While Thalion was working hard on his cultivation inside the system shop, he had no idea that war was breaking out between godly factions. It had all started with the weakened Tenebrice and the Spider Queen making a move on the Blood Witch Morgana. At first, so factions wanted to take advantage of their strongest rivals being occupied, like vultures circling a wounded beast, eager to tear away the scraps. But they quickly forgot that their own domains and even so gods themselves, could beco targets in the chaos.
In the war between gods, only the strongest S-grades could play even a minor role. All beneath that level of power were nothing more than ants on a battlefield of giants. Well, at least not in the already integrated space. But there was a new universe coming soon with fresh lands to conquer, new thrones to claim. And that led every faction to pour their resources into the fighters who would be able to travel there.
So many incursions were bought that the system had already raised the price to absurd, sky-high levels, like a rchant gouging water in the middle of a drought. Still, the factions kept buying more and more. At this point, there were more incursions planned for the new universe than for the last four eras combined.
For a god, bringing a chosen to godhood was invaluable. It was like planting a seed that could one day grow into a tree vast enough to shield even its creator. A chosen’s ascension could allow the god to recover from a loss of power, perhaps even surpass their rivals. With so many factions at war, gods were paying imnse sums to strengthen their chosen, while also placing high bounties on the heads of their enemies’ chosen.
One faction, however, was not satisfied with balance. They were eager to kill as many as possible. A faction of brutal warriors whose re physique was often enough to crush most foes. The orcs.
There were many orc clans scattered throughout the multiverse, but only one that could play in the highest league. This was thanks to their incredibly powerful patriarch. Ghor’Vhar, the Warbringer. His domain was unlike that of most gods at his level. Where others built empires around rare treasures that amplified their power, Ghor’Vhar had no such reliance. He didn’t need treasures. He would take them from the slain gods who wielded such things, crushing their domains beneath his waraxe. None had matched his path.
He was a god of war. Battle was his heartbeat, conquest his breath, and slaughter his hymn. Constantly, he raged wars against other gods, and the current multiversal frenzy played perfectly into his hands.
For orcs, two classes always stood at the forefront of renown. The shaman and the warrior. And Ghor’Vhar was the latter. Magic was nothing to him. He and his waraxe had always been enough to carve through any enemy.
His domain was a cluster of planets, covered in massive war tents and battlefields that stretched like endless scars across the land. These worlds served as trainingground for his weaker followers, where they would be “hardened” before being sent into real wars. But this hardening was anything but gentle. It was like tempering steel in fire, only most blades shattered before they could ever be sharpened. The death rate was high, but those who survived were far stronger than most opponents at their rank. His followers were feared across the universe.
Now, Ghor’Vhar had decided it was ti for a grand offensive. While he himself would continue killing gods, his mortal followers would be unleashed into the tutorial to slaughter as many chosen as possible.
Ghor’Vhars Chosen had already conquered his own tutorial and would soon move on to the new planet fused with elves and vampires. Humans would be there as well, but they were weak, nothing more than cattle. Humans were like dry firewood, useful only when burned to fuel shamanic spells. His wives, all powerful shamans, had their own chosen inside the tutorial. Not the sa as his, but they would all converge on the sa world.
He could already imagine the faces of the faction leaders who had poured everything into tutorials, only to realize that this particular planet would hold over twelve chosen orcs. Just days ago, Ghor’Vhar had been worried about Ankhet, but since that one was dead for good, the new planet would soon belong to the orcs.
Vampires and elves were strong races, yes, but there were also humans, fodder, fuel, and leverage. His chosen was already a powerhouse, a lucky find. Normally, he needed to mold his chosen into brutality, but this one ca ready and born for war.
This planet would be interesting for more reasons still. The chosen of that arrogant mage-god would be there. The vampire’s chosen. The ranger’s. The shining servant of the light god Solarian. Even a few elven prodigies. And because it was one of the smaller planets, it ant only one thing. Sooner rather than later, the world would drown in carnage.
Carnage was exactly where his chosen would rise. No one could adapt to blood and chaos like the orcs.
He also knew that the traitor Shargaz had a few blessed hidden among the orcs in the tutorial. That those were slain was crucial. Shargaz could not be allowed to gain power through such treachery. The only reason that traitor still lived was because of his dangerous alliance and personal strength. Ghor’Vhar was not yet strong enough to kill him in his own domain.
Ghor’Vhar exhaled slowly to calm himself, and a wide grin spread across his face.
War was coming. A war on a multiversal scale. A storm so vast that countless empires would be swept away like sandcastles before the tide. Many would fall. Many new ones would rise. And among them, Ghor’Vhar would shine, his star burning brighter, hotter, more terrible than ever before.
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