Chapter 50 - The Gathering

Night blanketed the camp as the scouts returned, their reports whispered in anxious tones. Nolen stood at the edge of the gathering, his piercing crimson gaze fixed on the forest beyond. Romy’s voice, mechanical yet alive with a flicker of worry, broke the tense quiet.

“Nolen, I’ve processed the data.”

“What did you find?” he asked, his voice low and sharp.

“It’s not just a nest,” Romy replied. The campfire flickered in her glowing projection, casting ghostly light over the gathered chiefs. “It’s a super colony.”

The words hung in the air like the distant rumble of an approaching storm. Bone Crusher and K’hamer exchanged uneasy glances, their stoic faces betraying cracks of dread.

“What does that mean?” K’hamer finally asked, his voice rough like a grinding stone.

Romy hesitated, as though even she found it difficult to deliver the news. “The Oracnids are evolving. Super colonies form when multiple nests merge into a single massive hive. They act as one organism, their intelligence growing exponentially with size.”

“How intelligent are we talking?” Bone Crusher asked, his tone skeptical but laced with unease.

“Smarter than us,” Romy answered bluntly. “The colony stretches over several kilometers. It’s the largest Oracnid hive ever recorded in this region. My estimate? Half a million Oracnids, at least. And that’s not counting the Queen.”

Nolen’s jaw tightened, his mind racing. The numbers alone were staggering, but the idea of a hive capable of advanced strategy was far worse. Oracnids had always been dangerous, but they were primal—beasts that attacked on instinct. If this colony could think...

“We’ve never faced anything like this,” Nolen muttered.

“No one has,” Romy replied. “And the larger the colony, the more coordinated they become. If this Queen is leading them, she’ll be capable of strategy, ambushes... even traps.”

The chiefs fell silent, the crackling fire the only sound between them. K’hamer finally broke the stillness. “This isn’t just a threat to us. If this hive spreads, it’ll consume everything in its path. Orcs, goblins, trolls—every living thing.”

“Agreed,” Bone Crusher rumbled. “But what do we do? Even with all our warriors, we don’t have the numbers to face something like this.”

Nolen’s gaze remained fixed on the darkness beyond the camp, as if staring directly into the hive itself. “We don’t fight it alone,” he said finally. His voice carried the weight of a decision that had already been made.

Bone Crusher raised an eyebrow. “You’re talking about a war party, aren’t you?”

“No,” Nolen said, turning to face them. “I’m talking about the war party. The largest this land has ever seen. If the Oracnids are uniting, so must we. Every tribe, every clan—orc, goblin, troll, ogre, kobold, lesser giant—anyone willing to stand and fight.”

“And if they refuse?” K’hamer asked.

“They won’t,” Nolen replied, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the firelight. “Because if they do, they’ll die. The hive isn’t just our enemy; it’s everyone’s.”

The chiefs nodded slowly, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

By dawn, riders had been dispatched to every corner of the land, their mounts thundering across the plains and forests. The call to arms was clear: gather or perish.

In the meantime, Nolen turned his attention back to the Red Sun Tribe. While the other tribes answered the summons, he couldn’t afford to waste a single moment.

“Romy,” he said, his tone clipped and efficient. “Keep analyzing the hive. I need every weakness you can find.”

“I’m on it,” she replied. “But don’t expect miracles. A super colony this size won’t have many.”

“Then we’ll make our own,” Nolen said.

The training grounds buzzed with activity as orcs and goblins sparred, drilled, and prepared their weapons. The Red Sun Tribe wasn’t large, but they were disciplined—a rarity in these lands. Nolen’s leadership, coupled with the knowledge he carried from the Solarai and Earth, had transformed them into a fighting force unlike any other.

While his warriors trained, Nolen studied the map brought by K’hamer. The super colony lay to the west, its sprawl stretching across the dense forest like a malignant growth. The forest itself was treacherous—thick with underbrush and dotted with deep ravines. It was perfect terrain for an ambush, and Nolen had no doubt the Oracnids would use it to their advantage.

Bone Crusher approached, his heavy steps shaking the ground. “The first tribes are already arriving,” he said. “Not many yet, but it’s a start.”

“Good,” Nolen replied without looking up.

Bone Crusher peered over his shoulder at the map. “You’ve got a plan?”

“Not yet,” Nolen admitted. “But I will. This hive is smart, but it’s not invincible. Everything has a weakness.”

Bone Crusher grunted in approval. “You’ve got fire in your veins, Red Sun. I like that. Just don’t burn out before the fight.”

Nolen allowed himself a faint smile. “I’ll do my best.”

The camp swelled with every passing day as tribes answered the call. Trolls and ogres towered over the goblins and kobolds, their massive frames bristling with crude weapons. Lesser giants, rare and solitary by nature, stood like living mountains among the throng. Despite their differences, the warriors trained together, driven by the shared knowledge that this was a fight for survival.

Nolen moved among them, his presence a steadying force. He corrected stances, demonstrated techniques, and offered words of encouragement. Many warriors recognized the Non-Orc leader of the Red Sun Tribe and his tribe's reputation and were in awe of his strength and vision.

As the final rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, Nolen stood atop a makeshift platform, his voice cutting through the din of the camp.

“Tomorrow, we march,” he declared, his crimson gaze sweeping over the gathered horde. “The super colony threatens us all. It doesn’t care if you’re orc or goblin, troll or giant. It will consume everything.”

The crowd murmured, their unease palpable.

“But we are not prey,” Nolen continued, his voice rising. “We are warriors. And tomorrow, we take the fight to the hive. Not just for ourselves, but for every tribe, every village, every soul in this land. We fight for survival. We fight for victory. And we will win.”

The camp erupted into cheers, a cacophony of voices united in purpose. For the first time, the tide seemed to shift—not in favor of the hive, but against it.

Nolen turned away, his expression unreadable. The battle ahead would decide everything. And for the first time, he felt the weight of not just his tribe’s survival, but the survival of an entire land.