Tale of a Hedonistic wizard

As the fight continued, one of the prince's men ventured inside one of the huts and discovered several captive women. Disturbed by the sight, the wizard quickly reported his findings to Angus.

Angus's expression remained stoic as he tightened his grip around Grak'Gor, not in the mood for idle chatter. "Not in the mood for a talk?" Angus inquired with an air of nonchalance, though his eyes bore into Grak'Gor with a piercing intensity.

"You don't know what you're dealing with here," Grak'Gor retorted defiantly, not even fazed after being overpowered by Angus.

"Care to tell me, then?" Angus responded calmly before flicking his hand with precision. A crackling bolt of lightning surged from Angus's hand, wrapping itself around the orc's outstretched hand.

The lightning pierced and shredded the orc's skin, sending jolts of excruciating shock through its body. The orc roared in pain, but despite the agony, it maintained a fierce and unyielding glare.

Angus narrowed his eyes, increasing the intensity of the lightning, causing the orc to writhe and contort in unbearable torment. However, Angus's mastery over the arcane allowed him to inflict precise damage, targeting only the orc's right hand, which resulted in the creature's pain without incapacitating it completely.

"Now, do you feel like you can talk?" Angus inquired, his voice resonating with a hint of impatience.

"My-my... father will hear about this, and you... will suffer a lot," Grak'Gor managed to utter between gritted teeth, the pain in his hand intensifying with every word.

Angus's confusion flickered across his expression. "Father? Oh! You people have family too," he said in a mocking tone, infuriating the orc.

Grak'Gor clenched his teeth, his eyes narrowing with rage. "Don't underestimate us, humans. Our bonds are strong, and our vengeance is relentless," he growled, his voice filled with determination. The pain in his hand fueled his anger, making him more determined to seek revenge for the humiliation he had endured.

"If that is so, then watch how your men die in front of you as you sit there helpless." Angus retorted, his voice dripping with disdain. "Your so-called 'vengeance' won't save you from the fate that awaits you and your kin."

Grak'Gor's voice grew colder as he stared at the human. "But remember this, human, for every one of my kin that falls, ten of yours will meet their end. Our strength lies not only in our family bonds but in our unity as a tribe." With a fierce glint in his eyes, he added, "Prepare to witness the true power of the orcish wrath."

As Angus bound Grak'Gor to a rock, the orc chieftain could only watch helplessly as his men fell one by one to the devastating power of Angus's lightning.

The crackling energy danced on Angus's fingertips, and with precision and deadly accuracy, he unleashed the lightning upon the marauding orcs. Their cries of pain and fear echoed through the valley as they met their end, turning to dust before Angus's unstoppable force.

These orcs had caused immense suffering, killing thousands of humans and taking hundreds of women captive. Their vile activities had caught the attention of Angus, the Lightning Prince himself.

Now he stood before Grak'Gor, a symbol of might and wrath, with the power to end it all.

The lightning in Angus's hands rumbled with an almost otherworldly fury, each strike carrying the weight of their crimes.

Grak'Gor could feel the immense power coursing through Angus, a power that could lay waste to entire armies with a mere flick of his fingers.

As the last of the orcs turned to dust, Angus turned his attention back to Grak'Gor. The orc chieftain's defiant glare remained, though a flicker of fear danced in his eyes.

"I'm not going to kill you today," Angus declared, his voice resonating with authority. "Go back to your father and tell him that the Dark Prince will be waiting."

The name "Lightning Prince" was widely known and feared among all races.

Angus's reputation as a powerful and enigmatic figure had spread far and wide, and even the mention of his name struck terror into the hearts of many. Rumors of his immense strength and unmatched combat skills had reached the ears of warriors from distant lands, solidifying his status as a legendary Wizard.

Many believed that crossing paths with Angus meant certain doom, as his victories in battle were said to be accompanied by flashes of lightning and thunderous roars.

With that ominous message delivered, Angus turned away, leaving Grak'Gor bound and powerless.

The orc chieftain could do nothing but watch as Angus disappeared into the horizon, leaving behind a trail of destruction and the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

In that moment, Grak'Gor realized the true extent of his tribe's folly. They had provoked a force beyond their reckoning, and their actions had brought about their own downfall. As the reality of their defeat sank in, Grak'Gor understood that the Lightning Prince was a force to be reckoned with—a harbinger of doom and death. He hadn't left anyone alive, not even a single orc.

He was the sole survivor of this massacre.

Bound to the rock, Grak'Gor contemplated his next move. He knew he had to return to his father, but how would he face the shame of failure and the consequences of his actions? The Lightning Prince's words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of the power that awaited those who dared to challenge him.

Still, his eyes burned with rage as he didn't leave this matter here. He decided to visit his father. no matter what, and with his pride as an orc's tribe chieftain, he didn't want to let this matter slide. Even after experiencing the prince's actions, he dared to go against the Lightning Prince.