The moment Green saw the Orc High Shaman, he knew the script he had originally envisioned had hit a snag.
But he didn’t mind much.
If a legendary tale is to endure, it cannot follow a predetermined plot to the letter. People crave the thrill of sweeping epics and brilliant reversals, not a rote recitation of propaganda.
The Orc High Shaman was indeed excellent writing material.
Green raised his quill, scratching new lines onto the parchment scroll.
“The High Shaman?”
Beside him, Andy’s face paled. Although the man before him was the very object of the revenge he dreamed of day and night, the actual sight of him in the flesh made Andy’s skin crawl with goosebumps.
“Why… why are you here?”
Andy took a deep breath, his heart no longer in a state to manipulate the magic-tech equipment in his hands. The High Shaman’s appearance here meant only one thing—their original plan had somehow been leaked long ago.
“I remember you.” The High Shaman naturally ignored Andy’s pained question, merely sizing him up with cold, glass-like eyes. “It was a long time ago. In the forest. You and that foolish fellow nearly threw your lives away just to save a bunch of worthless trash.”
The forest.
A sharp pang of pain shot through Andy’s heart.
He knew exactly what “forest” the Shaman was referring to. Back then, he had watched with his own eyes as this seemingly unremarkable, withered old man slaughtered his subordinates—men who had been like brothers to him—one by one.
“Oh, wait.” As if recalling something amusing, the High Shaman shook his head. “I remember now. You were the only one who escaped with your life. Your stubborn old superior… I heard that after he crawled back in disgrace, he was court-martialed as a deserter?”
Deserter…
Whoosh—
Fragmented images surfaced in Andy’s mind.
In the dense woods, the Old Commander stood alone, roaring at the sky, his broadsword a blur as he cut down the Orc warriors who surged around him like a tide.
The muddy soil, the morning dew, the thick fog—all these sensations interlaced into a hazy picture.
And then… and then…
Thud.
Andy remembered fighting by the Old Commander’s side before being slammed to the ground by the current Orc hero, Love. Noticing this, the old General let out a mighty roar and lunged forward, forcing Love back with a single hand.
But in the split second the General turned his head, the High Shaman struck. A staff coated in venom pierced the General’s chest, leaving a lethal wound beyond any cure…
What happened next?
The memories that should have been clear plunged into darkness at that point.
“Strictly speaking, your court-martial spoke the truth. You did run away in the end, didn’t you?”
The High Shaman’s poisonous voice snapped Andy back to the present.
“Despite all your grand talk about the Eighth Legion never giving up and never leaving a brother behind… when your lives were truly on the line, you chose to run.”
A trace of reminiscence flickered in the Shaman’s eyes. “You left behind your mangled comrades and fallen brothers, and you scurried away like rats.”
Yes. Yes, it’s true.
He had run away at the very end.
“Chief of Staff, save me! I… I really don’t want to die…”
The desperate screams of a soldier with a gaping hole in his chest, white bone visible through the gore. Andy still remembered that face—the face of a man who, before the battle, had boasted about finally marrying a good wife.
Andy hadn’t stopped running.
“Go back, Andy. We must make it back alive.”
The Old Commander’s raspy voice had said, “We were played from the start. This ambush was a conspiracy. We have to live, Andy, because only by surviving can we… can we have our revenge!”
And so, Andy had betrayed everything he once believed in.
Honor, courage, brotherhood.
He and the Old Commander survived, having abandoned their men in a manner both shameful and pathetic. Consequently, they were stripped of everything in the subsequent court-martial.
“What’s wrong, human?” the High Shaman’s voice rang out again, sounding as if he were toying with a doomed prey. He took his time staring at Green and Andy, savoring their unresponsive faces.
“If you don’t speak, I’ll take that as a ‘yes’?”
The High Shaman’s staff was as pristine as new, showing no signs of the passage of time. “How does it feel to live a life of ignoble ease after abandoning your brothers? Not very pleasant, I imagine. Since that’s the case, why return now to walk straight into my net?”
Andy did not rise to the provocation.
Taking a deep breath, he stood tall and faced the High Shaman—the darkness he had been afraid to confront in countless midnight nightmares.
“Back then, I did run away.”
Grit teeth, Andy’s gaze was no longer wavering. He stepped resolutely in front of Green. “But this time, I will not run. On the contrary… I am going to take all the humiliation you inflicted upon us and the Eighth Legion, and I will return it to you tenfold!”
Zzzzt!
The magic-tech equipment hummed once more.
“Die!” Andy struck. No longer hiding the aura of a Legendary powerhouse, a majestic surge of magic enveloped the warehouse. The aides and MPs surrounding the Shaman were immediately knocked off balance by the sheer force.
“Do you see, my dear subordinates?” The High Shaman wiped the mocking smile from his face and spoke to his aides with gravity. “With just a few words, a Legendary powerhouse loses his composure and launches a blind, irrational attack… This is the power of a stratagem.”
“But, Your Excellency High Shaman.”
The MP beside him, though shocked by Andy’s magic, felt reassured by the presence of a peak Legend like the Shaman. He asked curiously, “With your strength, is it necessary to use such complex methods? Wouldn’t it be easier to just finish them off?”
“Indeed, Your Excellency. These despicable human tactics…” The Orc aide added with some hesitation, “We are the glorious Chosen of the War God. How can we…”
“Pedantic!” the High Shaman barked. “The times have changed. Years ago, our ancestors thought exactly as you do—and that is why they were driven back time and again by the humans’ ridiculous, shallow tricks, to the point where our nation nearly perished.”
“But ever since we began using the humans’ own despicable conspiracies against them…”
The Shaman recalled the Eighth Legion’s desperate retreat in the forest and spoke with immense satisfaction. “What did we gain? A glorious victory that was once unthinkable.”
“A conspiracy itself is not wrong. What matters is the stance of the user. As long as it serves the interests of our Kingdom, what do ‘morality’ or ‘honor’ matter?”
The High Shaman spoke his innermost convictions.
“…” The Orc aide and the MP fell silent simultaneously.
“The times truly have changed. We cannot stop the changes destined to happen; we can only embrace them. Otherwise, that person’s fate shall be your example.”
Noticing the lingering hesitation on his subordinates’ faces, the High Shaman issued a cold threat.
That person?
Though he didn’t state the name, the aide and MP were clever enough to figure it out.
General Love.
“I understand, my Lord!” they answered in unison.
“Good, good. I knew I didn’t misjudge you.” The High Shaman nodded with satisfaction. “Yes, my dear subordinates. Now, allow me to show you just how powerful a stratagem can be.”
Bam!
The High Shaman swung his staff with force.
Andy, who had charged forward, was violently repelled. He coughed, scarlet blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. “Cough… cough!”
“My Lord, you mean…?” The Orc aide seemed to realize something, looking up in shock.
“You are indeed clever.” Certain of his victory, the Shaman ignored Andy and Green. “General Love will die tonight at the hands of human assassins. And the culprits…”
He looked at Green and Andy.
“…are the Seventh Princess of the Human Empire and her despicable accomplices.”
Hiss.
The aide was so shocked he could barely breathe. “You mean…”
“Yes. After the humans despicably assassinated General Love, I, the High Shaman of the Kingdom, arrived just in time to capture the killers.”
The Shaman’s eyes were full of faux regret, but his voice was resonant. “And to avenge him, our Kingdom shall launch a Holy Crusade against the Human Empire. For the fallen hero General Love! For the Kingdom!”
Clap. Clap.
A round of enthusiastic applause broke the silence.
It didn’t come from the stunned subordinates. It came from…
Green, who had set down his parchment scroll.
“A fine story. I’m almost convinced.” Putting down his quill, Green offered a confident smile. “However, one part needs an edit. Specifically, the part about the power of stratagems.”
“Stratagems are, of course, desirable. Learning from the enemy’s strengths is commendable. But there is one tiny problem…”
Green’s eyes flashed.
“The prerequisite for implementing a stratagem is having the corresponding strength. And you, Your Excellency High Shaman…”
Flash!
A sword light flickered in Green’s hand.
“…are far from being qualified!”
In that instant, moving like a thundering gale, the blade struck toward the High Shaman in a second far faster than anyone could perceive.
Crack.
The High Shaman looked at his hands in horror. The staff that had accompanied him for years was now splintered with cracks.
Boom.
Just like his “stratagem.”