Re: In My Bloody Hit Novel

Chiron turned slowly toward the three Orc chiefs, his presence commanding an oppressive silence. His crimson eyes glinted with something dangerous, and a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

The three Orcs knelt immediately, their massive frames shaking slightly under the weight of his gaze. After all, his level was significantly higher.

Even the female among them, who was known for her unshakable resolve, found herself trembling. The title "Prophet" left Chiron's lips, and it wasn't just a title—it was a proclamation, one that carried both blessing and threat.

"Welcome to my castle," Chiron said, gesturing lazily to the grand room they stood in. The throne room, like everything in the Fog of Unbounded Demise, was both grotesque and magnificent. The walls pulsed faintly as if alive, carved with runes that whispered in an ancient, forgotten tongue. Columns of twisting bone reached up to a vaulted ceiling adorned with the images of battles between long-dead gods and titans.

At the center of the room stood a blackened throne, its armrests formed from fused skulls, each with its mouth open in a silent scream.

The air was thick, suffused with the scent of blood and despair, yet oddly intoxicating, as if inviting one to indulge in their basest desires.

Emma stood near the throne, her beauty radiating like a curse designed to unravel the strongest of wills. Her smile was both enchanting and deadly, a perfect blend of temptation and terror.

"I see you noticed the preparations outside," Chiron said, his voice calm yet sharp as a blade. "The blood pool is being enriched as we speak. You see, the flesh and blood of your lesser kin have their uses. Sacrifice is power, and power is absolute." He stepped down from the dais, his black cloak trailing behind him like a shadow eager to consume.

The Orcs dared not respond. Instead, they nodded their massive heads in unison, though one of them—a younger chief with scars running across his face—couldn't help but glance at the floating, mutilated figure.

Chiron stepped closer, his voice calm yet filled with authority, "Do not be afraid. You have been chosen. Chosen to carry the message of salvation, of liberation, to every corner of this cursed existence."

The Orc chiefs exchanged glances, their expressions filled with skepticism. One of them dared to speak, "You are... human. Why should we believe you?"

Chiron's smirk deepened, and a chilling chuckle escaped his lips. "Human? Do not worry about this form," he said, raising his hands slightly. "This is not my true nature. Allow me to show you the truth."

From nowhere, blood began to manifest around him, swirling in thick crimson tendrils that wrapped around his body like living threads. The atmosphere in the room shifted violently, and the three Orcs instinctively stepped back. The blood cocoon twisted and pulsed, growing larger and larger until it suddenly burst apart, revealing Chiron in an entirely new form.

Standing before them was a towering, monstrous Orc—his body rippling with raw power and his skin a dark, ominous green. Nine enormous heads sat upon his shoulders, each one bearing a slightly different expression, but all radiating an undeniable aura of dominance. The air crackled with energy as his transformation completed.

The Orc chiefs immediately fell to their knees, pressing their faces to the cold stone floor in reverence. "Nine heads...!" one of them whispered, his voice trembling with awe. The highest any Orc had ever achieved in their history was three heads, and that was only in ancient legends. A nine-headed Orc had only been spoken of in the oldest of myths, and none had ever believed it possible—until now.

This was something even Chiron knew.

Chiron's voice boomed, deep and commanding, as he spoke again. "I am no mere mortal. I am the incarnation of the God Messiah, birthed by the forbidden zone itself to liberate the Orcs—and eventually the rest of this wretched world. The countless deaths, the endless sacrifices within this forbidden zone, have all led to my creation. I am the chosen one, the one foretold to bring you into everlasting glory."

The Orcs listened, wide-eyed and trembling as Chiron wove lies of legend into their ears. "Have you not heard of the great prophecy of the Forbidden Fog of Unbounded Demise? That one day, when enough blood has soaked its cursed lands, a savior would rise from the ashes of despair? That savior is me. I am the product of centuries of torment, of unrelenting sacrifice. I am the answer to your prayers and the harbinger of a new age."

He continued, his nine heads speaking in unison, their voices blending into a mesmerizing, almost hypnotic melody. "Your ancestors, your brethren who perished in this place—they are not lost. Their deaths were not in vain. They were the foundation of my ascension, the price paid to birth me into existence. And now, through me, their dreams of liberation and glory will be realized."

The chiefs began to weep, tears streaming down their faces as they lowered themselves further in worship. "You are the Messiah! You are the one we've been waiting for!" they cried out, their voices shaking with fervent belief.

Chiron stretched out his arms, his nine heads looking down upon them with what seemed like divine approval. "Rise, my Prophets," he commanded, and they obeyed without hesitation. "You will carry my message to all Orcs. You will spread the truth of my arrival and prepare the way for my dominion. Together, we shall break the chains of oppression and carve out an eternal legacy for our kind."

The Orcs roared in agreement, their spirits ignited by the words of their new "God Messiah." As they stood, they could feel the weight of their mission settling upon them, but also the thrill of being chosen for something so monumental.

Chiron watched them with satisfaction, his nine heads smiling in unison as the seeds of his deception took root deep in their hearts. The path to control and domination had begun.

Later on, they left the castle with two things. Firstly, each of them had new runes carved on their skin as they were gifted new weapons.

When they left and allowed to go back to their tribes, Emma could not help but ask why Chiron had been so insistent on bringing the barbaric orcs here.

Chiron smiled at her. "Its an experiment."

"Experiment?"

"Yes... Time moves differently in this place. It is the perfect region to test it out. I want to know the quality quotient of how i am to spread Faith..."

Emma was in obvious confusion, but Chiron told her to be patient and observe.