Proud Warriors

“We are all warriors. Only our ways of fighting differ. Ultimately, we are all warriors who survive through struggle.”

Before the Great Devourer suddenly occupied the undeveloped northeastern forest, the grassland beastkin who lived on the plains had been a bellicose race since ancient times, worshipping combat and physical might, and following only the strong.

Not only did their tribes wage war against one another, but they had also engaged in centuries of endless conflict with neighboring powers, including the Lucadia Empire and the old Holy Kingdom.

Their bellicose nature and formidable combat prowess struck terror into the hearts of all who faced them.

To them, defeat was a humiliation, but what was far more shameful than defeat was fleeing without a fight.

This was the state of affairs before they set out on the campaign to reclaim their homeland, the great plains occupied by the Great Devourer.

“But I had no choice. First and foremost, I am a chief, and I must be responsible for those who follow me. I cannot send them to their deaths in vain.”

Gorzan, the king of the Beastkin Kingdom and the messenger of the main god Uria, spoke with a grim expression in his private chambers.

“I understand. No one will blame you.”

Grimgor, who had come to visit Gorzan alone, shook his head regretfully.

Grimgor had been Gorzan's mentor since childhood.

Though he had retired, he was chosen by Uria to become a vassal, returning to duty as the Great Warrior Captain.

Armed with strength that surpassed even his prime, Grimgor helped Gorzan unify the beastkin tribes and establish a new power, serving as Gorzan's most reliable right-hand man.

“Gorzan, we just need to wait for the right opportunity to take our revenge.”

“Mentor, do you truly believe now is that opportunity?”

“...I do not know either.”

The humiliating memory of fleeing without a fight was a sore spot in the hearts of all the beastkin who had been driven from the plains by the Great Devourer.

Although they had conquered other regions, enslaved the local populations, and restored their strength,

neither Gorzan nor Grimgor had any confidence in a battle against the Great Devourer.

Before and during their retreat, they had fought the Great Devourer countless times.

The Great Devourer was the incarnation of the apocalypse. It was impossible to fully exterminate, and it constantly mutated and evolved.

It was to the point where the beastkin found the forces of the regions they currently conquered to be far too weak and fragile.

Tempered by their battles with the Great Devourer, the grassland beastkin displayed astonishing combat prowess in siege warfare and various other conflicts.

If the local forces had been even slightly more resilient, perhaps the beastkin would have shown some restraint. However, those so-called kingdoms and duchies were entirely fragile, which completely unleashed the beastkin's inner savagery.

Furthermore, the beastkin possessed another weapon: despair.

This was a weapon possessed only by those who had personally experienced the terror of the Great Devourer.

'Those Great Devourers are the unbridled servants of destruction and doom summoned by the Outer Gods. In the end, death comes sooner or later; there is no difference. We beastkin can only ever fight for survival.'

After leaving Gorzan's room, which was heavy with worry, Grimgor looked up at the night sky, lost in thought.

The sky seen from the plains was no different from the sky seen from this place, which had once been the royal palace of a human kingdom.

Although his body had returned to its muscular prime under the special divine protection bestowed by Uria, his long white beard still bore witness to the passage of time.

“What happened?”

Just then, he stopped a messenger who was rushing past.

“Several humans in the north have launched a rebellion. I am rushing to report this to the King.”

Hearing the messenger's report, Grimgor's white eyebrows twitched slightly. “...A rebellion?”

In truth, the interior of the Beastkin Kingdom was currently like a powder keg that could explode at any moment.

The brutal rule of the grassland beastkin, who treated the defeated as slaves, was inherently unacceptable to other races.

However, the beastkin had not originally been this cruel.

Their actions of forcibly abducting women and wantonly plundering wealth, in Grimgor's eyes, all stemmed from a deep-seated fear that had penetrated their very bones.

If they did not do this, they would sooner or later be defeated and consumed by the Great Devourer once again.

This primal fear had completely consumed the minds of the beastkin.

“I will handle this personally.”

Grimgor pondered for a moment and decided to set out himself.

The messenger's eyes widened in surprise, but Grimgor had already turned and departed.

Amidst the ruined city and fallen beastkin soldiers, people were hurriedly packing their belongings, preparing to flee.

“We can no longer endure these cruel beastkin! We must evacuate as many people as possible, and quickly!”

A young man looked around anxiously. He was the leader of this rebellion—Begrun.

He was once the prince of a small kingdom that ruled this region, and was an excellent knight in his own right.

After the kingdom was destroyed by the beastkin, he had narrowly escaped death in battle, hiding in the shadows with a few companions.

Watching the populace being devastated and abused by the beastkin, his heart was filled with rage.

“Your Highness, please remain calm. We have made all the necessary preparations to stall the enemy's main forces.”

His companion, a mage, tried his best to soothe him.

Their plan to gather their strength and launch an internal surprise attack had been highly successful; the beastkin garrison guarding the city had been completely wiped out.

Furthermore, they had blocked the roads and set up obstacles to prevent the surrounding main forces from coming to reinforce them. Everything had been prepared meticulously and executed flawlessly.

At the very least, everyone in this city would be able to evacuate smoothly according to plan.

A little further ahead lay the territory of the Dwarven Alliance, who would take in the refugees fleeing the Beastkin Kingdom.

Begrun had originally intended to send the people there first before making his next move.

“P-Prince! The enemy is heading this way!”

“Impossible! I clearly blocked all the roads!”

“It is not a large force! There is only one enemy...”

However, just as the sun rose from the east in the early morning, the unexpected occurred.

An urgent report echoed from the communication device.

'Only one person?'

Begrun's eyes widened.

Almost simultaneously, everyone who had reached a certain level of strength sensed a powerful presence, and their faces paled in shock.

“What audacious fools, humans.”

Accompanied by a massive boom, a figure leaped from afar, shattering the earth as he landed heavily on the ground.

Staggering from the shockwave, Begrun peered through the swirling dust and saw a pair of glowing beastkin eyes.

Wrapped in blue magic power, Grimgor held a greatsword larger than a man, letting out a low growl.

Begrun resolutely drew his sword. “Silence, beastkin. I am going to save my people.”

“I do not deny that.” Grimgor retracted some of his aura, a faint smile appearing on his face. “To struggle for survival is only natural. Those who do not know how to struggle have no right to enjoy any privileges. So fight, and seize it, human warrior!”

“Save your breath! I am not here to duel you!”

Begrun shouted passionately.

Grimgor spoke from the heart, but the two of them, in the end, stood on completely opposing sides.

And what he said was also the truth. Once they confirmed that Grimgor had indeed come alone, Begrun's men immediately launched an attack.

There were dozens of them, with Begrun at the core.

'Splendid spirit.'

Watching the enemies rushing at him from all directions, Grimgor actually smiled even wider.

Struggle was noble, but it was also joyous.

An opponent who dared to challenge for what they desired was exactly what the beastkin loved most.

“This is!”

Grimgor raised his greatsword, unleashing his full power.

A force far more violent and explosive than magic power swept through, instantly enveloping the entire area.

To his horror, Begrun discovered that his magic-infused sword was easily snapped like a dry twig.

This was the realm achieved by Grimgor, a hero blessed by the main god Uria and a legendary Great Warrior before his retirement. By combining the teachings of the god with his own insights, he had reached this state—the Realm of Martial Zenith.

“How can such a realm exist...”

Begrun and the companions who had charged forward with him were all sent flying. Spitting blood, they trembled all over in sheer disbelief.

Hailed as a genius since childhood, Begrun could normally defeat most ordinary beastkin warriors with ease.

But Grimgor was on a completely different level.

It was a realm beyond imagination.

Grimgor sneered. “The gap between a warrior blessed by the great God of War and one who is not is just that vast.”

Begrun retorted, “That evil god of yours is the root of all this!”

“No, you do not understand. The one truly responsible for all this is someone else entirely.”

Looking at the rebel force he had effortlessly subdued single-handedly, Grimgor shook his head, responding to Begrun's rage.

Ordinarily, if anyone dared to insult Uria, he would never let them live.

But now, the look in Grimgor's eyes as he stared at Begrun was filled with regret.

Begrun had intended to deliberately provoke Grimgor, knowing that beastkin loyal to their god would fly into an extreme rage if their sore spot was touched. However, Grimgor's reaction left him temporarily speechless.

For he could sense that the regret in the old beastkin's eyes was genuine.

“The root of everything is the Great Devourer. It is the servant of the Outer Gods that drove us from our homeland and seeks to bring about the end of this world. I do not expect you to believe me, nor do I ask for your forgiveness. But what I say is the truth.”

Grimgor muttered to himself, gazing at the beastkin troops approaching in the distance.

“Everyone is struggling just to survive, yet our living space grows smaller by the day. Whether it be beastkin, humans, or dwarves. The Great Devourer seeks to shatter even this barely maintained balance. In their eyes, there are no slaves, no warriors, and no kings.”

“This is nothing but your despicable excuse...”

“It is an excuse, and an ugly one made by a loser. Therefore, I will soon set out to correct all of this.”

The hurriedly arriving beastkin troops looked at each other as they saw the completely subdued rebel force.

According to beastkin tradition, rebels—especially those who were human slaves—would be subjected to extremely cruel punishments.

Death by a thousand cuts was a common occurrence.

However, Grimgor used his authority to pardon everyone, including Begrun.

“Incorporate them into the slave units under my command. I hear they have barely faced those demons in actual combat. We are short on hands right now, and even if they are human, such warriors must not be wasted in vain.”

“But His Majesty the King decreed that rebels must be...”

“I will speak with the King. Even if we are different from how we were in the past, respecting true warriors will always be our core tradition.”

Not only that, but Grimgor also incorporated these people into his own army, which was about to set out on a campaign.

A few weeks into the campaign, Grimgor met for the first time with representatives of the Dwarven Alliance, who were fighting the Great Devourer in the north.

The dwarven representative spoke up. “Do you truly intend to take only a small band of men and infiltrate their nest?”

“As you must know, the Great Devourer has begun utilizing technologies we have never seen before.”

When Grimgor mentioned those unknown technologies, the dwarves' expressions darkened.

For their pride and joy, the steam-powered magitech chariot unit, had been completely wiped out by those heavy-armored ants clad in rock armor, who had transformed into living golems.

“The main forces will launch a coordinated offensive at the agreed time to draw their attention. Taking advantage of this opportunity, we will quietly infiltrate and destroy their nest. They have a queen. As long as we sever her head, we can throw them into chaos.”

Grimgor said, plunging a dagger into a portrait depicting Kerrigan.

They also had a general understanding of the Great Devourer's structure and hierarchy.

Although they did not know the secret of the hive mind, nor did they understand the difference between the main nest colony and the migratory colony, they at least knew that the Great Devourer was composed of a queen, various mutated combat units, and ordinary worker ants.

Although the migratory colony and the main nest colony belonged to the same whole, if Kerrigan died, the migratory colony under her command would inevitably suffer a devastating blow.

“Most importantly, this is for all of us who live on this land.”

Grimgor sincerely pleaded with the hesitant representatives of the Dwarven Alliance.

He hoped everyone could set aside the competition between their gods and the grievances between one another, and act together for a single, shared goal at this crucial moment.

These words were spoken not as the Great Warrior Captain of the beastkin army, but as a living being of this world—as a fellow warrior.

“...Very well. Let us try. In any case, this will not be the last time.”

Ultimately, the dwarven commander was moved by Grimgor's sincerity and nodded.

A miraculous alliance was forged.

'Rather than Grimgor's sincerity moving them, it was the notoriety of the Great Devourer that brought about this alliance...'

In the corner of the meeting room, Begrun, who had been silently watching everything, swallowed hard as he recalled the horrors of the Great Devourer he had witnessed with his own eyes over the past few weeks.

Not only were they powerful, but what was even more terrifying was their relentless, unyielding tenacity.

He finally understood that unless they were completely uprooted and burned down to the very last cell, they could never afford even a single moment of complacency.