(Attendances… plz…)
….
"Huh? A human?!" the masked being squeaked, its voice filled with surprise and suspicion. "How did you get here?!"
Reinhard instantly recognized him. This was the one he'd heard shouting, the one whose manic laughter still echoed in his mind.
This was the puppet master, the one who had set the entire Orc Disaster in motion just to serve the ambitions of a Demon Lord. This was Gelmud.
It was truly, deeply unlucky for the majin that the one person in this world who knew exactly what he was and what he was planning was the one to stumble upon him in this dark corner of the forest.
"Gelmud," Reinhard said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. It wasn't a question; it was a statement of fact.
Gelmud stared at him, his strange masked face tilting in confusion, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. "What?! Huh?! How do you know my name? Don't tell me he sent you after me!"
"I don't care who you work for," Reinhard said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I know what you are doing here, and I know what purpose you are doing it for. So, I'm only going to say this once: surrender, and stop whatever you are doing right now."
Gelmud's panicked confusion instantly boiled over into pure, sputtering rage. "What?! Me, surrender?! To a human?!" He spat the word like it was poison. "So you weren't sent by him. Me! The Great Lord Gelmud, surrendering to you! I don't know what you were thinking, finding me and then saying such ridiculous things! First, those weakling ogres refused my great and generous offer, and now I have to deal with you! This day can't possibly get any worse!"
He raised his cane, a cackling, unhinged laugh escaping him as he prepared to obliterate the foolish human. "Hahahaha! Deathmarch Dance!"
Nothing happened. The air remained still. The leaves didn't even rustle.
"Huh?" Gelmud said, his laugh cutting off abruptly. "What? Deathmarch Dance!"
Still nothing.
"Deathmarch Dance!" he tried again, a clear note of panic entering his voice now. The spell simply wouldn't activate. Confused and growing desperate, he tried something else, something simpler. "Magic Bullet!" he shouted, pointing his cane directly at Reinhard.
Not even a spark.
"If you're trying to use magic," Reinhard said, his voice calm and almost conversational, "don't. It won't work."
"What?! What the hell are you talking about?!" Gelmud shrieked, then began to frantically spam his spells, his voice growing higher and more panicked with each failure.
"Deathmarch Rain!"
Nothing.
"Magic Bullet!"
Still Nothing.
"Deathmarch Rain!"
And nothing once again.
After a few more futile attempts, a profound weakness washed over him, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
He focused on his own magical power, and his non-existent blood ran cold. His reserves, which as a Greater Majin should have been vast, were almost completely empty. It was impossible.
Gelmud sank to one knee, exhausted and utterly baffled. "What happened?" he wheezed. "What did you do to me? Is this an illusion? But how? I'm a Greater Majin! I shouldn't be affected by some low-level illusion!"
Reinhard let out a soft sigh. "Now, will you surrender quietly?" His eyes, previously calm, turned as sharp and cold as steel. "And what did you just say about the ogres?"
The humiliation was too much for Gelmud to bear. A mere human, asking him, the Great Lord Gelmud, to surrender? Unthinkable. He decided to stall, to try and figure out what was happening.
He let out a sneering laugh.
"Hahahaha! Well, what can I tell you? I tried to give them the greatest honor! The honor of being named by me, of serving under me! And what do they do? They refused! They refused me! So now, their stupid little village is probably being trampled by ten thousand marching orcs as we speak! Hahaha!"
As he spoke, he finally deduced what must be happening. The man in front of him had no presence, no magic, nothing.
He had to be a normal human.
Someone else, a powerful third party, must be hiding nearby, using some kind of advanced magic-draining skill on him.
Gelmud gripped his cane, preparing to spin around and launch a surprise attack on this hidden enemy.
But the man was no longer in front of him. He was behind him.
As Gelmud turned, a hand flashed out in a clean, diagonal slash.
The world tilted sideways, his vision grew dim, and he felt a strange, detached sensation as his head was severed from his body by a single, simple hand strike.
"I think that was a 'no,' then," Reinhard said to the falling corpse.
The body of the "Great Lord Gelmud" hit the ground with a dull thump, blood pooling around it in the dirt. Reinhard vanished from the spot, his next destination already clear in his mind.
The sun had set; he had to move fast. He shot through the forest like a beam of white light, a blur of motion that even the sharpest eyes would miss.
…
The Ogre village was under attack.
Normally, a small band of orcs would be no match for the powerful and proud ogres. But this was not a small band.
This was an army, a horde, fully equipped with heavy armor and brutal weapons, a tide of rage that crashed against their homes.
For every orc an ogre cut down, two more took its place, their eyes burning with a strange, unnatural hunger.
They were being overwhelmed by sheer, unending numbers. The orcs were even devouring their own dead, and the ogres they managed to kill, growing stronger and more frenzied with each gruesome bite.
The pink-haired ogre princess ran, her heart pounding with terror. An orc in heavy, spiked armor was chasing her, its heavy footsteps shaking the ground, its weapon raised, its eyes burning with a singular, hungry focus.
Her foot stumbled on a rock, falling hard to the ground. She looked back and saw the orc bearing down on her, its massive blade rising high, preparing to fall and end her life.
She closed her eyes, and with her last breath, screamed the only name she could think of, a desperate plea for anything... she shouted.
"BROTHER!"
Her brother didn't come.
But someone else did.
Like a shooting star falling from the sky, a figure dropped from the sky, landing silently between the princess and the charging orc.
A single, almost invisible line of light appeared on the orc's body, and then it, along with its heavy iron armor, split cleanly in two, the two halves falling straight to the ground on either side of the newcomer.
The ogre princess, who had been bracing for the killing blow, felt nothing. She slowly opened her eyes and saw a tall, red-haired man in an immaculate white knight's uniform standing over her, his back to her.
His hair and white knight uniform ruffled even when there was no wind to do that.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice calm and steady, carrying a peaceful tone in the surrounding chaos of battle.
….
A/N: So, How was it?! Dont forget to send Power Stones…
Next two chapters are already on my discord.
Melatonin, spawn and many more on my discord … thanks for beta reading this fic and not to mention suggestions too.
Hoped you all liked the chapter and all.
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