The golden-feathered owl leader, his once-proud plumage now dull and disheveled, flapped weakly as he hovered just above the ground. His pride was shredded, his dignity long since tossed aside like a forgotten relic. His piercing eyes, once filled with superiority and confidence, now carried a desperate, pleading light as he turned to Volk, who stood at the center of his chaotic Horde like a warlord presiding over a festival.

“P-please,” the owl leader croaked, his voice cracking with exhaustion and humiliation. “I beg you… this is beneath even the vilest of creatures. Spare me this disgrace!”

Volk raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he considered the words. A sly smirk tugged at his lips. “Spare you? Hah! Where was your mercy when you mocked us earlier? Where was your dignity when you threatened my life like some pompous overlord? You didn’t seem to think we deserved any mercy then.”

The leader flinched, his beak opening as if to retort, but before he could speak, one of the ogres stepped forward. The towering figure, grinning ear to ear, loomed over the owl leader like a mountain casting a shadow over a lonely tree. “This one’s too noisy,” the ogre rumbled, his massive hand swatting the owl leader with surprising speed and precision.

Thwack!

The owl leader squawked in shock as the blow sent him spinning through the air, his wings flailing helplessly. He landed unceremoniously in a heap several feet away, groaning as he struggled to right himself.

Before he could recover, a goblin darted forward, his small frame a blur of motion. “My turn!” the goblin cried gleefully, leaping into the air and delivering a swift kick to the owl leader’s side.

Bam!

The leader let out a pitiful screech as he was sent skidding across the ground, his feathers scattering like autumn leaves. He managed to lift his head, his gaze filled with despair as he looked toward his fallen comrades.

The other owl people, who had surrendered earlier and now sat bound and huddled together, watched the scene unfold with wide, horrified eyes. Their regal demeanor was shattered, replaced by an oppressive silence born of sheer fear. They exchanged nervous glances, their talons clutching at the dirt as they tried to shrink into themselves.

“This… this isn’t right,” one of the bound owl people whispered, his voice trembling. “Our leader… reduced to this…?”

Another shook his head, his eyes darting between Volk and the ogres. “Did you see that? That beast of an orc just swatted him like a fly! And those goblins… they’re laughing! Laughing while they humiliate him!”

Meanwhile, the owl leader was once again lifted into the air, this time by an orc who spun him around by his leg like a toy. “He’s too light!” the orc complained, shaking the leader for emphasis. “How is this guy supposed to be a challenge?”

Volk chuckled darkly, stepping forward. “Oh, don’t worry,” he said, his vodripping with amusement. “He’s not here to be a challenge anymore. He’s here to be a lesson. A lesson for you, your people, and anyone else who thinks they can look down on my Horde.”

The owl leader gasped, his wings trembling as he looked up at Volk. “L-leader Volk,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please, I—”

Whack!

An ogre’s massive hand sent him tumbling once more, cutting off his words. The Horde burst into laughter, their voices ringing out across the field as the owl leader was batted back and forth like a ragdoll. Goblins scampered around him, occasionally darting in to deliver swift kicks or playful jabs, while the ogres continued to swat him whenever he tried to rise.

“This is what happens,” Volk announced, his voice commanding and sharp, “when you underestimate us. When you think my Horde is nothing but a band of savages.” He gestured grandly to the chaos around him. “Look at us now! Goblins, ogres, orcs—together, we’ve brought down your so-called superior kind. And now?” He laughed, his voice booming. “Now, we’re having fun at your expense.”

The owl leader groaned as he was batted into the air once more, his body limp as he surrendered to the inevitable. The laughter of the Horde was a cacophony that seemed to echo endlessly, drowning out any shred of resistance he might have had left.

From their place on the ground, the surrendered owl people could only watch, their fear deepening with every swat, every laugh, and every declaration of victory from Volk. Their leader, once the pinnacle of pride and power, was now nothing more than a plaything for the Horde.

And at the center of it all stood Volk, his grin wide and his laughter unrestrained. “Let this be a lesson!” he shouted, his voice carrying across the battlefield. “To the sky people, to the land people, to anyone who dares cross my Horde—we are not to be underestimated!”

The golden-feathered leader let out one final, weak groan before being swatted once again, the blow sending him sprawling at Volk’s feet. Volk looked down at him, his grin softening slightly. “You know,” he said conversationally, “you could’ve avoided all this if you’d just kept your beak shut.”

The owl leader didn’t respond, his gaze unfocused as he lay crumpled on the ground.

“Take him away,” Volk commanded, turning to his Horde. “We’re not done with him yet.”

The battlefield grew eerily silent as Volk’s booming voice echoed, “Next!” His finger jabbed forward, pointing directly at the huddled group of bound owl people. The gesture sent an icy shiver through their already trembling forms, their feathers puffing slightly in involuntary panic. They exchanged horrified glances, their golden eyes wide with fear and disbelief.

The leader’s broken form still lay in the dirt nearby, barely conscious, his once-majestic plumage disheveled and stained. The sight of their proud figurehead reduced to a mere plaything had already crushed their spirits, but now, Volk’s command to move on to them felt like the final blow.

One of the younger owls, a slender figure with pale gray feathers, began to sob openly, his muffled cries breaking the tense silence. “Please,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Please, we didn’t mean any harm. We surrender… we…” His words trailed off as a larger owl beside him nudged him sharply with a wing, urging him to keep quiet.

Volk tilted his head, his piercing gaze sweeping over the group like a predator sizing up prey. He took a deliberate step forward, his heavy boots crunching against the dirt. “What’s this?” he said mockingly, his voice laced with amusement. “You’re scared already? I haven’t even started yet.”

The Horde around him chuckled darkly, their laughter rumbling like an ominous storm. Goblins hopped from foot to foot in gleeful anticipation, while the ogres crossed their massive arms, their toothy grins promising no mercy. The orcs stood tall, their eyes gleaming with an almost sadistic joy as they waited for Volk’s next move.

One of the older owl people, a dignified figure with streaks of white in his feathers, pushed himself forward despite the bonds tying his wings. “Great leader Volk,” he began, his voice trembling but still holding a note of formality. “I… we humbly beg for your mercy. We were wrong to oppose you. Please… spare us.”

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Volk raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he considered the plea. He tilted his head slightly, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Spare you?” he repeated, his tone dripping with mockery. “Spare you… like you spared us when you swooped down with your superiority? Like you spared us when you threatened to take my life simply because my existence irritated you?”

The older owl’s beak opened and closed, but no words came out. His head drooped, his courage faltering under Volk’s scornful gaze.

“Thought so,” Volk muttered, his smirk widening. “Next!” he barked again, gesturing sharply toward the remaining owl people.

The younger owl who had sobbed earlier began to cry again, louder this time. “Please!” he wailed, his voice cracking. “We’ll do anything! Anything you want! Just don’t…” His words dissolved into incoherent sobs as he buried his face in his bound wings.

The other owl people shifted uncomfortably, their bindings rustling as they tried to comfort the younger one while also shielding themselves from Volk’s intimidating presence.

Volk snorted, unimpressed. “Anything, huh?” he repeated, his voice cold and detached. He stepped closer, towering over the group as his shadow loomed ominously over their trembling forms. “Do you even know what ‘anything’ means? Or are you just saying it because you’re scared of what happens next?”

“P-please,” another owl stammered, a female with speckled brown feathers. Her voice quivered as she looked up at Volk, her golden eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “We’ll serve you. We’ll do whatever you command. Just… just don’t hurt us anymore.”

Volk stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched, heavy and oppressive, until one of the ogres broke it with a low chuckle. “They’re so pitiful, boss,” the ogre rumbled, his voice thick with amusement. “Are we really gonna waste more time on ’em?”

Volk raised a hand, silencing the ogre instantly. His eyes never left the female owl, who flinched under his gaze but didn’t look away.

The rest of the owl people began to chime in, their voices overlapping in desperate pleas.

“We’ll work for you!”

“We’ll teach you our ways!”

“We’ll fight for your Horde!”

“We’ll do anything! Please, Volk!”

The cacophony of begging grew louder, each voice more desperate than the last. Some owls were practically prostrating themselves on the ground, their heads bowed so low their beaks nearly touched the dirt. Others were weeping openly, their once-proud demeanor shattered.

Volk finally raised a hand, and the cries of the owl people fell silent almost immediately. His piercing gaze swept over the group, his smirk returning as he slowly repeated their final, collective plea:

“Anything?”

His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it carried an unmistakable weight that made the owl people shudder. The way he drew out the word, letting it hang in the air, sent chills down their spines.

“Yes,” the older owl said, his voice barely audible as he nodded. “Anything.”

Volk’s smirk widened, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. “Good,” he said, his tone dangerously calm. “Then let’s see just how far your ‘anything’ goes.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep