Chapter 106: Crumbling

The overwhelming white light consumed everything in sight.

For a moment, Volk couldn't feel the ground beneath his feet, nor the familiar weight of his Axe of Dissection in his hands.

It was as though time and space had collapsed into a single point, erasing all sense of direction.

His body floated, suspended in the void, with nothing to anchor him.

Then, he heard her voice. Urza'lin.

Her cold, mocking tone slithered into his mind like a poison, her words echoing in the vast emptiness.

"Strange Orc," she began, her voice a low, malicious hum, "you're stronger than I anticipated. You've pushed me farther than anyone has in centuries."

The sound of her voice was filled with twisted admiration, the kind that was laced with bitterness and resentment.

Volk's muscles tensed instinctively, though his body still felt paralyzed by the white void that engulfed him.

"But of course," she continued, her words growing sharper, "I've always been prepared. As an Elder Dark Elven Witch, I've lived through ages. Defeat? Ha! That's a fleeting concept for lesser beings, for those unprepared. I, on the other hand, have always kept an ace in my sleeve."

Volk tried to move, tried to speak, but his mouth wouldn't respond. His frustration swelled as he strained against the invisible bonds holding him in place, his mind racing with fury.

He could almost hear the sneer in her voice as she carried on, weaving her sinister narrative.

"I never expected my carefully laid plans to be challenged by an Orc," Urza'lin continued, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Of all creatures, you, an Orc, have come close to ruining everything. But it matters little now. You see, I always planned for this... for contingencies, for setbacks."

She paused, as though relishing in the situation, savoring the power she still held over him.

"The spell I've just cast," she said with a haughty laugh, "it's a powerful one, meant for a much different battle. But fate, it seems, has twisted my hand. Now, you and all your clansmen will be scattered across the lower realms—random, isolated, and so far apart that you'll never be able to find each other again."

Volk's heart dropped.

He strained even harder, his mind screaming to break free. He couldn't allow her to do this, couldn't let her separate them, not when they had just fought to the brink of survival together.

"Your wives…"

Urza'lin's voice took on a sickeningly sweet tone, "they'll be sent far, far away. You'll never see them again. In the random lower realms I'll send you to, you'll be nothing more than a lost soul, wandering and searching. By the time you figure out what happened, your precious Elven witches will be nothing more than memories—if you even live that long." Sёarch* The Novelƒire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Her laughter rang through the white void, cold and echoing, stretching on for what felt like an eternity.

"And me? I will take the Elven witches with me, to another lower world, and there, I will bend them to my will. They will serve me as they should have from the beginning. And you? You strange Orcs? You'll be left with nothing."

The white light flickered, and the world began to twist again. Volk's limbs ached as they finally responded to his will, but it was too late. Urza'lin's voice was already fading, dissolving into the void.

"Goodbye, Orc. You may have won the battle, but I've won the war…"

…

Suddenly, the white light burst away, and Volk's eyes snapped open.

He was lying on the cold, hard ground of the catacombs.

The cavernous walls still surrounded him, but something was different.

He blinked rapidly, his vision adjusting, trying to make sense of the scene before him.

Groaning, he pushed himself up onto his elbows and glanced around.

The air was thick with dust and the scent of magic went awry.

Around him, the other Orcs of the Dreadmaw Clan were stirring, slowly coming to their senses, their groans and murmurs filling the silence. But something was missing.

The Elves—their wives—were gone.

Panic shot through Volk's veins like fire. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes darting across the cavern.

Only Orcs remained.

The Dreadmaw Clan, Bloodfang Clan, and others, but not a single Elf in sight.

Solluha'r, his wife, was gone.

Every Elven witch had vanished.

"What... what happened?" Grounad's voice was the first to break the eerie quiet. His face was pale, his eyes wide with disbelief as he clutched his weapon.

He looked around frantically, his expression mirroring Volk's own panic. "Where are they? Where are the witches?"

The other Orcs began to rise, confusion and fear gripping them as they realized what had transpired. Whispers filled the air, growing louder with each passing second.

"They're gone."

"Where did they go?"

"What kind of magic was that?"

"What did that witch do?"

Volk's fists clenched at his sides as he stared at the empty space where Solluha'r had been. His heart pounded in his chest, as he tried to think but his head was still groggy.

He had heard Urza'lin's words in the void, her taunting threat still fresh in his memory.

"They've been taken," Volk growled, his voice rough with rage. The Orcs turned to him, their faces a mixture of anger, confusion, and fear.

"Urza'lin... that Dark Elven Witch... she's sent them to a lower world. We're all separated now."

The Orcs exchanged worried glances, their murmurs growing louder.

"To a lower world? What does that even mean?"

"Are they alive?"

"How do we find them?"

Grounad, still pale but now filled with a burning determination, stepped forward.

"Volk," he began, his voice trembling slightly, "what do we do now? You're the strongest among us... you fought her. What do we do?"

Volk's jaw tightened. His mind was racing, searching for answers that weren't there. He could feel the weight of every Orc's gaze on him, waiting, hoping for some kind of plan. But his thoughts were clouded with fury and fear for Solluha'r.

"We find them," he said at last, his voice low and resolute. "We find our wives. We figure out where she sent them, and we bring them back."

"But how?" another Orc called out, his voice thick with desperation. "How do we even begin? We don't know where they are! This... this magic she used—it's beyond anything we've ever seen!"

Volk didn't respond immediately. He could feel the tension rising in the room, the despair starting to set in among the Orcs.

He understood their fear. It was gnawing at him too, threatening to consume him.

But he wouldn't let it. He couldn't.

"Volk…" Grounad added, his voice steadier now. But he also didn't know what to say.

A murmur rippled through the group. As much as they wanted to believe in Volk's words, the reality of their situation weighed heavily on them.

Suddenly, in the midst of the murmurs, a soft DING echoed in Volk's mind.

He stiffened, his eyes narrowing as the sound reverberated in his head.

It was the same sound he had heard before, back when the strange system had first made itself known to him.

A notification.

One that only he could hear.

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Volk blinked!

Maybe another mission!