Two Orcs stepped forward, banging their shields together to create a cacophony of noise.

CLANG! CLANG!

The Ogre turned toward them, its beady eyes narrowing.

“Now, the legs!” Volk roared.

Three more Orcs darted in from the sides, their axes biting into the Ogre’s legs.

CHOP!

THUD!

The beast fell forward, its massive frame shaking the ground as it hit the dirt.

The fifth Ogre, seeing its comrades defeated one by one, hesitated. It looked around, its brutish mind clearly calculating whether to fight or flee.

“Don’t let it escape!” Volk shouted.

The horde moved as one, encircling the lone Ogre.

It swung its crude weapon in desperation, but the Orcs were too coordinated.

They darted in and out, landing blows and retreating before the beast could retaliate.

SLASH!

STAB!

CRUNCH!

Within minutes, the last Ogre fell, its massive body collapsing in a heap. The forest grew silent once more, save for the ragged breathing of the victorious horde.

The Orcs looked at one another, their faces a mix of exhaustion and pride. Their movements had been sharper, their attacks more precise. They were learning, growing stronger with each battle.

Volk stood at the center, his crimson gauntlet faintly glowing as he surveyed the battlefield. A faint smirk played on his lips.

“You’re improving,” he said, his voice carrying over the group. “But there’s still room for growth. The enemy won’t always be this predictable.”

The Orcs nodded, their expressions determined.

But before they could celebrate their victory, a low rumble shook the ground. The Orcs froze, their heads snapping toward the source of the sound.

From the shadows of the forest, a far larger figure emerged. The ground trembled beneath its massive feet, and the very trees seemed to sway with its approach.

The beast was an Ogre, but unlike any they had seen before.

It towered over the others, its frame impossibly broad and muscular.

Its skin was a dark, mottled gray, almost like stone, and its eyes burned with an eerie crimson light.

In its hands, it carried a weapon that could only be described as a massive slab of jagged rock, shaped into a crude but devastating blade.

The horde stared in stunned silence as the enormous Ogre stepped into the clearing.

“What… is that?” one Orc muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Volk’s eyes narrowed, his smirk fading as he studied the colossal creature.

“It seems we’ve found their leader,” Volk said, his tone grim but laced with determination.

The massive Ogre let out a deafening roar, the sound echoing through the forest like a thunderclap.

The horde tensed, their weapons ready, as they awaited Volk’s command.

The enormous Ogre’s guttural voice boomed through the clearing like a drumbeat from the heavens.

“ME NO LEADER,” it roared, its words simple and fragmented but carried with immense force. “WHY YOU ATTACK YOUNGSTERS?”

The Orcs froze, their battle-ready stances breaking.

The sight of an Ogre speaking, using words rather than mindless roars or grunts, sent a ripple of disbelief through the horde.

“He… it talks?” one Orc muttered, his voice quivering.

Another Orc’s knees began to tremble. “Chief… that’s… that’s an intelligent Ogre!”

The realization spread like wildfire. The once-bloodthirsty warriors, who had charged headlong into previous battles, now glanced nervously at one another.

Some began to shuffle backward, their courage evaporating in the face of this anomaly.

“Chief,” one of the older Orcs stammered, stepping forward hesitantly. “This… this is not like the others. We should go back. This is unnatural!”

The panic rippled outward.

“Chief Volk, please! We don’t need to fight this thing!”

“It’s… it’s too big! And it’s smart!”

“Chief, look at its weapon! It’s huge! One swing could take out half of us!”

More voices rose, some pleading, others shaking with fear.

“Let’s regroup! Find another target!”

“This isn’t worth it! We’re warriors, not… not suicides!”

Volk stood silent, his crimson gauntlet resting against his side, unmoving despite the chaos around him.

His sharp eyes were locked on the towering Ogre, studying its every movement. The fear among his warriors grew.

“Chief, please!”

“Volk, we’ll die here!”

“Why fight it? Let’s go!”

But Volk raised his hand, palm open and fingers spread, commanding silence.

“Hush,” he said, his tone calm but carrying the weight of absolute authority.

The Orcs fell silent, though their eyes darted nervously between their Warchief and the Ogre.

Volk wasn’t listening to their panicked pleas anymore. His focus was entirely on the massive creature before him.

Something stirred deep within his mind, an ache that felt familiar yet foreign. He narrowed his eyes, the memory clawing its way to the surface.

A sensation washed over him, a powerful deja vu.

This wasn’t the first time he had encountered a creature like this.

No… this reminded him of something else.

His original horde.

Back before he had been torn from them and thrust into this realm.

Back when his warriors, his true kin, could ascend into their terrifying Grumgar forms—half-Ogre monstrosities fueled by raw, unnatural power.

The transformation was chaotic, violent, and absolute. It made them unstoppable, much like his own radioactive form.

And now, this Ogre standing before him… it was different from the wild brutes they had fought so far.

Its posture, its weapon, its words… they all carried echoes of that same transformation.

This wasn’t just an Ogre.

It was something closer to him and his lost warriors.

Volk’s eyes flicked upward, and a translucent system screen appeared before him, visible only to his gaze.

Hovering just above the Ogre’s head, glowing text began to display the creature’s information.

—

Name: Gar’ruk the Rememberer

Race: Proto-Ogre (Ascended Form)

Level: 33

Attributes:

Strength: 450

Agility: 120

Intelligence: 80

Endurance: 500

Skills:

Boulder Smash: Gar’ruk uses his massive weapon to create shockwaves that shatter the ground and stagger enemies.

Tremor Roar: A deafening roar that shakes the surroundings, instilling fear and breaking enemy formations.

Adaptive Instinct: Enhanced intelligence allows Gar’ruk to strategize and counteract enemies mid-battle.

Resilience of Stone: Takes significantly reduced damage from physical attacks.

Description:

Gar’ruk is a rare, ascended Proto-Ogre who has retained fragments of higher intelligence from a bygone age.

Unlike his brutish kin, he is capable of speech and reasoning.

Though he appears as a mere wild beast, his presence marks the remnants of a powerful lineage that once rivaled the gods.

—

Volk’s eyes narrowed as he read the text.

Proto-Ogre?

Ascended Form?

The terms were new to him, but they resonated deeply, scratching at the edges of his memory.

This was no ordinary creature. And yet, it was clear that it wasn’t fully one of his own.

The Ogre, Gar’ruk, tilted its massive head slightly, its fiery red eyes locking onto Volk. “WHY YOU HURT YOUNG?”

Its voice rumbled like distant thunder. The accusation hung heavy in the air, and Volk could feel the weight of it pressing down on him.

He lowered his hand, silencing the panicked murmurs of his warriors. He could sense their fear, their hesitation.

This creature had shaken them to their core. But Volk… Volk wasn’t afraid.

He stepped forward, his crimson gauntlet glowing faintly as he clenched his fist.

“This isn’t just another Ogre,” Volk said, his voice calm but loud enough for his warriors to hear. “This is something else entirely, so I hope the Orcs will be prepared.”

Behind him, the Orcs whispered among themselves, their fear giving way to curiosity. But Volk didn’t wait for their questions.

His focus remained entirely on Gar’ruk, the towering beast whose mere presence was enough to shake his hardened warriors.

For now, he simply stared into the burning eyes of the so-called Rememberer.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep