Lhum’Baggar breathed heavily, his chest heaving as he stood ready, his eyes locked onto Luk’Tar, who now prowled around him in a predatory circle.

The air was thick with tension, every muscle in Lhum’Baggar’s body coiled, anticipating the next strike. But there was something about Luk’Tar’s movements that unsettled him, something dark, almost feral.

“I see it in your eyes, brother,” Luk’Tar sneered, his voice dripping with malice. “You don’t understand what you’re looking at, do you?”

He chuckled darkly, the sound crawling under Lhum’Baggar’s skin like a thousand spiders.

Luk’Tar’s form had changed, grown larger, his muscles bulging unnaturally. His skin had taken on a darker hue, his eyes gleaming with an eerie light.

He was not just a normal Ogre anymore.

He had become something more.

Something darker.

“I’ll tell you what this is,” Luk’Tar continued, circling closer, his steps deliberate, almost mocking. “This… is power. Real power. Power you’ll never know, Lhum’Baggar.” He grinned, baring his teeth. “This is the Grum-gar form, Phase Three.

A form you’ll never achieve in your pathetic life.”

Lhum’Baggar’s eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of his twisted brother. “Phase Three?” he growled through clenched teeth.

“That’s right,” Luk’Tar gloated, raising his arms and flexing the grotesque muscles that rippled beneath his skin.

“The ultimate evolution of our kind before the fifth Mag’Durotan. A power reserved only for those who are chosen. You wouldn’t understand it. You’re still fumbling around in Phase One like a child playing with sticks.”

Lhum’Baggar’s heart pounded with rage. He had worked his entire life to perfect the Grum-gar form, dedicating every ounce of his strength to the tribe, to honor. And here was Luk’Tar, mocking him, claiming to have surpassed him in ways that were unfathomable.

“You always thought you were better than me, didn’t you, brother?” Luk’Tar spat, his tone venomous. “Just because you awakened the Grum-gar form before I did. But look at you now! Weak. Pitiful. You couldn’t even protect your own wife!”

Lhum’Baggar’s fists clenched tighter, his knuckles turning white.

Every word Luk’Tar said stoked the fire of his fury, igniting something deep within him.

He could feel it building, the raw power of his Grum-gar form, struggling to break free.

“You’re wrong!” Lhum’Baggar shouted, his voice thunderous. “You’re not the only one who can transform!”

With a guttural roar, Lhum’Baggar’s body erupted with energy, his muscles expanding, his veins bulging as his skin took on the familiar glow of the Grum-gar form.

His transformation was violent, powerful, and within moments, he stood at the same massive height as Luk’Tar. But even with their matching size, Lhum’Baggar had something his brother didn’t—years of experience and training.

Lhum’Baggar’s body glowed with the strength of the 5th Mag’Durotan state, a level far beyond Luk’Tar’s mere 1st. His aura radiated power, and for the first time, Luk’Tar’s sneer faltered.

The beatdown that followed was swift and brutal.

Lhum’Baggar unleashed his full fury upon his brother, his fists pounding into

Luk’Tar’s body with devastating force.

Blow after blow rained down, each one fueled by years of suppressed anger and betrayal.

Luk’Tar’s earlier bravado quickly turned to panic as he realized he was outmatched.

“THIS? POWER? LUK’TAR? Is this the strength you bragged about?” Lhum’Baggar roared, his fists slamming into his brother’s ribs with a sickening crack.

Luk’Tar howled in pain, but his crazed laughter still echoed through the night, even as blood poured from his mouth.

He tried to fight back, but Lhum’Baggar’s superior strength overwhelmed him.

Desperation crept into Luk’Tar’s eyes as he struggled against his elder brother’s relentless assault.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a thunderous BANG.

Lhum’Baggar staggered as something massive struck him from behind.

The force sent him skidding across the ground, his body slamming into a boulder with bone-jarring impact.

Dazed, he looked up, his vision blurry, trying to make sense of what had hit him.

And then he saw him.

Lak’Ran Durghan, their father, stood tall and imposing, his Grum-gar form even more grotesque than Luk’Tar’s. His skin was darker, almost black, and his eyes—those once proud and fierce eyes—were now completely consumed by inky darkness, devoid of any light or soul.

“FATHER…?” Lhum’Baggar muttered, struggling to his feet.

Lak’Ran stood over him, a massive war hammer gripped in his hand, its head still dripping with Lhum’Baggar’s blood.

“Come with us, Lhum’Baggar,” Lak’Ran said, his voice a low, commanding growl.

There was something off about him, something unnatural, but Lhum’Baggar couldn’t quite place it.

His father had always been strict, always been harsh, but this… this was different.

Before Lhum’Baggar could respond, a weak, trembling voice reached his ears. “Elf… Dark… Elf…”

Lhum’Baggar’s head snapped toward the sound, his heart freezing in his chest.

It was his wife, barely able to speak, her voice a faint whisper.

Her body was trembling, her once beautiful features now gaunt and pale, as though something had drained the life out of her. And then it clicked—the dark magic, the strange transformation, the twisted power surrounding both Luk’Tar and their father.

Dark Elves.

Lhum’Baggar’s blood ran cold.

The Dark Elves were predators, hunters of their tribe, just like the Red Elven Warlocks.

The Hornless Orcs had long been caught in the middle of the endless war between the two, often falling victim to their insidious plots. And now, they had come for his family.

Luk’Tar let out another deranged laugh.

“Yes, brother! The Dark Elves! My new master, Lady Shyvria, has shown me true power. She’s given me everything I’ve ever wanted—strength, more women, and freedom! No more slaving away for the tribe, no more following weaklings like Volk!”

He grinned, his madness gleaming in his eyes. “You can join us, Lhum’Baggar. You can have it all! Power beyond your wildest dreams! Just look at father—look at me! This is what we were meant to become!”

Lhum’Baggar’s mind raced as he processed his brother’s words.

Dark Elves.

Luk’Tar had sold his soul to them, and now they wanted him to do the same.

“NO…NO…” Lhum’Baggar muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. But before he could fully react, Luk’Tar moved quickly toward Lhum’Baggar’s wife, his hand gripping a strange vial filled with a glowing black liquid.

Luk’Tar forced the vial into her mouth, tipping her head back as the liquid poured down her throat.

Lhum’Baggar’s heart leaped into his throat as he watched in horror, unable to move fast enough to stop it.

Lak’Ran, standing stoic and uncaring, spoke again. “She will join us, Lhum’Baggar. It’s the only way.”

“NO!” Lhum’Baggar screamed, lunging forward, but it was too late.

His wife’s body began to convulse, her skin darkening, her eyes turning black like Lak’Ran’s.

The corruption was spreading through her rapidly, consuming her from the inside out. But even in her final moments, her voice remained defiant.

“I… will never betray… my clan… our clan!” she gasped, her voice so weak but resolute. Her eyes locked onto Lhum’Baggar’s, filled with love and sorrow. “I… will always…

love you.”

And then, with a violent explosion of pure hazard, her body disintegrated, leaving nothing but a void where she once stood.

The blast sent a shockwave through the air, knocking Lhum’Baggar off his feet.

“NO… NO… NOOOO!”

Lhum’Baggar’s scream tore through the night, with his grief and rage spilling over in an uncontrollable torrent.

His wife was gone. His brother and father had betrayed him. Everything he had ever known, ever loved, had been ripped away from him in the span of minutes.

Lak’Ran stared down at the spot where his daughter-in-law had perished, with his expression remaining cold and indifferent as if she was nothing.

“Foolish witch,” he muttered under his breath. Then, turning his gaze back to Lhum’Baggar, he said, “You’re a disappointment, my son.”

Lhum’Baggar’s eyes blazed with fury as he slowly rose to his feet, his body shaking with barely contained rage. “ME… KILL YOU… BOOOOTH!!!!” he growled, his voice trembling with emotion. “ME… KILL YOU… BOOOOTH!!!!”

The night was silent, save for the crackling of the distant fire, as father and son stared each other down, the rift between them now an unbridgeable chasm of their differences.

“So be it,” Lak’Ran would mumble.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep