Fairy Tale: With Sin Of Pride

"Who dared to do this to my brother?!"

The roar shook the air, emanating from a towering figure within the pig-headed tribe's encampment. Standing over four meters tall, the hulking beast was covered in unkempt, dirty hair. Two enormous tusks jutted from his ferocious face, while a heavy nose ring dangled from his snout. His bloodshot eyes glared with fury, a wild, primal rage burning in them.

This was Peppa, the Wild Boar King—leader of the pig-headed clan, one of the twenty-four royal tribes of the orc race. As a Saint-level warrior at the peak of his domain, even the Beast King himself tread cautiously around him.

Yet here he stood, trembling with anger, staring down at his brother, mutilated and left on the verge of death.

"Brother, you must avenge me!" the injured pig-headed man cried, his voice choked with hatred. "I want that human as my slave, so I can make him suffer in ways he'll beg for death!"

His body had been patched up by the clan's witch doctor, yet his severed limbs remained irreplaceable. Worse still, his dignity as a male pig-headed orc had been utterly stripped away. The humiliation would haunt him for the rest of his days, leaving him a broken joke among their kind.

"The wounds... they bear a strange power," the witch doctor muttered nervously, hesitant to meet the Wild Boar King's gaze. "As long as this force lingers, the injuries will never heal."

"Useless trash. Get out!" Peppa growled, dismissing the witch doctor with a wave of his massive hand.

But even he knew it wasn't the doctor's fault. After a moment of silence, his deep voice thundered again.

"Bring the High Priest!"

---

The structure of orc tribes was complex. Each clan had two leaders of sorts: a chieftain, responsible for warfare and governance, and a priest, tasked with communing with the gods and serving as the tribe's spiritual guide.

In a world where gods tangibly existed, priests often commanded even more respect than chieftains. After all, a tribe could survive without a leader—but never without someone to offer sacrifices to the divine.

Coughing echoed outside the tent as the High Priest entered—a frail figure with bones tied to his staff and his face painted with colorful dyes. His old frame trembled slightly, but his aura commanded reverence.

"High Priest," Peppa said, his voice dipping with rare humility. "I need your wisdom to track down the human responsible."

The High Priest nodded slowly. "Very well, but divining a person's location takes an enormous toll on one's vitality. After this, you must not seek me for at least a month."

He pulled a tortoiseshell from his robes and began to chant in an ancient tongue. Behind him, the phantom of the Beast God materialized, its presence suffusing the room with divine power.

The divination seemed simple enough at first—just the location of a human. Yet, as the ritual progressed, the High Priest's expression twisted into one of agony. A bead of cold sweat rolled down his wrinkled face as veins bulged across his temple.

A force far greater than his own blocked the divination. This wasn't the work of another god but rather the will of the world itself—an immutable destiny cloaking the human in shadows.

He was not supposed to exist in this era.

"A man of destiny," the High Priest rasped, his voice trembling.

"What's wrong?" Peppa demanded, unease creeping into his tone as he watched the priest struggle.

But the High Priest could only point in a single direction before he collapsed, blood spurting from his lips.

Darkness.

In his final moments, he had glimpsed an all-consuming darkness—a tangled web of fate that ensnared gods and mortals alike. That human would bring destruction, not just to the pig-headed clan but to the entire orc race.

And then, he died.

---

Peppa stared blankly at the lifeless body before him.

A demigod. Dead from attempting to locate a mere human?

Peppa scoffed, shaking off his unease. "The High Priest must have exhausted his lifespan," he muttered dismissively. "Bury him with honor. He has returned to the embrace of the Beast God."

After giving orders for the burial, his crimson eyes glinted with renewed fury.

"Assemble the elite army!" he bellowed. "I'll show the world what happens when they provoke the Wild Boar King!"

---

Elsewhere, Rhodes stood before a liberated group of slaves. Behind him, the scattered remains of monsters littered the battlefield, and the faint glow of a divine magic ball radiated from his palm.

The once-faint magic within the ball had grown stronger, condensed by the prayers of the freed. But it was still far from forming the divine artifact Rhodes envisioned.

Turning his gaze forward, he spotted a sprawling city in the distance. At its center loomed a massive statue of a dwarven god, holding a colossal hammer in its hands.

"City of Mountain Fire," Rhodes murmured to himself. One of the three major cities of the dwarves and home to millions of master blacksmiths.

This sacred city was ruled by three dwarven leaders, each a demigod in their own right.

"A demigod-level blacksmith…" Rhodes chuckled, intrigued. "They might just have the skill to forge what I need."

He intended to commission a set of equipment that could establish a magic network quickly. However, dwarves were notoriously stubborn. Convincing them to cooperate would be no small feat.

As he approached the city gates, two dwarven guards blocked his path. Bare-chested and brimming with fiery tempers, their bulging muscles and curly red hair gave them an intimidating presence.

"Outsiders are forbidden in Mountain Fire City," one growled.

"Move," Rhodes ordered lazily, unleashing a wave of draconic power.

The guards fell to their knees instantly, unconscious before they hit the ground.

"This barrier, though…" Rhodes muttered, eyeing the shimmering magical defense surrounding the city. A product of dwarven ingenuity, it was reinforced by the divine power of their god. Breaking through it by force would be nearly impossible, even for him.

"Nearly," he added with a smirk.

Summoning his Holy Shadow Dragon, a magic circle formed beneath his feet, radiating pale and dark energy. The dragon roared, unleashing a blast of concentrated light and shadow magic.

The barrier rippled, revealing a hairline crack that vanished just as quickly.

"Interesting," Rhodes mused. "Looks like this will take some effort after all."

And with that, he prepared for round two.

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