The First Vampire

Chapter 677: 675 Sack_1
 

The night shrouded, the moon shone faint and the stars scarce.

Yet, in the woods, an intense scent of blood lingered.

“Waaaaaaaaaagh!”

The roar of an orc disturbed the birds in the trees, shattering the stillness of the night.

A massive figure, all of five meters tall, suddenly ripped a pine tree out of the ground, charging the enemy ahead with an air of invincible dominance.

Boom!

A wave of pressure and air swept across the forest like a tide, mud and fresh blood splashing in all directions.

With the enemy repelled from his first attack, Sack, stained red with blood and holding the pine tree, hollered to his companions behind him:

“Go ahead, you guys!”

Having spoken, the burly beast reared up, swinging the hefty pine tree once more.

Boom!

The trunk of the pine tree exploded upon impact, a giant axe cleaving towards Sack’s forehead with an energy that felt limitless.

Sack roared, lunging forward instead of falling back.

The orc opponent was evidently taken aback by Sack’s ferociousness. His face registered surprise, and by the time he wanted to parry, it was already too late.

Thud!

In a mighty dull thump, Sack sent his opponent flying and proceeded to lash out with his iron fists, pounding him relentlessly.

Thud!

Thud!

Thud!

His field of vision gradually smeared with blood, reason retirng from Sack’s mind only to be replaced by infinite madness and an insatiable thirst for slaughter.

He had gone berserk.

From this moment, the smell of blood in the woods became drastically more potent.

…

Who knows how long after.

When Sack regained consciousness, he was overwhelmed by a feeling of exhaustion and lethargy.

He lay there for what felt like an eternity before he managed to struggle to his feet.

The ground was strewn with mutilated corpses, some from enemy tribes and others from his own Blacktooth tribe…

Following the death of Orcish Emperor Saruman, the nascent Orc Third Empire unsurprisingly disintegrated.@@novelbin@@

The conflicts among the tribes, once held in check, had erupted once again, particularly with tribes severely harmed in the Battle of Luwal Valley. They had become the primary targets for persecution and extermination from enemy tribes.

Sack’s tribe, the Blacktooth, was one of them.

Sometimes, Sack didn’t understand why orcs couldn’t control internal conflict like humans.

But now wasn’t the time to ponder such matters, Sack knew he couldn’t linger here. He had to find his companions as soon as possible.

Therefore, despite his wounds, he started searching through the woods for any signs or traces left by his companions, and followed them.

In the darkest hours before dawn, Sack finally managed to catch up with the rest of his tribe.

But when he arrived, the atmosphere was oppressively bleak.

“What happened?”

“Sack? Your…your father…he’s dead.”

The news came like a bolt from the blue, plunging Sack, who had just cheated death, into the abyss once again.

Because it meant not only had Sack lost his last remaining family, but the Blacktooth tribe had also lost its last Shaman!

Shamen in orcish society played a similar role to priests in human society.

Not primarily fighters, they were crucial nonetheless.

On the one hand, Shaman maintained the tribe’s faith and spiritual cohesion. Additionally, the birth of an orc Skull-shatterer required a conversion rite presided over by a Shaman.

A tribe without a Shaman was a tribe without the ability to communicate with the deities, and more tragically, without the possibility of creating more Skull-shatterers.

The Blacktooth tribe had no future left.

Sack came in a trance to his father’s corpse and sank to his knees, his eyes empty and vacant as if he could no longer muster the expression of grief.

The first light of dawn slowly tore through the darkness that shrouded the earth, bringing light back to the world.

The distant mountains echoed again with the roar of beasts.

The chase by rival tribes was near at hand.

Given the circumstances, the Blacktooth tribesmen who had lost all hope for the future quietly slipped away one by one.

Only Sack remained, staring blankly at his father’s corpse, motionless like a wooden sculpture.

By noon, the hundred or so Orc warriors from the Blacktooth tribe who had once gathered here had all disappeared without a trace.

However, the woods suddenly fell silent as well.

Perhaps the fleeing tribespeople had drawn the pursuers away.

But Sack had lost interest in these matters. With his heart now as dead as ashes, he even longed for his enemies to find him sooner rather than later, to have one last goodbye fight before his painful departure from this world.

Perhaps hearing his heart’s desire, the footsteps grew closer and closer.

However, these weren’t the steps of a group of Orcs but of a single individual.

Sack remained motionless until the figure approached him, and spoke:

“Do you desire revenge?”

Upon hearing these words, a glimmer sparked in Sack’s eyes. He lifted his head with a rigid motion and asked the strange human who had suddenly appeared before him:

“Who are you?”

“You can call me Mr. Ji.”

“Mr. Ji? I’ve heard of you…”

“Do you desire revenge?”

“Yes!”

“Very well.” Mr. Ji nodded approvingly, then pointed at Sack’s father’s corpse, saying, “Then open his chest and take out his heart.”

Sack’s fists clenched suddenly, and a dangerous light flickered in his eyes.

But in the next moment, the terrifying aura of the Holy Knight enveloped him, leaving him unable to move.

Mr. Ji’s indifferent voice rang out again:

“Don’t overestimate yourself. If I wanted to kill you or insult your father, I wouldn’t need to go through all this trouble. So, I’ll give you another chance.”

“If you seek revenge, do as I say.”

Sack’s breathing became rapid, and his eyes turned blood-red as if he were about to go berserk.

But under Mr Ji’s deep and overwhelming aura, Sack finally calmed down.

“How… How can you help me avenge?” Sack asked again, his demeanor much more pliable.

Mr. Ji seemed somewhat impatient but elaborated nonetheless:

“You wouldn’t understand the means I use, but what I can tell you is that Saru’s ascension to the Holy Field would not have been possible without our help.”

Sack’s eyes finally lit up, and he asked with a tone of incredulity and expectation:

“Can you help me achieve the Holy Field?”

Mr. Ji didn’t speak, either disdainful of the question or afraid to make a promise he couldn’t keep.

He just stared coldly at Sack, seemingly almost out of patience.

Despite not receiving a straight answer, Sack’s gaze gradually steadied.

After all, he had nowhere else to turn.

Except for reaching the Holy Field, there appeared to be no other way to save the Blacktooth tribe, or even the Orc Empire.

Even if this human Holy Knight harbored ulterior motives, Sack, with no other options, was willing to take the gamble.

“Okay! Please help me!”

As soon as he finished speaking, Mr. Ji’s aura instantly retracted.

Once his mobility was restored, Sack didn’t hesitate. He pulled out the dagger at his waist and cut open his own father’s chest!