Chapter 10: The Forest Belongs to Us

Two weeks slipped by in the Capital, faster than I ever imagined.

I spent most of it making sure Ren and Sari actually lived for once. Food stalls, toy vendors, sweets from bakeries they couldn’t even pronounce the names of. I spoiled them rotten. By the end of those two weeks, they weren’t the ragged, hollow-eyed kids I’d first met. Their cheeks had color, their laughter came easily, and their eyes finally held something close to hope.

And me? I played the part of the doting Aniki with frightening efficiency. Too much, maybe. I was starting to wonder if my wallet had developed a Skill called Rapid Drain.

Of course, between my "family trips," I also carved out time for myself, mainly at the Royal Capital Library. I wanted to understand more about Aetherion beyond villages, demons, and mesmerizing Saints trying to slice me apart. History, world politics, geography, it was all dry as hell, but it gave me perspective. And perspective was survival.

Meanwhile, there was another little detail: the Knights.

For two weeks, they scoured the streets, their patrols doubling, faces hard, eyes sharp. Posters of me, my face sketched almost insultingly well plastered on alley walls and market boards. Wanted.

I assumed the obvious: someone had framed me. Some noble, some church, some bastard with too much time. Great. Just what I needed, theroyal family breathing down my neck. Naturally, I avoided them with the grace of a rat in a bakery. Slip here, vanish there. Two weeks of perfect evasion.

What I didn’t know, or what I wouldn’t learn until later was that they weren’t hunting to kill or chain me. They were trying to reward me. A reward I’d never claim, because I’d already vanished from their grasp. My genius evasion worked against me, as usual.

When the two weeks were up, I went to see the dwarf one last time.

And there it was: the katana.

The craftsmanship was flawless. A curved, single-edged blade with a mirror polish, its hilt wrapped in dark navy silk, the guard etched with flowing patterns that looked like waves crashing. I could almost hear the steel hum as I held it.

“Matsuri,” I whispered, naming it on the spot. Festival. A sword for a man who turned battles into performance.

The day after that, I was supposed to head back to the Dark Elf village. Yoruha and Lireath were probably sharpening their tongues into weapons, ready to lecture me into an early grave. I… wasn’t exactly eager.

So I made the most brilliant decision of my life: delay. Just two more days in the Capital. Two days to breathe before the chaos of those two women. I laughed to myself, patting my own back. Genius. Absolute genius.

A decision that would later taste like shit in my mouth. A decision that would birth regret and despair.

Finally, departure day came.

I purchased two sturdy horses for the journey. I could’ve walked the distance easily, but Ren and Sari were normal humans. There was no way they’d survive trudging through the Forest of Calm on foot.

After preparations, saddlebags, and far too much Ren panicking about whether he’d packed enough, we were ready.

Before we left, though, someone surprisingly showed up. The woman from Ren’s old adventurer party.

She smiled brightly, far too brightly, as if this was some farewell scene straight out of a drama. “Tengen, right? I never introduced myself before. Lari. If you ever come back to the Capital, I’d be happy to show you around more.”

I gave her one of my signature smiles, the type that made people think I was a decent guy. “Thanks. I’ll remember that.”

She nodded, the turned to Ren, her face softening. “I’m happy for you. Really. Live a happy, fulfilling life, okay?”

Her words were sincere, and for a second I almost felt guilty for dragging her into the mess earlier. Almost.

She crouched slightly to Sari’s level, offering a gentle smile. “Take care of yourself as well, alright?”

Sari, already clinging tightly to me on the saddle, her little arms wrapped around my waist like a terrified koala nodded. The horse shifted under us, and she squeaked, burying her face in my back.

I chuckled, patting her arm. “Relax. You’re with me. These beasts wouldn’t dare throw you off.”

And with that, reins tightened, bags secured, the three of us set off.

The Forest of Calm was ripe for harvest, chaos, disunity, no one strong enough to claim the reins. Exactly the kind of place where weak-minded brutes could be swayed with a few flattering words.

The ogre village was as pitiful as I imagined. Crude huts. Mud roads. Guards standing like logs with clubs in their hands. Not one of them dared stop me as I walked through their streets, hood pulled low. They stared, whispered, but didn’t act. They could sense it the gap between us.

Good. Fear made things easier.

The Chief’s longhouse was loud even from outside, the booming laughter of a fool who thought himself king of the forest. When I entered, he was sprawled across a crude throne of stone, tusked grin splitting his brutish face.

“I was expecting you,” he said, voice shaking the air. “Not many walk in here so boldly. What is it you want, stranger?”

I lowered my head, just enough to appear respectful. “The Forest of Calm is in disarray. It needs a leader. Only the strongest should rule. And that, Chief, is you.”

As expected, his eyes gleamed like a child hearing praise. His laughter rattled the walls. “Hah! Yes! Only the strong rule! You’re a wise one, aren’t you?”

Pathetic. So easy to steer.

“I can help you claim that strength,” I said softly.

His laughter stopped. His interest sharpened. “Help me? How?”

“By giving you more power. You… and your most trusted elites.”

He leaned forward, tusks gleaming. “More power, you say? How could you possibly give me more than I already have?”

“I can give you names.”

The shift in his expression was almost comical. Shock, disbelief, hunger. He rose to his feet. “Names? … You mean it?”

“I would never lie.”

That was all it took. His chest swelled with pride, and his booming laugh returned. “Good! GOOD! I like you, boy! But tell me, what do you get out of this?”

I lowered my voice, smooth as honey. “My only wish… is to serve the strongest.”

Of course, he bought it. Of course, he roared with laughter and clapped his massive hands.

Idiot. You’ve already wrapped the chain around your own neck.

I raised a hand. “Then let us begin. From this moment, you are Gorrak.”

Light burst around him, his body reshaping, monstrous bulk refining into something more elegant, more dangerous. His crimson skin lightened, horns curling from his temples. A Kijin, strong as steel.

He flexed, slammed his fists into the stone floor, cracking it in half. “Hah! This power…! This is mine! I AM STRONGER!”

Good. Exactly what I wanted.

One by one, I named his lackeys.

“You are Krasha.

You, Varrg.

You, Jukra.

And you… Renak.”

Each of them convulsed, glowing, evolving, roaring as new strength flooded their veins. They flexed and shouted, slamming fists, boasting like children with new toys.

I didn’t need to tell them how much of their minds I had already leashed. They’d find out soon enough.

“There is… one more thing,” I said, pulling the small pouch from my cloak. Five black pills, shining faintly in the firelight. “A gift. Take them. One each.”

No hesitation. No questions. Just greedy hands and open mouths.

Fools.

The moment the pills slid down their throats, their power spiked again. Their veins lit like molten lines under their skin, a raging fire they couldn’t control. Their laughter shook the longhouse.

“STRONGER! YES! EVEN STRONGER!” Gorrak bellowed.

They flexed, stomped, smashed, drunk on raw strength, blind to the cost.

I stood still, arms folded, smiling beneath my hood.

Good. Roar, musclebrains. Flex your borrowed strength. Every fool believes he’s a king before the leash pulls tight.

And soon… they’d learn what it meant to serve me.

The next evening, the ogres gathered in the longhouse once more.

The fire pit roared at the center, shadows dancing across the walls as the entire council of elders sat in uneasy silence. Dozens of eyes flicked nervously toward the five figures standing at the front. Gorrak and his newly ascended elites. Their auras pressed like a physical weight, each breath radiating power that no ordinary ogre could hope to contest.

Gorrak himself looked almost unrecognizable. Taller, sharper, less beast and more… something else. The horns on his temples caught the firelight as he flexed his new form with pride. His laugh shook the air.

“Look at me!” he boomed, voice thick with arrogance. “No longer bound by the flesh of an ordinary ogre. Stronger, faster, greater than any who came before! Even Ashryn, yes, Ashryn himself would fall before my might!”

The elders shifted uncomfortably, murmurs breaking out like sparks. His claim was blasphemy to some, insanity to others, but not one of them dared speak aloud. The pressure he radiated smothered their words before they could leave their lips.

All except one.

“Father, stop this.”

The voice cut through the chamber like a blade. All heads turned toward her, his daughter.

The Princess stood tall despite her slender frame, her eyes sharp, her expression calm. She was young, but there was no fear in her gaze, no hesitation in her step as she moved forward. She was known among the ogres for her mind, she was too sharp, too cautious, too human for her father’s liking.

“Father,” she repeated, her voice steady but urgent, “you cannot go down this path. To conquer the forest will bring nothing but bloodshed. Do you think the other will kneel so easily? They will resist. And when they resist, we will drown in endless war. There is still peace here if we only choose it.”

Her words carried weight, and for a fleeting moment, the murmurs shifted—whispers of agreement, faint sparks of hope.

But then Gorrak’s booming laugh crushed them flat.

“Peace?” he sneered, turning his sharp eyes on her. “Only cowards cling to peace. Power is all that matters in this world. The weak bend, or the weak break. That is the truth of the forest, and soon, the truth of all Aetherion.”

He stepped closer, his shadow towering over her. “And you… daughter of mine… dare to call yourself an ogre while speaking like a trembling human? You are unfit to lead, unfit to even carry my name. Perhaps I should be rid of you entirely and sire a child worthy of me.”

Gasps filled the chamber. The Princess stiffened, her hands trembling, but she did not back down.

“Father… strength without wisdom leads only to ruin. If you continue like this”

“ENOUGH!” Gorrak’s roar silenced her. He turned to the crowd, arms spread wide. “Hear me, all of you! The age of hiding in these trees is over! The ogres will rise! We will seize the Forest of Calm, and from there, everything else this world has to offer. No elf, no beast, no human will stand in our way!”

A roar of forced cheers erupted from the room, elders and warriors alike clapping their fists to their chests, voices shaking but loud enough to appease him. They cheered not out of belief, but out of fear.

But then, one voice rose again.

“Chief! With respect”

It was one of the Princess’s retainers, a tall warrior with scarred arms and loyalty etched into every line of his face. He stepped forward, voice steady, heart brave enough to say what others would not.

“Chief, the Princess is right. To provoke war against the forest is..”

CRACK.

The sound echoed like thunder.

Before anyone realized what had happened, one of Gorrak’s elites, Varrg, had moved. Faster than the eye could follow, his fist had buried itself into the retainer’s gut. The warrior flew backward, crashing into the stone wall, slumping to the floor unconscious before he could finish his words.

The Princess screamed, rushing to his side. “No! Stay with me!” She knelt over him, checking his breath, tears stinging her eyes as relief washed over her. He was alive.

Gorrak sneered, his new Kijin form towering over the scene. “This is the fate of those who oppose me. Remember it well!”

The hall fell silent again, fear gripping every throat. Not one dared speak now, not one dared breathe too loudly.

The Princess clutched her retainer’s hand, trembling but glaring up at her father with defiance in her eyes.

But Gorrak didn’t even look at her.

He spread his arms wide again, his voice echoing with manic pride.

“This is the time of the ogres! We will crush all who stand before us and take the forest for ourselves! From this day forth the Forest of Calm belongs to us!”

His words rang like a war cry, sealing the fate of the forest.

The air inside the longhouse still felt heavy even after the elders had left. The echoes of Gorrak’s booming speech lingered, his words stamped into the minds of every ogre present.

Now, only two remained.

The Chief, standing tall and proud, drunk on the swell of his newfound strength.
And the Princess, sitting stiffly across from him, her fists clenched white in her lap.

She broke the silence first.
“Father… do you truly believe the Five Great Races will allow you to seize the forest uncontested?”

Her voice was sharp, but underneath it trembled fear, not for herself, but for the people who would be thrown into his madness.

Gorrak chuckled, resting a massive hand against his knee. “Let them come. Do you think I fear thethem? No. If they oppose me, I will crush them.”

“You’ll be crushed,” she snapped back, eyes blazing. “The Five Great Races are not mere villages, Father. Armies. Powers beyond what even you can imagine. Are you prepared to fight them all at once?”

For a moment, silence. Then Gorrak’s grin widened.

“I have no quarrel with them. If they bend, I welcome them. If they seek power, I will show them the path. And once they taste it, they will bow. Every leader, every tribe, every race, they all hunger for strength. When they see mine, they will follow.”

Her stomach twisted at his arrogance. He believed it. He truly believed he could buy loyalty with borrowed power.

The meeting had ended, but she could not let go. When the last torch dimmed and the guards withdrew, she stayed. She had to ask.

“…Why, Father? Why are you doing this?”

Gorrak turned his head toward her, eyes hard and glowing faintly under the firelight. “Because I can. Because I have the power to. Why should I crawl when I was born to tower over all?”

Her breath caught. She’d feared this answer, but hearing it aloud was worse. “Where did you get it?” she demanded, voice trembling. “Where did this… power come from?”

He paused, then smiled. “A wise man saw potential in me. He offered me strength. I accepted. That is all.”

Her nails dug into her palms. “A shortcut,” she hissed. “You saw an easy road, and you took it, no matter the cost.”

“Do not lecture me, child!” Gorrak roared, slamming his fist into the stone floor. The ground cracked beneath his strength. “I am still your father!”

Her eyes stung, but she refused to back down. “No… you’re not. My father cared for his people. He fought for their safety. But you” Her voice broke, then hardened again. “you will get them killed for nothing. For pride. For blood you don’t need to spill.”

Gorrak sneered. “If they die, they will die proud, fighting for the glory of our people. That is more honor than they’d ever earn cowering in the shadows.”

The Princess stared at him, and in that moment, her heart sank. The man before her was not her father. Not anymore. Something darker had taken root where his soul once stood.

Her hands tightened at her sides. “If you won’t listen… then I’ll stop you myself. No matter what it takes.”

For a moment, silence. Then Gorrak laughed. A slow, rumbling laugh that grew into another thunderous roar.

“Stop me? Hah! You may try, little one. You may try. Come at me with all your might and watch as I crush even you.”

He leaned closer, his smile cruel. “You are my daughter. I’ll give you that much privilege. Fight me if you dare.”

Her stomach knotted, but she didn’t flinch. She met his gaze, unwavering.

The meeting had ended in fire and thunder. The others had fled, but I lingered, heart heavy. When at last I slipped away from my father’s longhouse, the night air pressed cold against my face.

I found him, my retainer lying where they’d taken him, his body battered but still breathing. Relief washed through me.

“Are you hurt badly?” I whispered, kneeling beside him.

He tried to push himself upright, his lips twisting into a weak smile. “It’s nothing, Princess. Just bruises. I’ll be fine.”

Bruises. That strike had nearly broken him in half, and he called them bruises. Loyal to the bone, even in pain. I bit down on my frustration and helped him to his feet.

Together we walked back to my quarters, where the rest of my retainers waited. Their eyes widened at the sight of him, but he waved them off before they could swarm.
“Nothing serious,” he muttered. “A few bruises. Nothing more.”

But their faces tightened all the same. They knew. They had seen the madness in Gorrak’s eyes just as I had.

Once the door closed and the torches were lit, I drew a breath and looked at them all. “We need to talk.”

The words spilled from me in a rush. My father’s boasting, his arrogance, his declaration of conquest. His delusion that he could challenge the Five Great Races themselves. I relayed every word, every sneer, every promise of blood.

Their faces darkened with each detail. Some clenched their fists, others lowered their heads, their silence laced with disgust. One finally broke it:
“There is no reason for this. None. This will only bring ruin.”

“I know.” My voice cracked, but I steadied it. “That is why I cannot stand by. If my father insists on dragging us into slaughter, then we must stop him. And I cannot do it alone.”

They stared at me, some shocked, some afraid. But none of them argued. Not one.

I pressed on. “I saw the faces of the elders earlier. They were afraid to speak, but many of them did not agree. We must find them. Speak with them. Convince them to stand with us. If we do not gather allies now, we’ll be crushed before we even begin.”

One of my retainers unrolled a map across the low table. They pointed to a stretch of the forest, tracing routes with their finger. “If the Chief truly means conquest, the Dark Elf village will be his first target. It is close, rich in mana, and defensible. Taking it would send a message to the entire forest.”

My chest tightened. The Dark Elves. I had always respected their people, their long memory, their wisdom. To think of my father’s army descending on them, burning, slaughtering was unbearable.

“We cannot let it happen,” I said firmly. “We must prepare before he makes his first move.”

Another retainer spoke, voice quiet but sharp. “Princess… this power of his, it is not natural. Where did he get it?”

“I don’t know.” My hand curled into a fist. “But I intend to find out. Someone gave him this strength. Someone who saw his pride and fed it. If I can discover who they are, perhaps I can cut this madness at its root.”

I looked around at them, meeting every gaze. “And beyond that we must find a way to reach the leaders of the Five Great Races. If they hear only my father’s war cry, they will unite against us. But if they hear our plea, if they see that not all ogres follow this path, then perhaps they will listen. Perhaps peace is still possible.”

The retainers straightened, conviction sparking in their eyes. One by one, they lowered their heads.

“Yes, Princess.”
“As you command.”
“We will scatter and gather what you need.”

I exhaled slowly, the weight pressing heavier than ever on my shoulders. “Then go. Before it’s too late.”

They filed out into the night, leaving me alone in the flickering torchlight.

I closed my eyes, clutching the edge of the map until my knuckles whitened.

“Father… if you won’t stop yourself…” I whispered, voice shaking. “Then I will stop you. Even if it breaks me.”