1 Cullen Azog (1)

Supreme King... Your child is born..." an orc in an article of clothing similar to a high priest said. There was a hint of wariness in his tone as he raised the shell used to carry the orc infant.

"What is the result from the hierarch assembly? Did he inherited my blood and might?" the supreme king asked. Removing the gauntlet that came in a set with his battle armor, he gently rubbed the infant's face using two of his fingers.

"They... They did. The hierarch assembly concluded that this child managed to inherit the Immortality from your supreme...But..." the priest hesitates from finishing the sentence.

Based on his understanding of serving this "supreme king" for so long, he knew that there will be no return for him if he mentioned the second part of his sentence.

"Supremacy... Please allow this slave of yours to live... Please!" kneeling before this individual that releases a mighty aura, he shivered.

"SPEAK!!!" the hall shook from a single word of this supreme king.

"The infant inherited supreme's Immortality, but he was evaluated as a craftsman!" the priest bump his head down on the floor as he finishes the entire sentence.

"Craftsman? The great supreme king's child as a mere craftsman? Trash! Trash!" fueled by his anger, the supreme king kicked the shell made from steel away. That kick throws the orc infant off from the cradle as it rolled above the ground for a few meters.

But the infant did not cry.

'Ouch! That's my father?" although he cannot speaks yet, the young infant already owned a much mature mind compare to the orc infants that are recently born. This was actually another inheritance he got from the supreme king.

As his body was too weak right now, the infant has no other method except shivering on the ground for attention.

"Toss this failure product alongside with the feces pen. Inform the entire armada that we're leaving this planet." angrily, the supreme king turned around and left the hall. Not even a single sight was given to this infant of his that was deemed as a failure.

"Huh... Huh..." the orc priest sat down on the floor after he managed to keep his life intact today. Using some magic force that formed into a chain of lightning, he remotely pulls the cradle over.

"Little prince... If you want to blame, blame your human mother. Who tells her to give birth to you as a mere builder peon?" the priest pulled the infant up from the floor and simply tossed him back into the shell-like cradle.

Sleepy and hungry, the orc infant slowly closed his eyes as he fell back to his sleep.

The next moment when he wakes up, he was already inside a place no different from a pen for pigs. There were feces all around him, along with twenty or so orcs of all sizes.

Like him, they're also the product of failure from the main army that belonged to the one called 'supreme king.' Following along these twenty or infant orcs were a group of old and retired tribesmen. Wound and deformation are noticeable on their physical body, which likely means they're the failure subject from the battle's aftermath.

"Wake up! Time to eat!" two orcs poured some hot food with meat inside into the pen. The moment the food was thrown inside, the infants started to crawl around, fighting for food.

'These two damn adults. I'll make sure I'll teach you both a lesson when I grow up!" the infant of supreme king vowed as he grabbed one of the piping hot meat on the ground and started to nibble on it.

Such kind of life continued until the dropship carrying them fell on the planet's surface. By the time four months have passed, the twenty or so infants are all considered grown enough to contribute to rebuilding the base with the orcs left behind.

This planet is known as Silicon.

It was considered as a lower-civilization planet with nothing but some raw, unimportant resources.

...

...

...

Two years have passed from the day the dropship landed in one of the continents within this planet named Silicon.

"Cullen Azog." the name of an orc was called.

"What's up?" turning his head around, the orc about one and a half meter responded. As an orc matured three times faster than a regular local human in Silicon, Cullen Azog is currently considered six years old in human age.

Although he matured faster than the humans, that means nothing. At the end of the day, Cullen Azog was born with the lowest possible orc in their social hierarchy. Craftsmen, or often known as builders or peons, were considered villagers in the eyes of the orc tribe.

Being born with this status made him grow slower than the other orcs. Standing only at 1.5meters height, he's about half a meter shorter than the shortest Orc Warrior amongst the same generation as him.

Currently, Cullen Azog was repairing one of the villager's roofs in exchange for some food. Amongst the fifty or so orcs that came two years ago in the dropship, he was the only one born with language efficiency that allowed him to communicate fluently with non-orcs.

"This is your pay. The village chief is asking you to create ten more swords for us." the human adult tossed a bag of coins at Cullen Azog after he finished what he had to say.

"Where's the iron ores?" Cullen Azog asked. Ordering him to craft some weapons for the human is fine, but what about the material he needed?

"The village chief said that you'll have to search for your own material. We'll be expecting the delivery in the next five days. If you complete them in five days, there will be additional rewards."

"I'm leaving. Make sure you get the weapons done in time!" the human adult left without wasting more time talking with Cullen Azog. From the way he talks and the tone behind his words, it is evident that he's looking down on Cullen Azog for his status as an orc.

'Trash being...' Cullen Azog said. Hammering the nails into the wooden beam he used to strengthen the roof foundation, the roof is quickly repaired. It looks like a new building immediately once he's done arranging the straw thatches that doubled as insulation and roof cover.

"Mister Derrick... The roof is repaired." Cullen Azog said.

"Thank you, Cullen. Take this basket of bread and fruit and get home quickly. I'm sure your mother is worried." the villager named Derrick gave a basket full of food to Cullen Azog and told him to get home before it was too late.

"I will." Cullen Azog nodded and left.

Not long after he left, a group of four human youngsters followed. Looking at how the four purposely followed the road Cullen Azog used to return to his Orc Village, Mister Derrick shook his head as he whispered...

'Bunch of retard b**tards...'

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