Re:Crafting in Another World
Chapter 81: Orcs IV - Follow the flame

Chapter 81: Orcs IV - Follow the flame

The flame wall roared behind him, a towering inferno that marked the borders of their crumbling camp. Urak stood at its edge, arms crossed, the fire’s reflection dancing in his cold, savage eyes. Around him, the tribe had fallen into chaos.

Some orcs ignored him, too broken to care anymore. Others — the weak, the desperate — flocked to his lackeys, now self-proclaimed "rulers" of the food stores. They hoarded what little remained, forcing others to grovel and beg for scraps like dogs.

Urak smiled to himself.

Finally.

Finally, they understood who held power.

The air shifted.

Boots crunched against the dusty earth behind him. He didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

"Are you happy now?" growled a low, feminine voice. "You sent one of our strongest to die in the cursed forest."

Urak turned lazily, a smug grin spreading across his thick jaw.

Grenka stood there, fists clenched, her whole body trembling — not from fear, but rage. Her tusks gleamed under the firelight, and her hair, braided in warrior’s knots, whipped behind her like the tail of a furious beast.

He chuckled. "Happy?" He licked his lips mockingly. "I’m ecstatic. Happier than when I was cutting down those squealing human women in the last raid."

Grenka snarled, taking a step forward. "You’re rotten, Urak. Always were."

He tilted his head, studying her. "What?" he said, voice dripping with mock innocence. "You want to fight me, little Grenka? Come, then. Show me."

He cracked his neck loudly, rolling his massive shoulders as he fully faced her. His muscles, thick as tree trunks, rippled under his rough hide armor.

"It’s true I lost to Ka’ra before," he sneered. "That woman... always favored by Father. Always praised, always held up high while I was spat on like some cur!" His voice deepened into a snarl. "But she’s gone now. Sent her right into the jaws of the forest! And me...?" He thudded a fist against his chest. "I’m stronger than any of you left."

Grenka’s eyes narrowed to slits.

"So what?" she said quietly.

Her voice was a whisper against the roaring flames, but it hit harder than a war hammer.

"You sent Ka’ra to die. You betrayed your own blood. Your own tribe."

She drew her blade in a single motion, the steel catching the firelight with a deadly gleam.

"I will never forgive you."

Without warning, she charged.

Urak roared, grinning wide, and met her head-on.

Their clash was a shockwave. Grenka moved fast, faster than anyone her size had a right to, slicing low and aiming for his legs. Urak stepped back just in time, the blade slicing a shallow cut across his thigh.

He grunted, more annoyed than hurt, and swung a heavy backhand.

Grenka ducked, rolled, and came up with a slash aimed at his side.

He twisted, grabbed her wrist mid-strike, and squeezed.

Bones creaked.

Grenka gritted her teeth and drove her free fist into his ribs.

Urak laughed.

The punch barely made him stumble.

"You’re not Ka’ra," he said, eyes gleaming with cruelty.

"She would have broken my jaw with that."

Grenka snarled and twisted in his grip, driving her knee up into his gut.

This time, he grunted, momentarily loosening his hold.

Grenka ripped free, leapt back, and circled, breathing heavily.

The other orcs had gathered now, drawn by the noise.

They stood at a distance, shadows against the flickering flame wall, watching, murmuring — but none dared intervene.

"Still trying?" Urak taunted, rolling his shoulder. "Come, Grenka. Show me Ka’ra’s spirit. Show me why she kept weaklings like you beside her."

Grenka roared and lunged again, feinting a low sweep before springing upward, aiming a devastating strike at Urak’s throat.

He caught the blade with his bare hand.

Blood dripped from between his fingers — but he didn’t let go.

Instead, he jerked the sword out of her hands and snapped it in two like a twig.

Grenka’s eyes widened for just a moment — a fatal moment.

Urak moved, ramming his fist into her gut.

The impact lifted her off the ground, sending her sprawling across the dirt.

Pain flashed across her face, but she forced herself up, staggering to her feet.

"Good," Urak said, tossing the broken sword aside. "Don’t die yet. I want them all to see."

Grenka coughed, spitting blood.

She knew she couldn’t win — not now. But she had to try. For Ka’ra. For the tribe. For the pride of their bloodline.

With a battle cry that tore from the depths of her soul, Grenka charged one last time.

Urak laughed — a brutal, victorious sound — and sidestepped her at the last second.

He grabbed her by the ankle mid-leap.

The tribe gasped.

Grenka’s eyes widened in shock — then rage — then fear.

With a cruel roar, Urak spun once, twice, building momentum, and hurled her like a broken doll toward the flame wall.

"NO!" someone shouted from the crowd.

But it was too late.

Grenka’s body slammed into the searing flames with a sickening crack.

The fire devoured her instantly, swallowing her screams.

The stench of burning flesh filled the air, and many orcs turned away, some gagging, others covering their faces in horror.

Urak stood there, breathing heavily, watching the flames consume what little remained of her.

Then he turned back to the tribe.

Grinning.

Drunk on power.

"No one!" he bellowed, voice carrying over the crackle of fire, "NO ONE messes with me!"

The orcs cowered, many falling to their knees, not out of loyalty — but out of sheer terror.

The flame wall behind him roared higher, as if answering his call.

Urak raised his arms to the sky, basking in the fear, the power, the hopelessness he had created.

"This wall...!" he shouted, laughing. "Spirits have truly blessed me!"

He pointed to the crowd, his voice turning cold and hard.

"You are mine now. Your lives, your food, your future... all of it belongs to me!"

No one answered.

No one dared.

They only bowed their heads lower, afraid to meet his gaze knowing he purposefully led Ka’ra into the forest.

And Urak smiled wider, knowing the only obstacle he had would not return and he would truly be the king of forest with this impenetrable defense that they got.

***

Ka’ra tightened the strap of her armor across her shoulder and stepped carefully along the forest path. Despite the dense woods around her, she didn’t feel lost. Strange, undying torches, mounted on tree trunks, flickered with steady orange flames similar to the flames that engulfed their walls, lighting the way ahead.

She glanced at one of them, the flame so still it looked frozen.

"Who put these here?" she muttered under her breath, brushing her fingers lightly against the bark. "This doesn’t look like the work of a spirit...so it was a human after all, but it was no ordinary human. How come I didn’t feel human scent close to our tribe?"

The path beckoned her forward. So she walked. And walked. Time seemed to stretch and melt around her, the air growing cooler the deeper she went.

Eventually, Ka’ra came to a halt.

Before her loomed a massive rock formation, unlike anything she had ever seen. The entire structure glowed with a dark blue light, as if the stone itself was alive. A mouth-like opening, as tall as the walls of her village, yawned before her.

Ka’ra took a cautious step back.

"This looks... dangerous," she whispered, heart thudding.

She clutched —a simple stone given to her by her human mother—and exhaled slowly.

"But there’s no turning back now."

Gathering her courage, she approached the entrance.

Inside, she expected darkness. Maybe damp, cold air. Maybe the stench of some sleeping beast.

Instead, her breath caught in her throat.

It wasn’t a cave at all.

A forest stretched out before her, alive and unreal. Trees with luminous, dark blue leaves swayed gently even though there was no wind. Vines hung from high branches, twinkling with soft light like strings of tiny stars. The ground beneath her feet was covered in thick, velvety moss that pulsed faintly with color.

The walls of the cave still surrounded the forest, high and unreachable, but they shimmered like the inside of a gemstone, casting the entire place in a dreamy, otherworldly glow.

Ka’ra stood frozen at the threshold.

"This... this can’t be real," she breathed. "When did something like this appear in this forest?"

Her fingers brushed the closest tree, and the bark was warm to the touch. The leaves above rustled as if greeting her.

Her instincts screamed at her to be wary.

"This is no ordinary forest. The rich magic I feel here... this must be the living ground of a spirit... so it was a spirit after all, and that human might be its slave," she thought.

Ka’ra had several thoughts about the situation she was in, unaware of how her life was about to change — for better or worse.

"Even if it’s a spirit... the human doesn’t matter. I need to find out why it decided to mess with us," she muttered to herself, as she ventured deeper and deeper into the dark blue forest.

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