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Chapter 11 - The Rise of the General

Rowan stood tall amidst the chaos,

blood streaking his face, his

once-pristine shirt now torn and singed.

His chest rose and fell heavily, the

weight of countless lives bearing down

on him. Before him, the orc shaman

stumbled back, clutching his staff, eyes

wide with disbelief. Rowan's presence,

despite his injuries, emanated an

undeniable aura of defiance.

The remaining orcs regrouped, snarling,

their guttural chants echoing through

the devastated streets of Stagpeak.

With their numbers dwindling, their

desperation only grew, and they sought

strength in their shaman. The shaman,

though terrified, grinned slyly, masking

his fear.

"You might have survived my fire," he

sneered, his voice trembling, "but that

was merely the beginning. Watch as

true power unfolds!"

He began chanting, his guttural words

vibrating the air. The staff he held aloft

glowed ominously, shifting hues

between a sickly green and a deep

crimson.

Rowan could feel the pulse of magic in

the air, and he braced himself, his

broken sword now discarded at his feet.

His gaze flickered to the fallen orcs,

their crude weapons lying within reach.

In one swift motion, he lunged for a

jagged orc club and gripped it tightly.

The shaman unleashed his spell, a

swirling torrent of wind infused with

slicing magical energy, aimed directly at

Rowan. It crashed into him with the

force of a hurricane. Dust and debris

obscured the battlefield, leaving the

villagers who watched from the

shadows gasping in terror.

When the dust cleared, the shaman's

triumphant grin faltered. Rowan was

still standing. His body bore deep

gashes, his blood soaking the ground

beneath him, yet he stood tall, his fiery

hazel eyes locked onto the shaman.

"H-how are you still alive?!" the shaman

stammered, taking a step back.

Rowan didn't respond. Instead, he

advanced, each step measured and

deliberate, the club dragging against

the ground, creating a chilling sound.

The shaman, so often the predator, was

now prey.

"Stay back!" the shaman screamed,

backing into a corner. He frantically

hurled weak magical bolts at Rowan,

but they fizzled out before they could

even reach him.

Rowan lunged forward, his movements

fueled by sheer willpower. The orc

shaman barely had time to scream

before Rowan's swing cleaved through

his neck. His head fell with a sickening

thud, rolling to the feet of his terrified

brethren. Rowan looked down at the

decapitated head, his face devoid of

emotion, before muttering, "What a

cOward."

The villagers, hidden within the rubble,

watched in stunned silence. Some

whispered prayers of gratitude, while

others wept openly, clutching their

children. Maya, who had been calming

the panicked townspeople, stood

frozen, her hands covering her mouth

as tears streamed down her face.

"He's... he's really doing it" she

whispered, awe filling her voice.

As the dust settled around Rowan, the

sound of heavy footsteps filled the air.

The ground seemed to tremble beneath

the weight of something massive. The

remaining orcs suddenly rallied, their

fear replaced by fervent cheers.

"lgnatz! lgnatz! Ignatz!" they chanted in

unison.

From the shadows emerged lgnatz, the

towering orc general. He was unlike any

orc Rowan had faced before. His

muscles rippled under his thick green

skin, and his presence alone was

enough to sap the air of hope. Clad in

dark armor that bore scars from

Countless battles, IgnatZ carried an

enormous jagged blade, its edge

gleaming wickedly in the fading

sunlight.

Rowan's eyes narrowed as Ignatz

approached. "So, you're the one behind

all this destruction," he said, gripping

his club tighter.

Ignatz tilted his head, his deep voice

rumbling like distant thunder. "The

destruction? No, human. This is merely

the beginning." He pointed his massive

blade at Rowan. "You're the one l've

been sensing, aren't you? That surge of

power earlier-it was you."

Rowan didn't answer, his stance steady

as he prepared for whatever was

coming.

lgnatz chuckled, a low, menacing

sound. "Interesting. You took down my

shaman. but let's see if you can handle

this." He turned to one of his remaining

orcs and barked an order. "Attack him."

The orc, smaller than lgnatz but still

massive, hesitated briefly before

obeying. It raised its hand, summoning

a fireball and hurling it at Rowan. The

villagers screamed as the flames

hurtled through the air.

But Rowan stood unmoving, letting the

fireball engulf him. As the flames

dissipated, he emerged unscathed.

Ignatz laughed heartily. "I knew it!

Immune to flames. How... Curious." His

laughter subsided, and his eyes

narrowed dangerously. "But don't think

for a moment that makes you invincible,

little man. I'|l find your weakness."

Rowan didn't reply, his focus now

entirely on the towering figure before

him. Around him, the villagers

whispered in disbelief, their fear giving

way to cautious hope.

"Is he even human?" one man asked,

clutching his son tightly.

"No," Maya said softly, her eyes never

leaving Rowan. "He's something

greater."

Ignatz stepped forward, the ground

quaking with each movement. "Come

then, human. Show me the strength

that terrifies my men."

As Rowan met lgnatz's challenge, the

villagers could only watch in awe. Their

savior, bloodied but unbroken, was all

that stood between them and utter

annihilation.