239. Taking prisoners

Kai charged right at the orc, just as his massive fist smashed through his own shield—an act that sent cracks through the air and a wave of pressure toward Kai’s head. He ducked. The gust of force brushed past his cheek, but in that brief second, Kai caught a clean glimpse of the bracer strapped around the orc’s thick forearm. It was a crude-looking thing, but the seals on it were humming with mana. He rolled sideways as the orc’s second strike cratered the ground behind him. Dust and sand exploded upward, but Kai was already back on his feet. That shield… it wasn't versatile. The orc had to break through it himself to even land a strike. That was a flaw. And Kai fully intended to exploit it. He stepped back into stance, his spear held low and waited. He didn’t say a single thing—not even to taunt the orc and provoke it. Like all of its kind, this one was already boiling over with bloodlust. Battle-loving and extremely simple-minded. That should be easy. Just as he expected, the orc roared and charged. Kai moved fast, his hand flicked through the spell structure for a modified first circle ice spell. Mana pulsed from his core and sank into the ground ahead of him. In an instant, the earth shifted—sand hardened into slick, icy glass. The orc’s footing vanished. His thick legs skidded, slipped, and crashed forward under his own weight, slamming into the frozen sand with a loud thud. Before he could even snarl, Kai leapt towards him. He drove his spear straight toward the orc's side—but the shield returned with a violent shimmer, stopping the blade in midair with a hard pulse of mana. Sparks flicked at the point of contact. The orc grinned wide, jagged teeth bared. “Stupid human,” he growled, and his hand shot forward to grab Kai’s leg. But Kai was no novice. He jumped before the hand got close, anticipating the exact moment the shield would drop. In the bare fraction of a second that followed, he twisted midair and brought his spear down—straight at the orc’s neck. The blade struck flesh. Blood sprayed, and a deep crimson splattered against the pale frost. The orc choked, one hand darting to his throat. But Kai wasn’t done. He felt it—mana surging around the bracer. That artifact was trying to kick in again. Kai's hand flared. A half-circle of flame exploded from his palm—[Firebolts] conjured in a blink. In the next heartbeat, they raced through the air, trailing heat and sparks. They hit him point-blank—flames bursting against his thick skin, leaving burnt marks all over his body. The orc flailed around his arm to stop them from hitting his face. Despite that, one of them seared into the orc’s eye with a sickening hiss. Kai leapt back just in time as the bracer activated again, and the translucent red shield flared up with a harsh buzz of magic. But it was too late. The damage was already done. The orc howled, his voice shaking the air as he clutched at his bleeding face. Thick blood streamed down his cheek, mixing with the charred skin where the [Firebolts] had scorched him. He snarled at Kai, hatred radiating from his one good eye, then charged. Kai didn’t recoil. He whispered a wind spell and mana sprang into his legs, enhancing his speed, and sidestepped the reckless blow with ease. The orc barreled past him, blind with fury. What followed wasn’t a fight—it was a test. Kai weaved around the orc’s attacks, using feints, half-steps, and short bursts of elemental magic to stay one move ahead. Between each exchange, he probed the artifact. How long did the shield take to activate? Did it move with the orc? Was it chant-based or triggered by intent? And the answers came quickly. The shield only activated when the orc was still and that much was enough for him to put the bracer as a low grade artifact. Kai almost laughed when he realised it. What kind of artifact only worked when the user didn’t move? Maybe it was designed for a defensive stance—but paired with an enraged orc, it was almost useless. And rage was all this one had left. The orc lunged again and again, swinging with wild strength, aiming to crush Kai with every strike. But Kai moved through it all, striking low at the knees, sweeping at the ankles, jabbing the side of his spear into the orc’s ribs before stepping away. Several times, he grazed the already-wounded neck, and blood flowed freely. But the orc kept going. Every time Kai neared it, he activated a small wind shield, letting it burst outward like a repelling gust, knocking the orc off balance just enough to delay a strike. It wasn’t damaging, but it was disorienting—especially paired with pain and a half-blinded gaze. Still, the orc roared, relentless. He swung and stomped like a beast possessed. And Kai understood why. This wasn’t just about pride or duty anymore. The orc had lost an eye. And even with their famed regeneration, that was no small loss. It would take years to recover—if it ever did. Kai spun the spear once more and drove the blunt end into the orc’s gut, pushing him back again. He could see the fury—but also the desperation. Maybe the orc knew it too. He had already lost this fight. But he refused to accept it—he lunged forward, punching Kai who twisted his body to escape before lunging the spear toward the orc’s legs. His tip grazed a wound he had created earlier and the orc shouted. “Belkhor!” Ignoring the pain searing through the orc’s leg, he launched forward again, moving to punch Kai right across the face. This time, he didn’t just redirect it through his shield, he manipulated the wind to slowly envelope the orc’s right hand and seep into the bracers. The orc’s eyes widened. Clearly seeing what was going on. He immediately moved his other hand to hold the bracer, but Kai was quick. He sent out another [Wind Barrier] to block the other arm. With him being trapped in his wind, at least for the next few seconds, Kai received the time he needed to end the farce and gathered flames around his spear. They licked and curled around the tip. Unfortunately, it wasn’t an Enforcer technique since he was still in the first rank. Just a spell, but it was enough. He moved his spear with flames, striking the orc’s legs, hitting the same spot again as he tried to get out of his wind trap. The spear struck true, hitting the same wound he’d made earlier and flames engulfed its legs. Kai stabbed deeper and the orc fell to the ground, crying out in pain and tried to kick him. But Kai was fully in control and dodged the strike. But when he tried to stab deeper, his spear proved futile against the orc's thick skin. That moment of realisation was all he needed to summon a massive wind and flame forged axe. As the weapon conjured in the air, he felt the heat of the axe and saw the wind curling around it, and through it all he saw how the orc looked… feared for the first time. His eyes widened as he tried to use the bracer, but just then Kai’s wind trapped the bracer away. The moment the bracer hit the ground with a metallic thud, Kai moved. He didn’t give the orc a chance to dodge. He swung the axe through the air, and it let out a sharp hum. He brought it down in one clean motion, slicing through the orc’s right leg with a loud crack. The leg dropped to the sand as blood bursted forth. The orc screamed, but Kai didn’t stop. He let the axe vanish and quickly cast an ice spell. Cold spread from his hands, freezing the orc’s body from the legs up to his chest. Only the head was left uncovered. The ice cracked and steamed in the desert heat, but it would hold for now. With no legs and his body trapped, the orc wasn’t going anywhere. Kai turned around, leaving the orc for later, and looked at the rest of the battlefield. One orc was already dead, his body blackened and smoking—probably hit by the Storm Sovereign’s lightning. The other three were still fighting his party. Feroy fought one of them head-on, his strikes hard and heavy. Gareth was taking the second one as he moved fast, dodging punches and cutting back with quick slashes. Kael and Nerris were behind them, acting as support. Farther away, the last orc was surrounded. Claire stood tall, her spirit above her, lightning flashing between them. Maari came from the side, spear ready. Ansel and the others moved in from different angles, keeping the orc off balance. Kai watched them for a moment. They were covered in sweat and blood, but they were fighting well. His party hadn’t suffered many injuries other than a few. Kael wiped blood from his arm, a deep slash trailing down to his elbow. Nearby, Ansel spat a red glob into the sand, his jaw clenched, the corner of his mouth smeared dark, probably from a chest injury he had taken. Nothing life-threatening. A few gulps of potions would fix both. Kai’s gaze shifted from his party to the edge of the battleground, where figures knelt in the dirt. A row of bodies—some groaning, others too still—lay beneath the crumbling shade of a ruined wall. Those who could still move were doing what they could—tying strips of cloth, holding broken limbs in trembling hands. He stepped toward them, his boots crunching the scorched sand. Heads snapped up. The air stiffened. One woman gripped a boy’s wrist tighter. Another reached for a stone lying uselessly nearby. Kai lifted his hand, palm open. “I can help,” he said quietly. “I know some healing spells.” A murmur passed through the group. One woman spoke in a low voice. “A Mage?” He gave a nod and knelt beside a young man whose leg bent the wrong way, blood pooling beneath him. The others still watched, uncertain, but didn’t stop him. With a focused breath, Kai let mana gather in his palm, his fingers glowing faintly as the spell took shape. A soft light passed over the wound. Skin pulled together. The bleeding slowed. A crack popped as bone began to shift back into place. Not perfect, but enough to give the man a chance. He moved down the line, repeating the process. Sweat gathered at his brow. His spells were basic—meant to stabilize, not heal completely. But they did more than nothing. As he pressed a hand over a gash on a woman’s shoulder, he turned slightly, eyes settling on another woman who hadn’t flinched like the others. Her clothes, though torn, were clean and clearly better than others. She watched him, wary but calm. He met her eyes. “Why did the orcs come here?” A flicker passed over her face—grief, confusion, anger, all in one breath. She glanced toward the charred buildings still smoldering behind them. Then she looked away. “They didn’t say. They just broke through the gates. Set fire to everything. Kept shouting…” Her voice cracked. “Said to hand over anyone who could read. Or write.” Kai paused, the spell still flickering in his hand. Of all things… Why were they after that? “Why would they go after people who can read and write?” “I don’t know,” she said softly. “We tried to fight back, but they were too strong. And even though everyone here hates them, most of the men who could fight… ran.” Kai glanced at her hands, and noticed how steady they were despite the shaking in her voice. “But you stayed.” She gave a faint nod. “This is my ancestral land and my husband died fighting for it against the orcs. If I left, who would tend to it? His spirit would wander restlessly if I did nothing.” Kai gave a slow nod. “I’m sorry about your husband.” He turned to the last injured man, his leg split open and swelling. Kneeling down, Kai placed his hand over the wound. Light flickered from his palm, sealing torn flesh and easing the pain. As the man exhaled in relief, Kai looked back at the woman. “Who leads the tribe now?” he asked. “That was my husband’s duty.” Her voice didn’t waver. “He’s gone three years now. I’ve held the post since. Until my son is ready.” Kai blinked, not expecting to be talking to the tribal leader. “Then I suppose introductions are in order. I came here to—” A scream tore through the air. His words died in his throat. He spun around. Ansel was on the ground, his sword knocked from his hand. The last orc—the only one left alive—was towering over him, fists raised and bloodied, ready to hammer down the kill. “Ansel!” Feroy and Gareth were already charging. Lightning cracked overhead as the sovereign roared, but the orc didn’t even slow down. Blood soaked his side, yet he moved with terrifying purpose, as if dying meant nothing if it could drag Ansel with it into the afterlife. Kai narrowed his eyes as a spell circle spun to life on his palm. A dense ball of wind shimmered into existence, then blasted forward with a sharp , slamming into the orc’s face. The creature flew back, hitting the ground with a thud and didn’t move again. Feroy moved to slash at his neck, ending him. Without a word, Kai swept his gaze over the battlefield—burned corpses, scattered limbs, blood soaking into the sand. All the orcs were dead. He gave a short nod to the woman watching his back, then turned and walked toward his party. Things could’ve gone south if Ansel had gotten a serious injury—or worse. But he ignored the thought and continued to walk until he was in front of the latter. Ansel lay on the ground, chest heaving, face smeared with dirt and sweat. He looked up, pale but breathing. “You saved my life, Lord Arzan.” Kai crouched beside him and gave a tired sigh. “Be more careful. Orcs in a rage don’t stop until someone’s dead.” He stood and turned to Feroy. “Any major injuries?” Feroy shook his head, wiping a blade clean on his cloak. “No, Lord Arzan. A few cuts. Nothing a sip of potion won’t fix.” Kai nodded, his expression softening. He gave them all a brief, grateful smile—especially Claire. Her spirit had made a clear difference in the fight, and even Maari was watching her with a new sort of curiosity, as if seeing the girl properly for the first time. Kai gestured toward the wounded villagers. “I’ve healed a few already, but there are more. We should help. I spoke with their leader,” he pointed at the woman, “I assume you know her.” Maari followed his gaze and nodded. “I do. We’ve spoken before.” Her attention shifted to the last orc, the one Kai had frozen earlier. The ice had melted under the sun’s heat, and the creature was still trying to crawl away, dragging his half-frozen body across the sand, eyes burning with hate. Kai stepped closer, watching the orc struggle. “What do we do with him?” she asked. He looked back at her. “We interrogate,” he said. “We need answers. Why are they taking people… and where are they keeping them? I believe this one would know. If he's important enough to get an artifact, he should have answers. We just have to make him talk.” *** A/N - You can read 30 chapters (15 Magus Reborn and 15 Dao of money) on my patreon. Annual subscription is now on too. Read 15 chapters ahead HERE. Join the discord server HERE.