First Light of a New Age

Chapter 87: WAAAAAAGGGGHH!!!

Inside the massive crater of a fallen meteorite, Goreaxe Strurruilk, the Orc Warboss lounged on his throne of bones and skulls. The air was thick with the stench of blood with the spoils of countless battles won by brute force and savagery.

Before him, a small, trembling Goblin approached. His crooked, spindly fingers twisted nervously as his large, bulbous eyes darted around the chamber and glanced at the towering trophies of past victories before finally clearing his throat.

"Boss! Big news, big news!" squeaked the Goblin, bowing so low his nose almost touched the ground. "'Da Tiny Feet gitz... Dey be fightin' da whole race. A big War!! Massive War!!"

The Orc Warboss leaned forward, his thick fingers tightening around the armrests of his throne, causing bones to creak and crack under his grip. His massive tusks gleamed under the dim light of torches made from the charred bones of his enemies.

"War... and I wasn't told?" His voice was a deep, rumbling growl, more like the distant roar of thunder than anything human. His rage began to build and bubbled like magma beneath the surface. "An' I wasn't invited?"

The Goblin shrank back and shivered as the Warboss became enraged as the very air around them thickened with tension. The throne room shook, and dust fell from the cavern ceiling as the Warboss stood up, towering over the Goblin greatly like an elephant over a dog and his fist crashed into the ground, sending cracks spiraling out across the stone floor.

His roar exploded from his chest like a storm unleashed, a sound so deafening it echoed across the continent. Every Orc, from the smallest grunt to the fiercest chieftain, heard the Warboss's fury.

It was a war cry, a signal, the next Green Tide was coming. Orc warbands across the land would gather, unite, and sweep across the world like a wave of destruction.

"Prepare for 'da great WAGHHHH!!" His voice boomed, shaking the very bones of his throne. "How dare dese Soft Skins fight each otha without me? Den as a gift, we shall unite all da Clans an joined da party uninvitingly! WE SHALL MAKE 'DA WORLD GREEN AGAIN!!"

The Goblin, now visibly trembling but managing a sly grin, glanced up. "Uh, boss... wot about 'da weapons we found on dat new little land?"

The Warboss paused, his rage giving way to a savage gleam in his eyes. His lips curled into a bloodthirsty smile as he recalled the strange and powerful weapons scavenged from the land they had invaded not long ago. Even though Jiak's warband had been wiped out, a few of his Grunts had returned with some strange artifacts, and the moment they demonstrated its power, he absolutely loved it.

But none of the orcs remembered the island's location. Those who had forgotten had been beaten senseless and stripped of all their teeth as punishment.

"Did yer all make more?" the Warboss asked hungrily.

The Goblin's grin widened, revealing his sharp, crooked teeth and nodded eagerly. "Oh, we make more uv 'em, boss. All uv 'em."

Goreaxe let out a guttural chuckle and clenched his fists in anticipation. "Gud... very gud." He bared his tusks and his eyes burned with the promise of bloodshed. "We're gonna showz dese soft skins... an' all uv 'em, wot real WAAAGH! looks like!"

With one final, bone-shattering roar, the Warboss made his declaration. The Green Tide was coming, and this time, nothing would stand in its way.

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1st Year of God, Wednesday, 3rd Week, Month Of Jonah.

Months had passed since the war in the Third Civilization Zone erupted, a conflict that was supposed to bring great advantage to the Austronesian People's Empire. But despite the promised gains, the lives of several soldiers have been endangered. The order to retreat should have been given much earlier. Unfortunately, the Empire's overly cautious approach and hesitance to act had left several groups of special operations soldiers stranded deep within enemy lines in the lands now occupied by the Iron Kingdom.