Empire Builder 1: Breed, Populate, Conquer Dante King (i read books txt) 📖

But it was impressive—he had to admit. He might have to learn that trick one day.

Just as he’d hoped, pandemonium broke out. The other skinny ogre began howling with rage. He ran up to the leader and began ineffectively pummeling him with his fists. Several of his comrades got to their feet to join in, their voices booming, the tension between the barbarians near a breaking point.

They all let out cries of astonishment as they staggered on their weakened limbs, like they’d all gotten tired as hell suddenly. Ben smiled to himself, pleased to see his plan working. He’d taken most of their strength and given it to their leader without them noticing. And their leader didn’t appear to be in a good mood.

Several ogres took faltering steps toward their leader. Their expressions appeared aggressive, and Ben assumed they wanted to attack. But their limbs hardly had the strength to support them. Their expressions turned from rage to dismay as they seemed to realize they’d been robbed of their strength.

The alpha glanced down and locked his murderous gaze on the angry ogre who was attacking him. He raised his fist and smashed it down on the mountain ogre’s head. The man’s skull caved in with a sickening crack-splat, gray matter spurting out and showering the others in goo. His spine crumpled, and he fell to the ground, lifeless.

“Daaamn,” Ben said quietly to himself, impressed at the display.

As the commotion increased, the doors of the huts banged open and several more mountain ogres rushed out from either side of the campfire, shouting like madmen. Ben hadn’t had a chance to sap them of their strength of course, but if his analysis of the temper of these ogres was correct, he wouldn’t need to. They would turn on each other.

In all, a dozen mountain ogres were now in the clearing. Their shouts increased in volume, wild and frantic. As far as Ben could tell, they were all trying to desperately explain the situation to one another, all hoping to win the majority over to their side.

The “diplomacy” lasted all of half a minute. The bigger men quickly figured out that the simpler solution was simply to start cracking heads. And once the first punch was thrown, they launched into a ferocious melee.

Total chaos reigned as the giant men ripped limbs, smashed skulls, hurled stones, and crushed spines. Those that had weapons used them to brutal effect, hacking off limbs or heads.

One of the ogres grabbed a scimitar from the still-twitching hand of one of his slain buddies. Feeling bold, he went for the alpha. With a wild yell, he ran toward his former boss with bloodlust in his eyes and fury in his scream.

The alpha regarded him with something like amusement. And when the smaller ogre was close, the alpha deftly reached down, grabbed his shoulder and arm, then yanked the blade from his hand. With a motion surprisingly smooth for a beast his size, the alpha cleanly sliced off the sword arm of the attacker.

The now one-armed ogre stood still for a moment, his arm jetting blood in pulses. Then, when he realized what had happened, he let out a wild scream of pure pain. But the alpha wasn’t done with him yet. The huge ogre calmly squatted, plucking the severed arm from the ground.

He’s not really going to—

Ben didn’t have a chance to finish the thought before the alpha swung the arm like a club, the bicep connecting with the smaller ogre’s jaw and sending blood and teeth spraying out of his mouth. He tumbled backward and fell on his ass, the alpha pouncing with the arm raised above his head. The alpha brought it down again and again, smashing the face of the ogre to a bloody mess.

Beaten to death with your own damn arm. Hell of a way to go.

More scenes of total carnage like this followed, until five ogres remained—only then did they finally stop attacking each other. They stood in a circle, panting, eying each other warily, their faces covered with blood and gore, most missing teeth.

Ben and Melody didn’t have a moment to lose. Five was still too many to deal with if they were to come to their senses and band together. He glanced at Melody, but the look of determination on her face let him know she was already on top of it.

She nodded and raised her wand. “I can take care of these,” she stated. She quickly stepped onto the table and leaped out the window. Then she landed on her feet, facing the five giant ogres.

They stared at her in surprise. Before they could make a move, she flicked her wand. A tendril of bright blue lightning zapped across the clearing, striking the nearest ogre with a loud boom. The giant’s head popped, and a trail of smoke drifted up from his charred neck, before his body slumped to the ground, blood spurting from the smoking stump.

Then Melody struck again, and again. Before the mountain ogres could react, she had fired off four spells, though the interval between each successive strike was longer than the last.

Ben didn’t know how much mana she had, but he didn’t want to take any chances. Based on what she’d said earlier, she had most likely just exhausted her supply. Ben was on his feet already. Snatching up the scimitar from the floor in front of him, he leapt onto the table and climbed through the window behind her.

Melody’s tail was flared out and bushy, flicking back and forth. She was clearly agitated, and her knees seemed weak. Ben had eaten the last of the mana crystal, so she wouldn’t be able to replenish her supply for this fight. The rest was on him.

“Get behind the hut,” he shouted as he got to his feet beside Melody.

The giant’s hairy face registered surprise at seeing a second intruder emerge from the hut. With a snort, he began to stomp forward.

“I can still help