Parallel (A Virtual Gamer's Story) [Vol.1 - Vol.4 Complete]

Chapter 165: Bloody Morning

10 Minutes Earlier...

Rhatheth, Daggerfall.

14th Banem, 1092.

A flock of migrating birds gently flew over Daggerfall's tropical grasslands. Every year, they would relocate to Ederwood's tropical rainforests to escape Markoth's harsh cold. Then, when the month of Banem arrived, they would begin the long journey back home. Their migratory path took them through the tropical grasslands of Daggerfall, a region these migratory birds did not fancy because of its lack of trees.

"Hahaha! Grovitch, you shit stain! You bagged yourself a big one!"

Euphoric laughter booming across the hated land drew the flock's attention. The birds looked down, but then instantly increased their speed when they spotted the cluster of green-skinned creatures walking across the field. Within moments, no traces remained in the vicinity.

On the ground, the laughter was revealed to have originated from one of two orc hunting parties on their way back from their latest expedition. The hulking green masses trekked alongside their giant boar mounts, laughing as they compared the newest catch against the other party's. This mission had lasted an entire week. That was a week spent scouring for prey during the day and sleeping under the stars at night. The Orcs missed their warm straw beds. They could not wait to return home and go several rounds with their women.

Daggerfall's grasslands lacked the widespread exotic beasts found in the region. The land's hot and humid climate, coupled with its sparse rainfall, meant few creatures chose this place as their home. However, the abundant grasslands made it a haven for herbivores. The Orcs made this place their home for centuries as they sought to escape the world's eyes.

Several millennia had passed since Ferulic designed the first Orcs from the vilest of humish desires. When they were first created, Orcs knew nothing but slaughter and mayhem, and they did indeed plunge the world into chaos, which garnered much hatred from other humes.

Fortunately, the passing of centuries continually diluted the madness within the Orkish bloodline. Roughly one-thousand years to this day, a mysterious man helped the Orcs purify their bloodline. This action directly promoted the Orcs from being labeled as savages on the levels of kobolds to a sentient race that could take their place next to the other humes.

However, the world was not ready to forgive the orcs for their past crimes just because they had become sentient creatures. If anything, the orcs' sentience meant they could finally get to enjoy watching the orcs wallow in pain at losing their loved ones. But as fate would have it, the orcs did not lose their strength or battle lust even after turning sentient.

The orcs were all too happy to engage the other races in a prolonged war that resulted in heavy losses on all sides. Eventually, the world leaders realized the pointlessness of the bloodshed and came to an agreement with the orcs. Daggerfall's lands were ceded to the orcs in return for the orcs' promise to never step out of it.

The orcs agreed to this arrangement. The entire Orkish tribe packed up and moved to Daggerfall. Upon arriving at the land, they split up into dozens of nomadic tribes spread across the country. These nomadic tribes would sometimes run into each other on the grasslands, and be forced to contest over a hunting ground.

In the past, both tribes would fight until one was utterly routed. The new tradition, however, was that a few selected individuals from each tribe would do battle. The winners would claim the hunting grounds while the losers would have to continue searching for a new hunting ground.

This way, the orkish tribes ensured their fighting prowess did not decline despite the relative peace.

The village of Rhatheth was one such nomadic village. The orcs walked alongside their giant boar mounts as they laughed and boasted about the looks of ecstasy on their women's faces and the loud cries of pleasure that would make their neighbors jealous. Each orc claimed he was the manliest 'man' amongst the group, with some going so far as to display their excellent 'thrusting' game.