Chapter 236: The Offer (1/2)

The old man knew that there was no fixing of this mistake. His people are already gone. They are nothing more than mindless servants of the horde, warriors to be used on the frontlines against the myriad races they will be ultimately used against as nothing more than tools for slaughter.

Nobody will remember their history, their struggles, and their victories. The world will only know that they were bloodthirsty, violent monsters, invaders on their 'peaceful' land, trying to take their life and the world itself away from them.

They will only know that they were the demons, the brutal monsters, the violent beasts that were nothing more than bipedal pigs.

A completely twisted joke on their legacy. They had so much more to give, just like every other intelligent species they also had their own history, their own unique, special things that could just as easily define them, as to how the future will now ultimately remember them.

Remembering this he let a saddened sigh escape his lips. Looking at the crackling bonfire, the old man remained silent for a while, despite the goblin's surprising urging to continue with the story.

After a long while, he let out one more breath of air, and continued.

”[Orc] You know, there's not much more to say now. I agreed with them, and as I took the staff that you ultimately took from me, I joined their ranks as an agent. I gained the power I craved for, and in the process, I doomed my entire existence and my people. ”

A small smirk crept on the edges of his lips. He continued to look at the fire as he raised a rhetorical question.

”[Orc] You what was the funniest? When I walked out to the podium and looked into the eyes of all those that gathered on that fateful day… All the fiery, fervent gazes… When I announced that we joined the Horde, and we will be part of something much bigger to create a new world for ourselves… They actually celebrated this change! They were happy and ready to join in on this adventure of mine, ready to leave their lives, and readily doom themselves. It was at that point when I realized what I had just done. As I looked at them and saw their crazed eyes as they celebrated something that they probably didn't even understand… it just dawned on me then and there. The great mistake I had just made.”

Once again, the old man returned to silence, as a single tear began to formulate and fight to break free from his jail cell. Eventually, the little tear won the struggle and escaped its confined space, only to slide through the wrinkled dark grey dry skin of his owner, and fall down to the dusty ground.

”[Orc] You know, at that point, albeit too late, I realized that the only thing I ever really wanted was to be remembered. I just wanted our race to not be forgotten like many others before us. I wanted to make a mark in history, whatever small or insignificant it was.”

He raised his right arm, and clenched his hand into a fist, using all of his physical strength. A moment later, as his eyes wandered off from the fire to his tightly pumped fist, he formed a hollow smile.

He slowly began to move his fist, following his line of sight. As he did so, the outer layers of his hand began to slowly blur, the particles in the air around it started a wild reaction. Slowly, a black hue began to form, and surround his arm, giving it a strange, unique energy-based coating. The black-colored layer of energy formed a glove-like barrier around his fist, a low-tone humming noise could be heard as it continued to linger and possibly protect its wielder.

Looking at his own creation with a wry smile, the old man continued.

”[Orc] I have gained incredible powers, I was and I can be considered quite strong in fact… but what use do I have for all this power? It will all vanish with me, and there will be no traces of my legacy, my people…”

Waves began to form on the surface of the energy barrier and began to traverse towards the fist, gathering coalescing in one singular point at the tip. As it continued to gather, soon the tip of his fist began to distort the very space itself, creating twisted, hazy imagery of the outline of his clenched hand.

The dark, void-colored energy eerily continued to gather, as the old man let his frustration reach a singular point in his body.