When Grakka was younger, she admired her father with all her being. The courage he conveyed to his companions when facing stronger opponents was too great to put into words; he was one of the greatest in the tribe of orcs.
"Father, one day I want to be like you."
"Hahaha, of course you will, after all, you're my daughter."
As her father patted her head, he told many stories of how he had faced several eighth-circle foes in his adventures, Nartheis of rank Ranvil level three, and high-ranking demons. Each story was better than the last for her, and the best part was that her father was still writing his story.
'I'll be able to see how far he'll go, and I'll follow in his footsteps.'
That's why everything she did was to follow the same steps of her father's story when she was a child, and she thought it would remain that way—at least until her father faced the ninth circle of Sanos, who controlled shadows and somehow destroyed all the magic in his body, leaving him powerless.
An orc's entire life is wrapped in battles: they grow up fighting, they live in war, and they die in combat, honoring the path they took up to that point. If an orc manages to survive into old age, it means he was a legend and would forever be respected as one of the strongest. She expected that of her father. So when she saw her father with lifeless eyes at their home, the only thing she could do was cry and run to embrace him, hoping that one day he might at least recover, even if he could never fight again.
"Resistance Magic: Hardened Body."
One day, when she was fourteen, she was training outside the house. Her father had retired from battles when she was ten, so it had been four years since that day. Every day, she told her father she would become the strongest of the Green Tribe, and every day, her father smiled at her with his thin body, unable to eat properly. She had to work by hunting to bring food home too, so sometimes she didn't have as much time to train as she wanted.
"Grakka, looks like you've awakened a magic."
"Yes! Today I managed to use my first magic. Of course, my father got his when he was younger, but this should make him proud, ma'am."
An older orc watched Grakka train with a certain nostalgia, telling her how her father had trained and dedicated himself every day, even cutting down an hour of sleep.
"Your father was very hardheaded. When he set something in his mind, he wouldn't let go until the end."
"Well, what can I do? That's the father I admire and the one my mother chose."
"Yes… your mother was also strong—stronger than your father at that time, in fact stronger than anyone in the tribe."
Her mother had once been considered the strongest in the tribe but ended up dying in battle, with honor to the end and, most of all, enjoying herself with a smile on her face.
'From what I've heard, my mother fell in love with my father because he never gave up on challenging her, being the only one who kept fighting her after years of her being the strongest in the tribe… I hope to find someone like that.'
"Well, I need to go make today's food for father, so goodbye."
"Of course, dear. See you later."
Running, she passed by a stall and bought meat. Her father couldn't walk, so in her mind, a good meal might help him push himself.
"I hope he likes today's food. I'll give it my best."
Returning home, she entered quickly with a smile on her face, calling for her father. Not hearing his voice from the usual place, she went in and found a letter and a piece of paper. The letter was her approval to Astrong Academy. She ran and grabbed the letter with an excited smile.
'I got accepted! But… it's a shame I'll have to refuse. I need to take care of father.'
She had taken the test because her father insisted, but she never thought she would actually get in. Her plan was to train in the tribe while caring for her father. Of course, she felt an emptiness in her chest for refusing this chance to face strong opponents, but accepting wasn't an option.
'If father saw this, he must have been happy… how do I tell him I'm not going?'
Placing the letter on the table, she picked up the paper and began looking for her father in the house. She still smiled as she read the beginning of the letter, but little by little, her smile faded. Soon she was running through the house, throwing the letter on the ground after finishing reading it, her speed increasing.
'Daughter, I can't explain the pride I feel in my chest seeing how strong you're becoming, and I'm sure your mother feels the same…'
Opening every door, she found nothing, so she rushed out of the house with tears in her eyes, asking every neighbor where he might be.
'But knowing you, it's very possible you'll refuse because of me… that's exactly why I've made a decision.'
"As far as I know, he walked out of the tribe carrying the sword from his fighting days."
Hearing that, she sprinted down the street as fast as she could, even tripping once along the way, until reaching the tribe's gate a bit farther away.
'For us orcs, if we can't fight, then we're no different from being dead. We only stop fighting when our bodies grow old and are satisfied with the path we've walked until then…'
Arriving at the gate, she saw several orcs gathered, and from the wooden gate, some guards were carrying a body wrapped in a shroud.
'My life ended the moment my abilities were taken away. Daughter, I don't want to be a burden on your path. I don't want to be useless, just a walking corpse hindering your life…'
Trembling, she approached, tears filling her eyes. Around her, all the orcs looked at her with pity—the same way they looked at her father every day. It was that gaze her father had endured daily.
'I promised your mother I'd never hinder your path. I promised I'd care for you until you were strong enough to start your own journey. That's why I endured until now, holding this feeling inside me, because I was certain…'
Kneeling on the ground, she clutched the hand of that body—the hand of the father she had admired and cared for so much—while all the orcs around looked upon the body with renewed respect.
'…that this feeling of wanting to keep fighting to the end would kill me on the very first day. So I apologize to you, my daughter, for not being able to endure longer, for not seeing you grow, for not seeing you get stronger, for not seeing you have children, for not seeing you love. I apologize for being like this and I ask you to walk whatever path you desire, for even in death I'm certain your mother and I will be watching you, no matter where we are… I love you and will love you forever. Farewell, my daughter.'
"Uwaaaaaaaaaah!!"
For an orc, battle is life, and for an orc to stop fighting before fulfilling their path is the same as being dead. Their entire life revolves around this path of struggle. To other races, this may seem foolish, but it is their belief and can never be stripped from their essence.
That day, an orc who had been respected but fallen into disgrace in the hearts of the tribe regained his honor—because even in that state, to the very end, he went out to continue his path.
"My condolences. He was a great orc."
"Your father is a great orcish companion."
"We will honor his grave alongside the other orcs fallen in battle."
Even with those praises from all the orcs, she heard nothing. She simply stared at her father's grave. Days passed when she wouldn't leave the house, not eating, not speaking to anyone, living just as her father had those past four years.
Opening her eyes, Grakka saw Enrico's hands as he prepared a fire to warm them both, perhaps already hours since they had faced that orc.
'Five hours… is he really human?'