I Refused To Be Reincarnated-Chapter 911: The Gift of Legacy

Adam's eyelids fluttered as he felt repeated pressing on his trapezius and calves. His knotted muscles relaxed, while his splitting headache disappeared. How mysterious. Perhaps a healing technique of the orcs?

Refreshed by the nap, he opened his eyes.

"KYU!"

A furball lept on his chest the moment he did. Her cute growl and wet tongue on his cheek made him chuckle. "I'm glad to see you, too, Bao. Was it your paws I felt on my shoulders?" 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Bao lifted her arms confidently, growling that the female orc had taught her.

"She taught you well."

Bao pointed at her, and Adam followed her arm.

What he saw was a smirking orc. The elegant curve of her brow emphasised her almond-shaped eyes. Pupils, green like deep lagoon water, returned his gaze with fervor. He didn't decipher the shadow of a wrinkle on her glossy cheeks, which made him frown when he gazed down. Not at her generous chest barely contained within her leather top, or her sharp curves blending warrior brutality with delicate femininity, but at her unbuttoned dark robes. Robes someone he couldn't imagine being over eighteen could wear. The robes of a shaman.

Yet, he dismissed even this contraction to focus on the most glaring one: her skin was a light shade of copper. How?

Before he could ask, she released his calves, her long dark braid coiling on the bedsheet as she tilted her head. She leaned close enough for her chest to fill his vision and pressed a slender finger against his lips.

"My, oh my. Complimenting my technique the moment you wake up. I would have blushed if I were any younger."

Her voice was like crystal water but carried the confidence of someone experienced, and her manner was too teasingly familiar.

His eyes widened. "You're—"

"Beautiful? Hahaha. Jokes aside, I'm Gora, as I was five hundred years ago." She cut him off with a tight hug. "I feel so... so... I can't even put it into words. I'm young again! And that old rooster, too! Thank you. Thank you for the potion, Adam!"

The weight of her delight settled against his warming chest. "You deserved it." Ignoring the mellow sensation of her breasts, he patted her robust back. Then, he pulled away by sitting up, and Bao rolled her eyes after almost being crushed between them. "We're friend Zul'Gora—"

"Gora." She interrupted him. "Just Gora, if we're really friends."

Adam nodded. "Gora. By the way, your skin..." He shook his head. "Forget about it. I remember Grum'Thal said something about every orc being bound to his cursed blood. When I purified him, you all were, right?"

Gora pulled him up from the bed, nodding. "That's what I overheard while you slept—that and how we'll tackle our new life and its challenges. The great shaman is next door with the others. He asked me to find him when you woke up. Should we go together?"

Adam interlocked his fingers overhead, then flexed his shoulders backwards fluidly. "Can't leave without saying goodbye." Walking to the door, he winked at Gora. "I just hope Teacher Diane won't roast me up when I return."

Gora guided him next door. A flicker of sadness settled in her eyes since the moment he spoke about goodbyes. Adam knew she'd love to see him remain in Thaur'Gorath. Grum'Thal would likely love it, too. But as sad as they all felt, the legacies of the seven great houses beckoned from the shadows of their sanctums. Besides, he still had promises to keep and a usable path home to discover.

Goodbyes were inevitable.

With a soft sigh, Gora entered the room, and he followed.

Shamans sat on chairs, beds, or the ground. The mysterious red glow that tore through the darkness of their hoods was gone with their demonic blood. The warriors leaned against the walls, proud muscles protruding even though they lost in bulk and height.

Everyone parted to let him through, and Grum'Thal rose from his seat instantly.

He met Adam mid-way, his broad grin made broader by his ivory tusks. Or was it just an impression? Adam didn't know. But he grinned back. Nothing remained of the horns and scars on Grum'Thal's bald head. Instead, the light wrinkles of a middle-aged orc waved through his forehead and cheeks.

"Adam, my friend! You recover almost as fast as an orc. I'm glad you're fine." Grum'Thal wrapped his arm around Adam's shoulder with a deep chuckle. "I would throw a celebration to honor your feat, and we could have drunk until sunrise while sharing stories. Unfortunately, we both know time is ticking. But I can't let you leave just like that. Grakka!"

Grakka knelt before them, presenting a long weapon wrapped in a thick sheet of leather.

Grum'Thal threw the leather up, revealing a crescent double-edged axe. One side glinted molten red like the crystallisation of fire and earth. The other was pale blue like wintry wind trapped ice. On both edges, lightning arcs crackled in greetings before falling silent, waiting to be unleashed against the enemies of the orcs.

Adam leaned forward, his eyes locked on the axe. Beautiful. Powerful. A weapon enchanted by the orcs... Most likely the last one in existence, Thaur'Gorath's treasure and the memories of their fallen ancestors.

And yet, Grum'Thal handed it to him. "The Split Tempest. It's yours. I hope it'll protect you as it protected me back then and allow us to reunite."

The shamans, the legendary warriors—they all gave him solemn nods, echoing. "You're one of us. You deserve it more than any of us."

Gora nudged Adam, while Bao clapped her paws.

Adam bit his lip as he gripped the axe's shaft. It was cool against his palm, but the engraved flames, gales, hills, rivers, and lightning bolts felt heavy, especially when his system flared with a silent option.

[Tier-nine ancestral axe: The Split Tempest detected. Soul binding available. Proceed? Yes/No]

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AN: What do you think? Will Adam's first tier 9 weapon be this amazing axe, the treasure of the orcs locked in the ceremonial ground for fifteen thousand years? Or...