touch the walls of Evindeldan!"
"Solo no longer deserves to be called an orc! He is the chieftain of the lesser orcs, not ours!"
In an instant, the twenty-odd clan chieftains present were filled with righteous indignation, beating their chests and stamping their feet, venting their fury and hatred toward the Red Blood Tribe and Chieftain Solo, wishing nothing more than to run him through with blades.
A primitive form of democracy existed within the orc race. Only an orc acknowledged by all the clan chieftains had the right to become the sovereign of all orcs—the so-called "Great Chieftain."
Centuries ago, a Great Chieftain had incurred public outrage and was voted into exile by the collective orcs of every clan, and that deposed chieftain eventually froze to death in the wilderness.
Right now, while the clan chieftains had no way to exile Solo, they could lead their respective tribes away from the Red Blood Tribe, reducing this so-called "Great Chieftain" to a commander with no troops.
Sak, chieftain of the Frostwolf Clan, raised his weapon high and spoke in a deep voice: "Brothers, over the coming days, we will return to contact our tribes and launch a coordinated uprising at dawn in three days.
"Remember, split into over a dozen routes and flee in different directions so he cannot muster the strength to pin us down.
"When that time comes, this so-called Red Blood Tribe... heh, can be left to Solo and his mongrel offspring."
The chieftain of the Earth Beast Clan clapped his hands in delight. "Right, let's do it! I said it long ago—those greedy, stupid mongrels don't deserve to walk beside us!"
"Hahahaha! Since Solo and Moke love those lesser orcs so much, let them spend the rest of their lives with those mongrels!"
The clan chieftains rested their hands on their hips and burst into laughter. They had long grown sick of hiding and skulking around, and they had had quite enough of Solo's abuse and insults.
Sak looked around, a vicious glint in his eyes. "By the way, not a word of this can leak out. If anyone dares snitch to Solo... I'll make him wish he were dead!"
*Clap, clap, clap!*
Suddenly, applause echoed from above the clan chieftains' heads, followed by a familiar voice: "You lot really have given me quite a pleasant surprise!"
The tone began with biting sarcasm before descending into uncontrollable rage and venom: "Honored traitors of the orc race!"
Hearing that voice, Sak's expression twisted violently, draining of all color. He slowly looked up, his lips trembling as he uttered the name: "S-Solo, what are you doing here?"
"What?!"
"Damn it! When did he arrive?!"
"L-Look up! He's been here the whole time!" that chieftain's voice cracked with a sob.
The orcs looked up one after another. Solo stood atop the cliff, looking down on them with a ferocious sneer, blue veins bulging on his forehead. Murderous intent filled his cloudy eyes, his burly frame standing over six meters tall, looming like a small mountain.
Beside him stood two hulking, massive green-skinned orcs, each nearly five meters tall. Clad in heavy armor pieced together from various salvaged parts, they wore razor-sharp steel claws on their hands and sinister grins on their faces.
These towering orcs stood at the crest of the valley, casting colossal shadows that enveloped several of the clan chieftains below.
"C-Chieftain Solo..."
"You misunderstand!"
"Yes, you must have misheard! How could we possibly be traitors?"
A chorus of clattering echoed as weapons slipped from the clan chieftains' hands and struck the ground. They looked at each other in utter shock and panic.
The moment Solo revealed himself, under that overwhelming aura of crushing might, the chieftains who had just been howling with righteous fury seemed to have had their spines shattered, entirely unable to stand tall.
Only Sak of the Frostwolf Clan refused to yield.
Though his face was pale and drained of all color, his trembling hands gripped his spear tightly. Straining to prop himself up, he demanded, "S-Solo, what right do you have to be the Great Chieftain?"
"Y-You hollowed out the entire Ugo Steppe to churn out millions of lesser orcs, yet you were routed step by step by the Cinder Empire! You're not worthy—"
*Whoosh—*
First came the sonic crack of tearing air, followed by the crisp, sickening squelch of punctured flesh and shattered bone.
Sak's words had struck Solo's rawest nerve. In a fit of exasperated fury, the Great Chieftain hurled the spear from his hand straight at Sak.
Blood erupted in a torrent. The spear impaled the orc from the crown of his head straight through his pelvis, burying its tip deep into the rock behind him.
The chieftain of the Frostwolf Clan, the renowned orc fighter Sak, had been pinned dead against the wall by Solo's casual throw!
Sak died with his eyes wide open. His corpse leaned back, staring at Solo in sheer disbelief; until his final breath, he had never believed that Solo would truly dare to kill him.
For a moment, the valley fell as quiet as a graveyard. Only after a long silence did murmurs break out.
"Sak... is dead."
"He's dead."
"Pinned to the rock, no less."
That was Sak, chieftain of the Frostwolf Clan! He commanded over a thousand worg cavalry, and even Batu had shown him great respect, treating him with the deference due an elder.
Yet now, Solo had killed him just like that? As easily and nonchalantly as slaughtering a chicken?
In an instant, an overwhelming terror engulfed the hearts of every clan chieftain in the valley. The rules passed down for thousands of years seemed on the verge of being shattered...
"Great Chieftain, I am innocent! I was led astray by them!"
"I had no intention of rebelling either! It... it was Sak! That dead bastard brought it up! You must judge rightly—I have been giving my life in service to the orc race!"
"Great Chieftain, spare me! Our Jackdaw Clan is willing to dedicate everything to pledge our loyalty to you!"
Cries and pleas for mercy resounded across the valley. Before Sak's blood-soaked corpse, these clan chieftains had lost every scrap of their former glory, cowering like wild dogs begging with wagging tails.
The chieftain of the Rock Lizard Clan even pressed his entire body flat against the ground, weeping and prostrating repeatedly, heedless of the blood smearing his forehead.
Solo looked down upon them, his eyes brimming with disgust and contempt.
The more these chieftains begged, the more Solo despised them, and the more he longed to wipe them out completely.
He spoke in a cold, indifferent tone: "Just now, Sak questioned what right I have to be the Great Chieftain of the Red Blood Tribe. I believe the answer is clear enough now."
Solo shook his fist, which was larger than a normal man's skull, and grinned savagely. "By this! I alone can slaughter every last one of you. Isn't that reason enough?"
"E-Enough!"
"More than enough!"
The clan chieftains in the valley nodded in frantic agreement, their faces plastered with humility and fawning obedience, desperate only to preserve their lives.
After all, Sak's corpse was still warm, fresh blood still dripping from it.
Yet Solo paid no heed to their reactions, continuing, "The great All-Father Gruumsh once said: if you wish to die an early death, show weakness to others, for—the weak do not deserve to walk upon this earth."
*Boom!*
Solo leapt down from the cliff's edge, shaking the earth and sending dust flying, freezing the many chieftains stiff in terror, unable to move.
He gripped the spear plunged into the top of Sak's skull and pulled it free with a slight tug.
Instantly, warm blood and brain matter geysered forth, splattering across Solo's face and body. Yet he seemed utterly blind to it, indifferent, merely glaring at the clan chieftains.
Solo looked around. The blood on his face resembled some bizarre, bloody, and arcane totem.
"You lack the strength, yet you dared to plot treason against the Red Blood Tribe. Caught by me, you chose not to resist, but to kneel and beg for mercy. Do you truly believe... you are fit to live?"
"What?!"
"Do you intend to kill everyone?!"
"Solo, you've gone too far! If you kill us, the Red Blood Tribe will tear itself apart!"
"Sak is already dead! We can still live in peace! Do not push us to the brink!"
Instantly, the orcs in the valley turned pale with horror, their faces involuntarily contorting with despair, panic, and fury.
Someone even broke into curses: "Solo! If all the clans unite, even if you are a true favored of God, you will not escape death!"
Yet Solo turned and walked straight out of the valley without looking back, merely barking a low order: "Purge these traitors clean."
"Yes, Great Chieftain."
"We love doin' this sort of work!"
Under the terrified gazes of the clan chieftains, the two hulking, massive green-skinned orcs atop the cliff laughed maniacally and leapt down.
"W-What are you doing?!"
"Mongrels! Do you dare turn on your masters?! In the name of pureblood orcs, I order you to get lost!"
"Stay away from me!"
The chieftains in the valley desperately mustered what bluster they had left, shouting furiously as though that could drive the monsters away.
Yet the two green-skinned orcs remained completely unmoved. Grinning viciously, they swung their steel claws. Flashes of white light sliced through the air, accompanied by spurting blood and severed limbs flying in every direction.
Before long, the valley turned into a bloody slaughterhouse. Blood soaked the rocky walls, and the corpses of the clan chieftains littered the ground. Bathed in blood from head to toe, the two orcs knelt behind Solo.
"Great Chieftain, we've slaughtered every last one of those old fogies."
"Felt bloody good!"
These two green-skinned orcs were new orc bosses handpicked by Solo, named Garlon and Mond. Both were brutes with a ravenous thirst for slaughter.
Solo nodded nonchalantly, treating the massacre as nothing more than a trivial matter: "Sever their heads and hang them outside the tents. Let us see how the warriors of those clans react.
"If anyone shows signs of rebellion, kill them all. In any case... they are merely flawed remnants of an old era."
Hearing that they could kill again, the two orc bosses were overjoyed and hastily accepted the delightful task.
Solo turned his head, looked at the pile of corpses, and added faintly, "By the way, cast their bodies into the Mother River.
"Though they were weak cowards, they were indeed considerably stronger than ordinary orcs. Using them as nourishment—we should be able to cultivate even stronger, larger orcs."
"Yes, Great Chieftain!"
The two orc bosses responded in unison, then gleefully set about gathering the mutilated remains, eager to prepare for their next feast of slaughter.
Meanwhile, Solo raised his head to gaze southward once more, his eyes dripping with venomous hatred: "Just you wait, Cinder Empire. That day is not far off..."
Chapter 673