Ragon had successfully escaped the clutches of the orcs as evening fell. He had hidden throughout the day and was ready to return home. This had become a normal routine for him; usually, the matter would die down by morning, resulting in nothing more than a whipping for stealing. He never considered the whipping to be significant.
Ragon stood at the door of their small cottage. Despite the fact that humans were under the orc's captivity at night, they were free to remove their chains. After all, no one could run away, as everywhere was securely guarded, and most villagers lacked the skills to be even one-star mages or swordsmen.
Two distinct abilities defined every living being, regardless of their race. If you were not a mage, you were a swordsman. Those who didn't fit into either category were deemed weaklings, the lowest of society. This village, in particular, was one of the lowest-ranked, having no active star warriors.
Ragon noticed that the door was wide open, but he didn't dwell on it too much.
"Mom, Dad, I'm back with a lot of food! You don't have to work hard today!" Ragon smiled as he stepped into the cottage.
His heart sank as he entered, seeing blood on the ground. "What's going on?" he gasped, startled.
"Mother!" Ragon rushed forward, his heart pounding, desperate to avoid the outcome he feared.
He didn't walk far before he found his mother's body lying on the floor. Their home was in disarray, wooden fragments scattered everywhere.
"Mother!" He knelt beside her, cradling her head in his hands. Blood poured from her wounds, staining his fingers as he clutched her lower body.
Tears streamed down Ragon's cheeks as he cried out, "Mother, speak to me... who did this to you?" He shook her gently, but there was barely any life left in her.
Her skin was growing pale from blood loss. Natasha finally opened her eyes slightly, raising her bloodied hands to touch Ragon's tear-streaked face. "Stubborn boy... my baby, don't cry... You have to be strong for your father. They took him... Don't weep for me, my time is near... it's fated by the gods." She raised her trembling hand to silence him.
"Mother... no! Please, I won't cry... Mother, please don't leave me!" he sobbed, trying to muster the strength of a man for her sake.
"Mother, you're not going anywhere. Even the gods have no right to take you from me. I'm a half-god! Who dares to take your life? Who did this to you?!" Ragon wiped the tears from his eyes, holding her close.
"I love you, my beautiful baby boy." Her hands fell limply to the ground as she breathed her last.
"No! No! This can't be happening! Mother! You can't leave us... Dad still needs you... no! I promise to be a good child. I promise I won't be stubborn... please come back to me... please!" Ragon laid his head on her body, screaming in agony.
"Why now?" Ragon's eyes blazed bright white as he cried out.
"No!" He lifted his head, and a ray of white light shot toward the ceiling.
"I will kill you all!" he bellowed, his body surging with energy. He had unlocked a part of himself he had been trying to suppress.
His form radiated divine energy. Gently laying his mother to rest, he shot out of the room like a lightning bolt.
He knew that the only place his father could be was the Hall of Graknar. Ragon's speed was like a mirage; no one could see his physical form, only the afterimages left behind.
The orcs guarding the towering walls of their empire fell dead within seconds, unable to mount any resistance.
Everywhere Ragon stepped, orcish blood followed in his wake. He was like a harbinger of war, not allowing them a moment to retaliate before taking them down.
He arrived at the Hall of Graknar, having cleared a blood-stained path.
"GRAKNAR!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the chamber.
Moments later, Graknar emerged, now towering in size, blood covering his hands as he feasted on the remains of his fellow orcs.
Orcs were a brutal race, indifferent to the lives of their kind, seeing them as expendable. It seemed Graknar was not only indulging in his gruesome feast for pleasure but to enhance his own power.
"Haha! Young one, I was brainwashed by you all these years. Now I see! The day I stared into your eyes as a child, I knew you were not truly human. But I don't care... Hahaha! That ends now. I will take your energy from you, and as for the old man..." Graknar raised his hand, a forceful wave emanating from him. He drew forth Ragon's father's lifeless body, flinging it with green energy.
Ragnar, who had been lively when Ragon left that morning despite the hard labor they endured under the orcs, now seemed a mere remnant of himself. His body appeared to have been drained, as if Graknar had absorbed his very essence.
Seeing his father's body shattered Ragon's heart. He rushed toward the pale form, struggling to summon the courage to touch him. "Father... no! This is not possible!" Ragon's voice trembled as he gripped his father's lifeless body.
"Aaaaaahhhhh!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.
"Not again... why me?"
"Aaaaaaaaaah!"
Ragon couldn't contain the immense pain that surged through him. His clothes tore as a brilliant white light erupted from his body, holding his father tightly.
"Aaaahhh! Father, I didn't have the chance to hear your last words!" Ragon cried, his eyes gleaming red, veins bulging as he boiled with rage.
His black pupils transformed into pure white as he locked his gaze onto Graknar.
"You want death... then I will give it to you," Ragon said, his voice deep and echoing. He acted without hesitation.
In an instant, he was gripping the neck of the towering monster, lifting him effortlessly into the air.
Graknar was shocked; he had never felt so close to death. His neck grew numb from Ragon's grasp.
"You want divinity! I will give you what you ask for!" Ragon declared, his white eyes fixed on Graknar. A blinding beam shot from him, penetrating Graknar's body.
"Ahhhh!" Graknar screamed, overwhelmed by the energy flooding into him. His body illuminated with white light, and holes began to tear through him as he expanded grotesquely.
In the next moment, Graknar exploded, his body parts scattering in all directions.