Chapter 40: Jerka's Redemption

[Burn marks crawled like angry red spiders across Jerka's skin. A strangled cry tore from his throat, echoing in the cavern's oppressive darkness. The only light flickered from a few scattered glow stones, casting grotesque shadows that danced on the damp walls.

"Fire again?" he snarled, his voice laced with a fury barely contained by the pain. "Why the ever-loving blazes does he always use fire?!" He slammed his fist against the cold stone, a fresh hiss escaping his lips as the throbbing intensified. "A hundred ways to kill a puppet," he spat, each word punctuated by a ragged breath. "A hundred! Does he have some twisted obsession with flames?" Jerka's eyes burned with a mix of agony.

His screams echoed in the darkness, so raw with terror that they seemed to shake the very ground beneath him. But his fear was far from unfounded.

Unbeknownst to him, the Ogre King's necromantic puppets lurked within the creepy tendrils of his own shadow. Just as he readied himself for another bone-chilling shriek, the shadows writhed. Clawed hands, pale and skeletal with shadow, erupted from the darkness, silencing his scream before it could even form. Jerked back with inhuman force, the world dissolved into an inky void. He felt himself being swallowed by the shadows, a chilling sensation akin to being sucked into quicksand.

A flicker of light speared through his eyelids, forcing them open. A sight so colossal it nearly stopped his heart lay before him. Three monstrous figures loomed large: the Ogre King, the Ogre General, and the infamous Shadow Ogre Chilly. Their crimson eyes burned with murderous intent, a reflection of the fury that crackled through the surrounding air. The revelation of Jerka's crimes had ignited a fire within the entire Ogre army, who now stood in a menacing circle, mirroring the rage of their leaders.

'Ah, I'm doomed,' Jerka realized the gravity of his situation. With crimes proven, he faced a death sentence, yet the motives behind his actions remained unclear.

The Ogre King, capable of effortlessly executing him in the cave using his puppets, sought to understand Jerka's reasoning. Additionally, you had requested a favor – to be the one to end Jerka's life, a request to which the Ogre King had agreed upon.]

"Clarify one thing for me, despite being an elder, why did you betray the Ogre race? Why side with the goblins? Why let so many ogres die...?" The Ogre King, usually stoic, revealed a hint of wavering emotion in his voice, struggling to maintain composure for a brief moment.

Jerka, head lowered, heard the questions clearly. In a subdued tone, he responded, "It was for revenge."

At the mention of that word, your eyes widened. The reason he provided wasn't unfamiliar; in fact, your current simulation was driven by the same purpose. Your goal was to unleash havoc and decimate the humans!

The Ogre General slammed his fist on the ground, the cavern floor trembling with the impact. "Revenge? What in Grugnack's gullet are you babbling about? We ogres respect strength, and you showed plenty! We gave you a high position, treated you like one of our own! And how do you repay that trust? By spitting in our faces with this 'revenge' talk!" His voice boomed throughout the area, dripping with fury.

Jerka, though dwarfed by the General, held his ground, his chin jutting out defiantly. "Respect? You call letting the very creatures who scarred me, who took everything I held dear, walk free... respect? That's not respect, General, that's a cage! A gilded cage built on fear and apathy!"

You were unaware of Jerka's topic, but the Ogre King and the General appeared to have some understanding. Both averted their gazes upon hearing this.

The General, tongue suddenly thick, attempted a rebuttal, "We..." but the words died in his throat. A heavy silence descended, thick with unspoken guilt.

Perplexed, you sought answers. Was his revenge truly justified? What revenge was he referring to initially? Raising your gaze, you turned to the Ogre King, intending to inquire, yet Jerka pressed on, revealing the painful past.

Driven by raw emotion, Jerka surged forward, his voice cracking. "When the Rew Clan tore my world apart, where were you? Where was your fabled Ogre strength then? You turned tail and ran, leaving my family – my son, my pregnant wife, my unborn child – to their slaughter!" Tears welled in his eyes, his voice wavering between rage and despair.

Jerka's manic laughter echoed through the cavern. It matched the Ogre King's internal weeping. The King vividly recalled about his younger days, when there was a younger Jerka, the clan's celebrated hero. He was unmatched in strength, surpassing even Jir Aaya in his prime. Now, that once-proud figure was reduced to this broken husk, consumed by vengeance. Shame gnawed at the King, a bitter echo of their past inaction. One who was respected by all, had lost all of it. One who was destined to be a hero had now become a criminal.

"They helped me, those of another race, the goblins," Jerka rasped, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "They answered my call when you all turned a blind eye. Why should I stay loyal to a clan that abandoned me in my darkest hour?" His laughter escalated, bordering on hysteria. "They offered me a path, and I took it. I have done no wrong!"

"For abandoning me and my family, no matter how many times I'm given the option, I would do the same. I will side with those who helped me."

Jerka's words reached everyone's ears. It touched their hearts. They were saddened. While they put all the blame of countless deaths on Jerka, he too was a victim. You understood it better than anyone. His face, etched with tear tracks and fatigue, spoke volumes. Dark circles under his green skin revealed nights devoid of restful sleep.

You remained calm, anger replaced by a heavy understanding. You listened as his voice grew hoarse, yet the blame kept flowing until exhaustion silenced him. The King could only offer a choked apology before turning away. Other Elders, including Jir Aaya, who now knelt beside the King, the weight of his past cowardice crushing him, looked at Jerka with a mixture of shame and pity. Jir Aaya lived in fake glory. He was the one who had abandoned Jerka's family and had run away! It was because of him that they had died. All he could do right now is beg for forgiveness.

Sadly, nothing could be undone. Jerka's laughter, devoid of joy, spread through the vast space. "Save your apologies," he rasped. "Fifty years of torment... death won't erase that. But," his gaze met yours, sincere and raw, "you, lad, you've shown wisdom and cunning. I standby the words I spoke earlier. You have the judgment of good and bad, that we desperately need. You've won. Protect this clan."

You nodded solemnly. Jerka smiled, a flicker of something akin to peace crossing his features. "Aye, kill me now, will you? I wanted to die a villain, but look at what you've made me... sheesh, them might end up forgiving me for my sins. Tsk tsk, what a mess." He met your gaze one last time. "Don't make me repeat it."

You, prepared to confront Jerka for the sake of your missions, now felt your hands trembling. Despite this, you maintained control and advanced, crouching down. In a mere whisper, you uttered, "I'll make it quick... Master."

Jerka, who had given up, suddenly widened his eyes when he heard that. You referred to him as 'Master', something that a disciple does. A flicker of surprise danced in his eyes, quickly replaced by a surge of emotion that culminated in a fresh wave of tears. He squeezed his eyes shut, a single tear tracing a path down his weathered cheek.

With a deep breath, you channeled your power. Dark flames materialized at your fingertips, potent enough to grant him an instant, painless death.

The air crackled with raw energy, the heat scorching your skin as the flames intensified. A final, choked sob escaped Jerka's lips. Then, silence. The flames engulfed him, consuming him whole. They danced for a fleeting moment before vanishing, leaving only a faint wisp of smoke and a few glistening teardrops on the cavern floor. Tears that, in the flickering light, seemed to hold both a glimmer of happiness and a hint of lingering regret. Even the darkness, it seemed, couldn't fully extinguish the complexities of Jerka's emotions.

"Rest in peace, Master," you murmured a final farewell to an ogre consumed by vengeance, but ultimately redeemed by a single, unexpected word.

Jerka found himself enveloped in unending darkness. Whichever way he turned, an infinite void awaited him. 'Perhaps, this is the price I must pay for my crimes,' Jerka chuckled as he commenced a solitary journey down a desolate path. 'Nothing new. I was lonely before, and I am lonely now,' he mused with a small chuckle, once again embracing the sadness as he continued.

He treaded a simple, straight path, relentless for fifty long years. Finally fatigued, he paused to sit and rest—the first respite in half a century. Briefly looking back, he discovered something that shattered him again, but this time, in a positive way.

Behind him stood two beings he recognized all too well. Even if he tried to forget, he never could. It was his young son and his pregnant wife with the unborn child, following closely behind.

Tears streamed down his face as he ran toward them. "Misha? Jero?" he called out loudly, his voice wavering. "What are you doing here? You—"

"We've always been with you," said his wife Misha with a soft, gentle voice. Jerka, still his old self, collapsed to the abyssal ground upon hearing that, pouring out his confessions. Yet, his wife and child accepted him for who he was.

"It's over. Don't cry anymore; you've paid for your sins," she added, embracing him tightly, restoring warmth to his lonely life.

Overjoyed to reunite with them, Jerka held onto the love a little longer before standing up again and continuing the same path, but this time, not alone. His wife held his left hand, and his son held his right. Together, they walked, and strangely enough, the darkness around them transformed into a brightly sunlit garden.

Whether this path was a true reward or a form of self-acceptance, one thing was certain – Jerka was no longer walking alone.]

A/N: Just a simple comment like ‘TFTC’/‘Thank you for the chapter’/’Thanks’ will also help. It keeps me motivated! Do comment!