Parallel Vol. 4 [LEGACY EDITION]

Chapter 67.2: The War Chief's Decree

The snap, which should have been no more than a small whisper in the loud arena, somehow exploded in the ears of every orc, instantly inducing a deathly silence. The orcs swallowed hard, watching in disbelief as Grimlock's lifeless body slid out of Renark's hands, and then hit the floor with a soft, but thunderous thud.

Renark huffed and stumbled, nearly crashing to the floor from accumulated fatigue. Luckily, his warrior's pride proved stronger, and he managed to hold himself up at the last moment. The orc trembled, gaze dimming as a group of shaman stepped out of the arena and walked towards him.

Seven shamans, each from different tribes, surrounded Renark and Grimlock's bodies, cold gazes examining the corpse. The oldest, and most respected amongst them stepped forward and then crouched in front of Grimlock's body. He murmured a quick chant and then spread his hands over Grimlock.

Renark, and the orcs watched, gazes hot as green mist arose from Renark's body, eventually taking the form of a massive 9 feet tall orc. Every orc in the stadium recognized this ki-image. It was the accumulated souls of the war chiefs, passed on from each war chief to the next.

This image was the reason why the position of Orcish War Chiefs rarely changed hands. Each War Chief was, by design made stronger than the previous, and hence the distance between war chiefs and regular orcs only increased with each generation. Often, it wasn't until a War Chief was in his twilight years, or an anomaly like Renark was born that the position would change hands.

Countless orcs were thus understandably invigorated by the sight of this image, but unfortunately, it would not be theirs to have. Meanwhile, Brilith Loneheart's eyes narrowed, a greedy glint in her eyes as she stared at the image. However, she managed to rein in her desire, whispering to herself as she wrung her hands over her laps, "Not yet."

Seemingly oblivious to the attention the ki-image had garnered, the shamans' chants intensified. As if invigorated by their chants, the ki-image began to erratically sway in place, swelling in size as it did.

Within the shamans' enclosure, Renark's eyes narrowed as he stared at Grimlock's rapidly deteriorating corpse. The corpse's muscles shrunk like something was sucking all the air out of it. The culprit, however, was quite obvious. Renark looked at plumes of green smoke that rose from Grimlock's body and were then absorbed by the ki-image.

Eventually, Grimlock's corpse disintegrated, turning to dust, as the ki-image absorbed the last of its essence. By this point, the ki-image had grown an extra foot taller, and adopted a much more vicious expression, influenced by Grimlock's violent aura.

The shamans worshipped the ki-image with reverence in their eyes, and then walked over to, and surrounded Renark. The champion stood still as the head shaman approached him and then placed a hand on him. Buoyed by the head shaman, the rest of the shamans' chants intensified as they approached the critical point of the ceremony.

Renark glanced up, excitement in his eyes as he watched the ki-image descend towards him. The proud orc stood still, a satisfied smile on his face as the ki-image burst into smoke and then rushed towards him. The green smoke funneled into the orc form his nose, mouth and skin, the rapid force causing the orc to choke and gasp for air as the smoke blocked his airways.

Renark grimaced, eyes watering as he grasped his throat, but no matter how hard he tried, he could no force the smoke out to breathe. Fortunately, or unfortunately, aside from the intense pain in his lungs and throat from being unable to breathe, there did not seem to be any other side-effects. The new aura was somehow keeping him alive as it awaited the rest of the smoke to funnel into the new War-Chief.

A couple of moments later, the last of the smoke finally cleared through Renark's airways. The orc collapsed to a knee, gagging and spurting as he struggled to catch his breath. In his entire life, Renark had never appreciated the simple act of breathing as much as he did at that moment.