Under the night sky, in The Great Forest Land, the homeland of the Orcs, a slender young girl looked toward the west, sensing a familiar yet unfamiliar presence coming from that direction.
"Could it be... the aura of that axe?" She glanced at the old Orc beside her, who lifted his head, looked westward, and then sighed, "It’s that axe."
In the old era, when Orcs were fragmented and had not yet formed an alliance, legends spoke of some who wished to unite the various Orc clans with their strength. Among them emerged a great warrior, a bear person named Bill, tall and fierce, wielding a battle axe called The Ripper.
But he preferred to call it Blood Roar.
Blood symbolized death, and the roar symbolized glory.
He was a great warrior, gathering more than half of the Orc clans under his battle flag. If not for the chaotic invasion, he might have become the king of the Orc kingdom, the eternal chosen champion of the Goddess of Nature.
But he failed. During the chaotic invasion, his army faced the legions of the Blood God, everyone fighting until their last moment.
He and his army ultimately became an army of wraiths, and the weapon vanished without a trace.
"Almost seven hundred years now... Why would that axe appear there?" The old Orc wondered, puzzled, "That’s the world of humans... it seems we must adjust our previous plans, Ollie."
The slender girl turned, saluting the old Orc: "Chieftain, what are your orders?"
"I was thinking of sending Mina to Carterburg to meet that child, and Carterburg is also in that direction... you go. See who has lifted that axe, see if they have earned its recognition. If not, we must take it back." The old man fell silent, then continued, "You don’t need to concern yourself with retrieving it, that task will be left to others. You just need to locate the axe, confirm it, and then, go meet the child in Carterburg."
"But you said before that if Mina saw her, it could be an opportunity for Mina, didn’t you?"
"But she won’t be back in The Great Forest Land for another half year, and a Sage among other races has said, ’Time waits for no one.’" The old Orc stretched out his hand and patted the young girl’s head, "Go, my child, everyone must face their Fate, Mina is no exception, neither are you."
"What’s that?" Old Hoffman was somewhat startled—he could feel the aura coming from the south, inducing palpitations only the presence of a very evil creature could bring.
No, compared to it, Chaos’s Prince is just a dog without a leash.
It is the Great Demon.
Old Hoffman gazed in the direction of the south, knowing Malin was there. If Malin encountered this monster, he feared the worst for him.
Old Hoffman wanted to rush over, but duty prevented his departure, and as Old Bill also approached with a troubled expression, looking in that direction, Hoffman felt the aura disappear.
Like tears lost in the rain.
No more sensation, no more palpitations, and what followed was an aura that surprised them—the distinctive aura of a legendary weapon.
It seemed angry about something, and it seemed to be roaring, as if calling out to its master.
"Chaos’s Great Demon has left behind a legendary weapon?" Old Hoffman asked his old friend, feeling the world had become somewhat incomprehensible.
"How should I know?" Constance responded, eyes widening, "It’s cheering."
Yes, it was cheering, as if it had found a new master, as if returning to the most wonderful times it could recall.
Then, from the south came a boisterous cheer, making the two elders furrow their brows, until finally Old Hoffman motioned, "Go south and see what’s happening."
"No problem, Your Excellency." The gnome, serving as a Messenger, nodded and then quickly disappeared with his team into the alleyway.
"Why do we have to fight to the death for humans?" grumbled the bear person behind the street fortress, while his Panthera friend patted his shoulder, "Our current enemy is Chaos, and they won’t spare you just because you don’t look human, buddy."
The bear person snorted—he understood, but as a traveler, he hated trouble, and in this human world, his size made it hard for him to hide.
Have you ever seen a street fortress half your size?
Not before, but now he had.
The bear person sadly concealed himself, awaiting the next charge of Chaos—they, along with some humans, were protecting hundreds of young children in this tiny courtyard, part of a human world school within a district where humans and Orcs lived side by side, including children from both races.
To prevent warriors among the Orcs from accidentally smashing walls or something else with a powerful punch, there were sturdy walls and buildings, along with firearms and weapons provided by humans, and a skillful armorer who quickly made a batch of mail armor for the Orcs. They didn’t need to worry about Chaotic Believers breaching their defenses.
The bear person was not afraid of the Chaotic Warriors coming; his strength was great, and most Chaotic Warriors probably couldn’t match him. The only thing he feared was the Chaotic Sorcerer.
Being naturally weak in spell formations, the bear person was already doing well to recognize whether a gesture was just a gesture or a casting Sigil.