Starting from the Planetary Governor

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If it were usual times, Gorgon wouldn't mind these things, but not now.

He still needed the clan to continue existing.

He could only plead earnestly once more, "Why won't you listen to me? When have I ever deceived you?"

"Nothing will do!" Tearing Flesh was still so stubborn, "I must kill all those shrimp! I'll only leave after I've killed them all! All my boys are dead, the munitions factory is gone, the farm is gone, but I haven't personally killed a single shrimp! This is absolutely unacceptable!"

"But we'll all die here!" Gorgon growled, "Those shrimp have already killed Broil Axe, wiped out all the boys in front, and they are coming to kill us! We must leave now, this isn't the time to fight! Once we have more boys, more big guns, then we'll come back and kill these shrimp!"

Pausing for a moment, the Orc Elder Gorgon pointed to the barely visible tunnel entrance in the dark night, continuing, "Years ago, I was dug out from there, and after I personally killed the few shrimp who had dug me out, I carefully inspected the place. It's very sturdy, only accessible from the front entrance, but with those canned goods guarding it, even you couldn't break through..."

At this point, Gorgon suddenly fell silent.

He saw that Tearing Flesh's eyes filled with brutality were staring at him.

It was as if he had made a mistake, he had just told the strongest boss in the tribe, you can't do it.

And this was something most Orc bosses would never believe.

The enormous Tearing Flesh looked down at the decrepit Gorgon.

Tearing Flesh said, "I'm the boss, I don't have to listen to you. I'm the biggest in the tribe, the greenest, there's nothing I can't kill."

With that, his mechanized arm grasped Gorgon's throat, lifting his frail body up: "You're too old, too weak, I've had enough of your words. I'll keep your head and let you watch with your own eyes how I tear those shrimp to pieces."

Gorgon hissed as if he wanted to say something, but ultimately couldn't utter a word.

Tearing Flesh didn't want to listen to him anymore, his mechanized arm just tightened, twisting Gorgon's throat.

The light in Gorgon's eyes quickly faded.

In that moment, he remembered many things.

He was originally just an ordinary craftsman boy from the Iron-Tooth Clan. He was born on a warm planet where his clan had completely conquered the place, and the remaining shrimp were corralled as food, as slaves, as tools of amusement...

Then, the shrimp came.

The clan's battleship was destroyed, lots of canned goods fell from the sky, together with many shrimp, they raided and destroyed the planet's anti-orbit cannon. Then using incessant artillery fire, they purged the entire planet again and again.

All the Green Skin Orcs he knew died, and he was lucky to survive.

But afterwards, he was captured.

And after being transferred around, he ended up here, locked in that underground research facility nearby, for who knows how many years.

He was dissected, but the tenacious life force of the Green Skin Orcs allowed him to survive time and again after simple stitching; he was injected with all sorts of strange liquids, used as a guinea pig for various experiments...

But suddenly one day, everything stopped.

He was stuffed into a cold storage unit, it was very cold, and he soon lost consciousness.

When he regained consciousness, there were a few ragged shrimp standing in front of him. They had never seen a creature like himself, but once he had regained his strength, he broke out of the glass sarcophagus that held him and slaughtered all those shrimp.

But he had forgotten many things, how to make cannons, how to make killer cans... only recently had he started to remember these.

Then, he walked out and encountered many monsters. He fought those beasts, hunted them for food, and in the process, he bled.

Wherever his blood was shed, within a year, some green plants started to grow, Skugg beasts, farts, and other Green Skin Orcs gradually began to emerge.

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He was happy, he wasn't alone anymore. There were people to fight with, to accompany him in battle.

He still remembered, among the new lads that appeared, there was one he fancied most, called Ripper.

The lad didn't let him down and became the first leader.

Together they gathered all the lads, and Gorgon, following the memory of the clan from the past, established their own tribe and gave it the same name as before—Iron-Tooth Clan.

Over the years, the tribe's numbers kept growing; they began to expand outward until they encountered many tiny shrimps.

He was delighted, for fighting with shrimps was the most fun.

As they fought, the tribe would grow stronger.

The lads went to battle, to die, and then those who survived grew bigger, greener; even the dead would sprout more Green Skin Orcs...until there were more and more of them, stronger and stronger, and then Ripper could bring about a great 'Waaagh,' and the Iron-Tooth Clan would sweep across the entire planet, turning it into a place just like the one he was born on.

A little over a month ago, tougher shrimps appeared.

Gorgon was not worried; on the contrary, he was even more excited. Amidst the intense battles, the 'Waaagh' force field grew denser, Ripper grew bigger, and as he reveled in it, he even recalled many technologies he had once forgotten, making killing cans, terror iron cans, and even crafting a set of warlord armor for Ripper.

Only...why did something like what destroyed the Iron-Tooth Clan before begin to fall from the sky again?

Gorgon couldn't fathom it.

If only we could make big ships that fly outside the planet too.

This was his last thought. Content from m-vl|em|p,yr

And the last sound he heard was Ripper's roar of fury.

Then, his consciousness faded into darkness.

...

Matins and Schneider wore solemn expressions when they saw Ripper.

At such close range, they could finally confirm that this was an Orc Warlord.

From their past combat experience, they clearly understood the level of strength this creature could possess:

Average interstellar warriors couldn't last three blows in front of an Orc Warlord; to defeat one in a duel, at least a squad champion was needed.

And at this moment, with the arrival of this Orc Warlord, countless Green Skin Orcs began to swarm in, too numerous to count in the moment, restricted only by the narrow entrance that prevented them all from squeezing through at once.

Matins and Schneider exchanged a glance, and what they saw in each other's eyes was not panic, but excitement.

Opportunity had come!

They weren't afraid of the Orc Warlord's appearance, because its appearance meant a great opportunity!

To kill an Orc Warlord required the intervention of a squad champion.

Isn't that a coincidence?

Squad champions, there are two right here.

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This chapter is 7000!

More 6000 words tomorrow! This month's challenge plan will then be completed!

This chapter upload first at NovelBin.Com