The group had returned to their village and dispersed to their various huts to rest, their bodies aching from the brutal expedition.
Exhaustion weighed heavy on every warrior's shoulders like invisible chains.
Sarion was an exception—he had headed down to Vrokul's hut instead of seeking rest. Vrokul was the settlement's alchemist and sort of witch doctor, his dwelling always reeking of strange herbs and bubbling concoctions. Sarion wanted Vrokul to concoct a potion using Vorgrim's core. The latter had been an oni chief, which placed his core at the initial stages of C rank—a prize that could change everything.
Sarion had passed down the details to Vrokul before leaving his hut, the ancient ogre's yellowed eyes gleaming with interest at the rare ingredient. Though the ogre chief had been healed to perfection, he had still used spirit energy in his fight—he could collapse at any moment, his body a ticking time bomb of depleted power.
"Oh my, you're back, dear."
A surprised Bria, who was giving breast milk to their young Sera, was shocked to see that Sarion had returned in merely a day. Her eyes widened as she took in his relatively unscathed appearance, relief flooding her features like dawn breaking through storm clouds.
"I'm home, my love, and I brought some prizes."
Sarion announced, dropping two magnificent stags with ice-crystalline antlers that clinked like wind chimes against the hut's wooden floor.
"Oh! Dear, you brought back the carnivorous stags—I love these types! Where are my manners? You want to rest, don't you?"
Bria reminded herself, her voice dancing with excitement. She didn't have the least bit of doubt that her husband would return, although she had expected him to return bruised and battered. She wouldn't complain if he came back without even a single scratch, but this seemed almost too good to be true.
"How is my boy doing?"
Sarion asked, making funny faces as he looked at Sera, who was currently suckling his mother's breast, tiny fingers grasping at the fabric of her tunic.
Sarion spent some time with his family, savoring these precious moments of peace before finally laying down on the woven mat and drifting into much-needed sleep.
– – –
Two days had passed in a blur. In front of Sarion's hut stood four imposing figures: Veryan, the vice chief of the Crimson clan with his battle-scarred arms crossed; Norgan, the vice chief of the former New Yin, his weathered face etched with concern; Thakkor, the first warrior and captain of the Crimson warriors, his massive frame casting shadows across the ground; and Vrokul, the clan alchemist, whose robes still bore the stains of his latest experiments.
Sarion stepped out to greet his guests, the morning sun casting long shadows across the settlement. Norgan had come with some workers to start erecting new huts to integrate the New Yin into the Crimson clan. Sarion had cleared that matter and sent Veryan, who had come for the same reason, on his way with satisfied nods.
Thakkor had come to inform Sarion that the village warriors would be departing for their usual "Grothek Vulkash"—the great hunt. This was an event where the warriors rallied throughout the forest and hunted in large quantities, as winter would soon descend like a hungry beast, and monsters would become scarce and more dangerous.
Sarion had grasped the full scope of their mission and had given Thakkor complete authority during their expedition, trusting his most seasoned warrior's judgment.
Finally, Sarion turned to Vrokul, who now remained as the last visitor, his ancient eyes twinkling with mysterious knowledge.
"Chief, here's what you asked for."
Vrokul announced as he tossed over a vial containing a green liquid with a reddish hue that seemed to pulse with inner light. This was Vorgrim's core, dissolved into liquid form so that Sera could easily digest it. The potion would only improve the consumer's core value depending on the level of the core digested—a gift that could shape a child's entire future.
"I also gave the other vial to Ursa for Veryan's child. I'll be off now."
Vrokul turned to continue whatever experiment occupied his brilliant mind. Like Venna, the only thing that consumed their thoughts was their research—this singular obsession was one reason why they got along so well whenever they were together.
Sarion stepped into his hut to find Bria playing with Sera, whose face remained expressionless—an oddity for a child his age that sent a chill down Sarion's spine. The chief discarded what he had just noticed and stretched forward his hands for Bria to hand Sera over, pushing aside the nagging worry.
With Sera cradled in his powerful arms, Sarion took a seat and opened the vial, its contents gleaming like liquid emeralds. Without hesitation, he tilted it into the baby's mouth, and Sera, with no strength to resist, simply drank without struggle.
Bria didn't challenge her husband, trusting that whatever he did was for their son's safety. He cared for their child as deeply as she did—perhaps even more fiercely.
– – –
Sera looked up at Sarion, wondering what his birth father intended.
"Hey, what are you do—"
Before he could form a complete complaint, a vial containing an unknown liquid was poured into his mouth. Before he could object, he was greeted with a series of messages echoing in his head and a holographic screen materializing before his infant eyes.
[Ding!]
[The host has consumed a grade C core. As a result, the host's core has improved by two ranks]
[Congratulations! Your core is now at the initial stages of D rank]
[Congratulations! Your unique skill "Plunderer" has acquired a skill from the core consumed]
[Congratulations! You have gained skill: Ogre Chief's Blessing C]
[Ogre Chief's Blessing C - The ogre tribe respects power above all else. As a result, their god blesses every tribe with a chief to rule for a particular generation. In every ogre tribe, only one ogre is gifted with this sacred blessing]
Seeing these notifications flash before him like lightning, Sera kept perfectly still and gulped down the remaining liquid, his tiny throat working to swallow the potent elixir.
[Congratulations! Your spirit power capacity has increased to 50]
"I don't know much about this 'spirit power,' but I'm certain that at the moment, this body can accept mana—though not too much. Who knew cores could be so beneficial? Let's start absorbing it into my heart."
Sera pretended to sleep, and Sarion, believing his son had drifted off, gently placed him down to give his full attention to his wife.
"Finally! That father of mine put me down."
Sera, elated that his plan had worked flawlessly, prepared to continue his mana absorption, his infant heart racing with anticipation.
"There are ten stages of mana called circles. The first circle involves awakening the energy you never knew existed. For others, it might prove difficult, but as a god, it shouldn't be that challenging."
Sera began gathering energy, feeling it swirl and rotate within his heart like a miniature cyclone. Minutes passed as the power condensed and shaped itself. Finally, a thin line formed, circling his heart like a golden thread. He had unlocked his first circle—a achievement that would normally take years of training.
The newborn was immediately exhausted after forming his first circle, falling into a deep sleep, unable to notice the notification that appeared like a whisper in the darkness.
[Ding!]
[Host has unlocked an external force]
[Congratulations! You have drawn closer to understanding the secrets of this world. You have unlocked the use of mana - 10/10]
– – –
Evening descended like a blood-red curtain across the sky. The warriors who had departed for the hunt had returned—but not all of them. Thakkor stood at the front of what remained from their expedition, his face a mask of grim determination and barely contained rage. They marched toward Sarion's hut like men carrying the weight of tragedy on their shoulders.
They arrived at Sarion's dwelling, and the chief was already addressing them before they could speak, reading the devastation written across their faces.
"Chief, they have made their move!"
Thakkor declared, his voice cracking with emotion as he looked at Sarion with his beaten and bloodied face, one eye swollen shut and his lip split like torn leather.
Sarion didn't utter a word, simply nodded with the gravity of a mountain, then replied with deadly calm.
"How many?"
"Ten, Chief."
The words hit like hammer blows. Ten Crimson oni had died today at the hands of the Trollbreed clan—another ogre clan that possessed the strength and cunning to prove devastatingly difficult for the Crimson to tackle. The air itself seemed to thicken with the weight of impending war.
That evening, as darkness swallowed the settlement whole, Sarion called for an emergency meeting. The entire settlement attended, including those who had recently joined from the New Yin clan. Their faces were illuminated by flickering torchlight, shadows dancing across worried expressions. Sarion stood before them like a pillar of stone, his voice carrying the weight of destiny as he told them to prepare themselves.
War was imminent, approaching like a storm that would test every soul in the settlement. He had to take command of the situation before his clan fell into the abyss of destruction—before everything they had built crumbled to ash and bon