Chapter 9: Transactional wife
Volk watched Solluha'r closely as the noise of the cheering crowd slowly faded into the background.
The young Elven woman, her silver like green hair gleaming in the dimming light, had just witnessed the brutal defeat of her lover, Luk'Tar.
Her face, which had been pale and filled with sorrow, now showed the first flicker of something else—an acknowledgment of Volk's power and the harsh reality of her situation.
Volk's voice broke the tense silence between them. "I wouldn't have done this if he didn't do that to me first."
Solluha'r's eyes flicked upward, meeting his eyes for just a brief moment before she dropped her gaze to the ground. She nodded slowly, "Yes, I believe you."
Volk was taken aback by her response.
In her words and in the way she carried herself, he saw a strength that he hadn't expected.
Despite the turmoil in her heart, she was willing to accept the outcome of the duel for the sake of the tribe.
Instead of getting angry at him, she was willing to let go of her lover, Luk'Tar, because she knew what was expected of her. Her loyalty to the tribe, her sense of duty—it all resonated with Volk.
This girl is strong, Volk thought to himself. Stronger than most.
Back in his world, women often chose their providers over their true lovers, sacrificing love for security and survival.
He had seen it time and again—girls marrying someone else while still holding onto thoughts of their true love.
It was a harsh reality, but one that made sense in the brutal world they lived in.
Survival often demanded such sacrifices.
In this, Solluha'r's decision to accept her fate didn't surprise him, but it did make him respect her. She was doing what she had to for the tribe, and he understood that.
Suddenly, an idea formed in Volk's mind, one that was as practical as it was unexpected. He looked at Solluha'r, who was still lost in her own thoughts, and asked, "How about you become my wife?"
The words were like a sudden change of weather.
Solluha'r's eyes widened slightly, but there was no shock in her expression.
It was as if she had expected this, she had already resigned herself to such a fate even if Luk'Tar failed and she would get together with somebody among the Dreadmaw Clan.
Her lips trembled slightly before she nodded.
Volk could see the heartbreak in her eyes, even though she tried to hide it.
He knew that her heart still belonged to Luk'Tar, but that didn't matter to him.
His reasons for wanting her as his wife were clear in his mind.
He knew what kind of woman she was—strong, dutiful, and talented.
She wouldn't be a burden, and he wouldn't have to worry about her feelings getting in the way of what needed to be done.
All he needed was someone who would follow his command, someone who would help him grow stronger.
Once an Elven Witch like Solluha'r paired with an Orc like him, he knew his power would increase because he would now be sensitive to mana.
Plus, her talents were unmatched among the younger generation, and with her by his side, he would become an even more formidable warrior. And if, in the future, she is still pinned for Luk'Tar, Volk would have no qualms about letting her go.
After all, his mission didn't require emotions—it only required results.
She was chosen as the grand prize of the event for a reason, and that reason was her potential to elevate the strength of any warrior she was paired with.
Volk would use that to his advantage.
Solluha'r remained silent, her acceptance without surprise or argument. She had already accepted her fate long ago, ever since she was chosen as the grand prize. But the turn of events had reignited a small hope within her—a hope that Luk'Tar might be the one to hold her.
That hope was now extinguished, leaving her with nothing but the cold reality that it would be Volk, not Luk'Tar, who would claim her.
Volk saw the sadness in her eyes and suddenly reached out, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look up at him.
His grip was firm but not cruel, and his voice was low and steady as he spoke. "Look," he said, "I'm not forcing you. If in the future I find someone else, I'll let you go. Then, you can go back to your lover, Luk'Tar."
Solluha'r's eyes filled with tears as she listened to Volk's words.
She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, and she knew that he was speaking the truth.
He didn't care about her feelings, didn't care about the love she had lost.
To him, she was a means to an end, a tool to help him achieve his goals. And yet, there was something in his words that made her feel a tiny flicker of relief.
He was giving her an out, a chance to return to Luk'Tar if things changed.
"You and Luk'Tar are meant to be," Volk continued, his voice unwavering. "Whatever I do, I know that you will never truly belong to me. I just need you for your talent for now, nothing less, nothing more."
Tears spilled over Solluha'r's cheeks, and she nodded her head, accepting the cold reality of her situation.
Volk smiled, a thin, satisfied smile, and released her chin.
"Good, good," he said, his voice carrying a note of approval. "Then there's no need to punish Luk'Tar. I'll let him live because of your decision."
Solluha'r's eyes widened in surprise as she looked at Volk, her tears momentarily forgotten.
The insight of what he had just said struck her in the head like a blow—he would have punished Luk'Tar if she had refused.
The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she realized how close she had come to sealing her lover's fate with her own words.
Volk's smile widened as he saw the surprise in her eyes. "Yes, I would have," he said, answering the question that she hadn't asked. "But you made the right choice. Now, we can both get what we want."
Solluha'r could only nod again, her heart heavy with the knowledge that she had been forced to choose between her own happiness and Luk'Tar's life.
She had chosen the latter, sacrificing her own desires for the sake of the man she loved. But in doing so, she had also bound herself to Volk, a warrior she barely knew, a man who saw her only as a tool to be used.
Everything else—the crowd's noise, Volk's voice, her own thoughts—faded into nothingness.
The world around her seemed to dissolve, leaving only the weight of her decision pressing down on her, crushing her spirit.
All that remained was a deep, unknown and an overwhelming sense of emptiness.
Meanwhile, Volk noticed the sadness in Solluha'r's eyes deepening. A flicker of an idea crossed his mind.
Without warning, he wrapped his large hand around her waist, lifting her effortlessly into the air.
He secured her against him, his right hand firmly grasping her backside while his left hand remained on her chin.
He brought her face close to his, their noses almost touching. His voice was low, resonating with a surprising gentleness as he spoke.
"I know this is hard," Volk began, his words uncharacteristically soft. "I can see it in your eyes. You feel like a tool, something to be used. But believe me, I don't want this any more than you do. I'm in the same situation as you, forced into something neither of us asked for."
His words were like a truthful whisper of the warm wind, laden with a truth that was hard for Solluha'r to ignore.
Volk's tone shifted as he continued, his voice growing firmer, more resolute.
"Our tribe is in danger, Solluha'r. We're living on the edge, surrounded by enemies in this godforsaken forest. We've escaped the Dark Elven Witches and the Red Elven Warlocks, but how long can we survive like this?
"We need strength, and that's why I chose you. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to—for the horde, for the tribe, and for the elves. Can you understand that?"
Solluha'r's voice was barely above a whisper, but she nodded and replied, "Yes, I understand."
"See," Volk said, his tone softening again, "we're in the same boat. If I had a choice, I might have chosen someone else, someone who felt the same way about me. But just like you, I don't have a choice. We're both forced into this for the greater good."
Volk's eyes searched hers, his expression serious. "So, I'm going to ask you again, Solluha'r. Do you want to be my wife? If you feel like a tool, if you truly don't want this, just say no. I'll understand. I'll choose the second most talented girl in the tribe, and we can both go our separate ways."
Solluha'r hesitated, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and doubt. She could see the sincerity in Volk's eyes, the heavy burden of responsibility they both carried.
In that moment, she realized that this man, despite his rough exterior and brutal strength, was just as trapped by fate as she was.
He didn't want this any more than she did, but he was willing to do whatever it took to protect the tribe, the horde, and the elves.
Her resolve hardened.
This was her fate, and it was Volk's as well.
With a slow, deliberate nod, Solluha'r accepted her destiny.
Seeing the determination in her eyes, Volk's expression changed.
A confident smile spread across his face, and without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed her.
The kiss was deep, intense, and it took Solluha'r by surprise. Her eyes widened, her body stiffened at first, but soon she felt herself melting into his embrace.
The kiss seemed to last an eternity, a moment in which all of her fears and doubts were washed away by the overwhelming force of his will.
When Volk finally pulled away, he looked at her with a satisfied grin. "Tasty," he murmured, the word filled with a possessive pride.
Solluha'r blinked, bewildered by the sudden intimacy. Her mind was a jumble of emotions, and she found herself asking, "Why did you kiss me?"
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Chapter 10: Symbiotic relationship
Volk's confident smile widened, a glint of determination in his eyes.
He leaned in closer to Solluha'r, with a deep and unwavering voice.
"I kissed you because I wanted to," he said, his tone firm. "And I'm grateful that you accepted. I have one life to live, Solluha'r, and I could die at any moment.
"Since you're now mine, I won't waste a single moment. I'll enjoy every second with you.
"No!
"I'll make sure every second, I will enjoy you!
"When the day comes that you want to leave or when I have to let you go, I'll know that I didn't waste a damn second and I won't regret every single thing that will happen between us!"
As his words sank in, Solluha'r's face turned a deep shade of red. Her body trembled slightly, and a strange warmth spread through her, emanating from deep within.
She couldn't explain it, but something inside her was awakening—a heat, a strange warm wetness down below, and an unknown yearning she kept denying that she had never felt before.
Without warning, Volk tightened his grip around her waist, lifting her even higher, and then swung her around with surprising grace.
Her world spun for a moment before he began to walk toward the center of the horde, carrying her like a prized possession.
The sudden movement made her gasp, but before she could protest, Volk's booming voice echoed across the gathering.
"She will be my wife!" he declared, with a voice filled with pride.
The entire tribe—Orcs and Elves alike—fell silent.
The air seemed to thicken with the weight of his words.
Faces turned toward them, eyes wide with shock and curiosity.
Murmurs started to spread through the crowd, questions and speculations whispered among them. Many knew Solluha'r was Lu'Tark's intended partner, and confusion rippled through the horde.
Solluha'r's blush deepened, her embarrassment almost overwhelming.
She felt every eye on her, judging, questioning, and she desperately tried to avoid meeting any of them. But then, from the corner of her eye, she saw him—Lu'Tark.
He was conscious now, standing with the support of several Orcs.
Their eyes met for the briefest moment, and guilt surged through her like a tidal wave. She forced herself to look away, to focus on Volk, to focus on the tribe.
This was for the tribe, she told herself, and she had to do this. Yes, this was for the tribe, and she had to do this, repeating it like a mantra.
Lu'Tark, meanwhile, felt his heart shatter as he watched the scene unfold.
The sight of Solluha'r, blushing and being carried like a princess by the one who defeated him, enjoying the moment despite her earlier reluctance, was more than he could bear.
The Orcs supporting him began to pull him away, with a harsh and mocking tone on their voices.
"Let's go," one of them said, his tone sharp. "There's no point in watching this ceremony."
Another snorted, adding with disdain, "You've lost. It's over."
Lu'Tark nodded weakly, feeling his spirit completely crushed. His once vibrant eyes now looked hollow and lifeless as he accepted his fate.
There was nothing left for him here, nothing but the bitter taste of defeat and loss of his one and only love.
Back at the center of the horde, Volk was watching Lu'Tark in the corner of his eyes, and his eyes would beam with a malevolent glint, but he quickly hid it.
Soon, he brought Solluha'r to stand before a massive bonfire that roared with magical energy.
The flames crackled and danced, their glow casting long shadows over the gathering.
The air around them was charged with power, a palpable force that made the hair on Solluha'r's arms stand on end.
The tribe began to chant, their voices rising in a rhythmic, ancient song that resonated deep within the earth.
The words were old, older than any of them, passed down through generations.
The chant echoed through the clearing, each note a piece of their history, their struggles, and their unity.
As the chant grew louder, the fire before them blazed higher, its flames tinged with colors beyond the natural spectrum—vivid purples, deep blues, and fiery reds.
Solluha'r felt the warmth of the fire envelop her, but it wasn't just heat—it was something more, something alive.
The magic of the bonfire seeped into her skin, filling her with an energy she had never experienced before.
It was as if the very essence of the tribe was flowing through her veins, binding her to this moment, to Volk, and to their shared destiny.
Volk, too, felt the magic wrapping around him, invigorating him, heightening his senses.
He could see the uncertainty flickering in Solluha'r's eyes, the lingering doubt.
He knew what this meant to her, how close she had been to becoming Lu'Tark's partner, and now here she was, standing on the brink of a new life with him instead.
He leaned in, his voice low but intense. "Are you sure about this, Solluha'r? If you're not ready, you can say no. I won't hold it against you."
Solluha'r's heart pounded in her chest, the weight of the decision pressing down on her.
She remembered Lu'Tark, the promises they had made to each other, the future they had imagined together. But she also knew the reality of their situation.
This was for the tribe, for their survival, for the greater good.
With a deep breath, she shook her head, pushing away the guilt, the doubt, and any lingering attachment she believed she still had.
"I want to do this," she said, her voice firm despite the turmoil inside her. "For the tribe."
Volk nodded. "Good," he said, his voice resonating with approval. He looked into her eyes, seeing the resolve there, the acceptance.
Meanwhile, the chant reached its climax, the voices of the tribe swelling in unison as the flames of the bonfire surged even higher.
Suddenly, a phenomenon began to unfold—a swirling mist rose from the ground, mingling with the fire, enveloping Volk and Solluha'r in a cocoon of light and magic.
The air shimmered with energy, the very fabric of reality bending around them as the ritual reached its peak.
Solluha'r could feel the magic pulsing through her, binding her to Volk in a way that went beyond mere words or vows.
It was a connection forged in the very essence of their beings, a bond that would shape their future, whatever that future might be.
Despite the lingering sadness in her heart, she felt a strange sense of peace, as if she had finally found her place, her purpose.
As the mist and flames enveloped them, their silhouettes began to blur, fading into the swirling vortex of magic.
The last thing Solluha'r saw before everything disappeared was Volk's face, his eyes filled with determination and a strange, unexpected warmth.
Then, everything was consumed by the light, and the two of them were gone, their fates sealed by the ancient ritual.
After a few minutes, as the mystical flames began to recede, the scorching heat that had enveloped Volk's chest started to diminish, leaving behind fiery, glowing markings etched into his skin.
The sensation was more than just skin deep; it was as if the very essence of the fire had embedded itself into his soul, burning with a persistent intensity.
He exhaled, the breath escaping his lips like a hiss—hssss—as the realization of what had just happened settled over him.
Suddenly, he noticed Solluha'r swaying, her legs buckling beneath her as the effects of the transformation took their toll.
Her small, delicate frame had begun to expand, growing heavier, her limbs longer and more muscular.
The air around her seemed to hum—bzzzz—with energy, as if the very atmosphere recognized the change.
Before she could collapse, Volk sprang towards her. His powerful arms shot out—whish—and he caught her with ease.
Holding her, he could feel her body heat, almost feverish, against his skin. He could feel the little strange fiery aura radiating off her, like aa pulsing warmth that seemed to resonate with the marks on his chest.
The silence of the moment was punctuated only by the crackling of the dying flames—crackle, crackle—as Volk cradled her in his arms.
Solluha'r's breathing was ragged—huff, huff—and her eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze, filled with a mixture of confusion, fear, and something else—something deeper, perhaps a dawning understanding of their newfound connection.
"Easy now," Volk murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the air—rumble. "I've got you."
Solluha'r's lips quivered—quiver—as she tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she simply nodded, and a small, almost imperceptible movement that Volk felt more than saw.
Suddenly, Volk felt that her body, once petite and fragile, had transformed into something more heavy.
Taking a clear view of her whole body in his arms, he now felt that she had once stood at a modest height, but now reached nearly seven feet, with her frame broader and more imposing.
He could confirm it with the murmurs from the gathered tribe members—murmur, murmur—as they too noticed the dramatic change in Solluha'r.
Whispers of astonishment rippled through the crowd like a wave—whoosh—as Orcs and Elves alike exchanged stunned glances.
"Did you see that?" one voice whispered, barely audible.
"She's grown so much," another added, disbelief tinged with awe.
"Is it normal? I think she's too big," an older Orc commented, his voice grave. "I have never seen an elven race become as big as her size now, is that normal?"
Volk's sharp ears caught every word—shing, shing—but his focus remained on the woman in his arms.
He could feel the tremors in her body—tremble, tremble—as she adjusted to her new form, the weight of what had happened pressed down on her just as heavily as her new physical mass.
Volk decided just to stare at her.
Solluha'r's eyes widened slightly—blink, blink—as she absorbed his words.
There was a flicker of something in her gaze—perhaps a hint of resolve, or maybe just the first glimmer of acceptance.
Volk could see that she was struggling to process everything, so he slowly lowered her to the ground, but his hands remained steady—thump—against her shoulders, supporting her until she was sure of her footing.
The transformation had clearly taken a toll, and Volk could feel the strain in her muscles—strain, strain—as she adjusted to her new body.
The murmurs around them continued—murmur, murmur—but Volk ignored them.
His attention was entirely on Solluha'r, on the woman who had just become his partner in a way that went beyond any normal bond.
He could feel the connection between them, a pulsing energy that thrummed—thrum, thrum—beneath the surface, tying them together in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying.
Before Volk could say anything more, a soft chime echoed in his mind—ding—the familiar sound of the system notification snapping him back to reality.
| Ding!
| Mission: Get yourself a Nuclear Reactor Vessel!
| Status: Completed! |
CREATORS' THOUGHTS
Espiritu_Santu
Espiritu_Santu
Powerstones for Motivation.
Note: I edited the mission at chapter six.
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Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
200+ Power
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