Villain With The Strongest System - Chapter 275

Chapter 275: The Orc Village
( Buhara’s POV )

Kronos was not the only one who had unfinished business in other parts of the universe, as Buhara also had unfinished commitments of his own.

As he returned to his Orc Village for the first time in over a year, Buhara was pretty excited to meet his friends and family who had all seen him off to the university with pride and gusto.

“Oye! Duhara, look— Buhara is back! That weakling is home!” Guhara told Duhara, as Buhara’s two childhood friends who were working in the fields just outside the Orc Village, spotted their friends return before anyone else.

“GUHARA! DUHARA!” Buhara greeted, as his two friends dropped their plowing tools and charged towards their returning friend.

“BRING IT–” said Buhara, his facial expressions confident as he planted his feet and prepared for the traditional Orc greeting.

“Urararararara–” shouted Duhara and Guhara at once as they ran at their top speed towards Buhara with the intention of shoulder tackling him to the ground.

The closer the duo approached, the more momentum they gained until they launched themselves in the air, with the intention to tackle Buhara to the floor.

*Thud*

*Thud*

Unfortunately, to the extreme surprise of Duhara and Guhara, the two of them could not tackle Buhara to the ground as when they tried tackling him, Buhara did not budge an inch and instead stood firm.

“On the chief’s beard….. Buhara is strong now”

“On the chief’s weapon….. Buhara can no longer be called puny Buhara”

Duhara and Guhara noted, as Buhara laughed out loud.

“HAHAHAHA— Call me Mighty Buhara now!” Buhara demanded, as his two friends began worshiping him immediately.

“We hail Mighty Buhara”

“We support mighty Buhara as the next village chief”

The duo said, as Buhara wrapped his hands around their shoulders and started to merrily walk towards the village.

Buhara’s home village was called Goruk-Tor, a small but bustling Orc settlement nestled in a valley surrounded by jagged mountains.

The village was a collection of sturdy, stone huts with thatched roofs, built to withstand the harsh weather and occasional raids from neighboring tribes.

At first glance, the most impressive feature of the village seemed to be the central bonfire, where the villagers gathered for meals and celebrations, however, the real speciality of Goruk-Tor were the series of blacksmith forges located in the village which made it a popular destination for crafting weapons.

The air of Goruk-Tor was always filled with the sounds of clanging metal from the blacksmith’s forge, the rhythmic thud of hammers against anvils, and the chatter of Orcs going about their daily lives.

Life in Goruk-Tor was simple but harsh. The average Orc in the village spent their days working in the fields or hunting in the dense forests that surrounded the valley.

Strength was valued above all in the Orc society, and every Orc, young or old, was expected to contribute to the village’s survival.

Children were trained to hunt from an early age, learning the ways of combat and the lore of their ancestors.

Yet, despite the rough lifestyle, there was a strong sense of community among the Orcs.

They worked, fought, and celebrated together, with the village elders leading rituals and recounting tales of legendary Orc warriors. The bonds of family and friendship were unbreakable, and even in times of hardship, the Orcs of Goruk-Tor stood together, resilient and proud.

Hence when Buhara, son of the village chief and one of the darlings of the village returned to Goruk-Tor after a year, the excitement amongst the villagers was palpable.

“Look at him now!” shouted an older Orc woman, her eyes wide with amazement. “Buhara’s grown so big! Did they feed you nothing but dragon meat at that university?” She inquired, as she looked genuinely amazed to see Buhara’s rippling muscles.

Another Orc, a burly blacksmith with arms like tree trunks, chuckled as he pointed at Buhara’s broad shoulders. “If Buhara keeps growing like this, we’ll need to widen the doorframes of his father’s hut! The chief’s son won’t fit through anymore!”

“Or maybe,” a cheeky young female Orc piped up, grinning mischievously, “he’s gotten so strong to carry his future wife over the threshold! Eh, Buhara? When’s the wedding, sister Sohara misses you dearly~”

This comment drew hearty laughs from the crowd, with a few of the younger Orcs elbowing each other and winking at Buhara. “Better get started on making some little warriors of your own, Buhara!” another called out, earning a playful smack from his neighbor.

Listening to all these comments, Buhara felt his face flush with embarrassment, as he could only laugh along with the rest of them.

“Let me meet my father first before I seek out Sohara!” he bellowed, as he made his way back to his hut.

Naturally, the lighthearted banter continued as the villagers swarmed around Buhara, eager to welcome him back with all the warmth and humor that made Goruk-Tor a true home and they only paused when the village chief rushed out of his hut to greet his returning son.

“Chief–”

“Chief!”

“Chief–”

The villagers immediately bowed in respect at the sight of Buhara’s father who was the strongest warrior in Goruk-Tor.

His red skin was covered in scars throughout, which were proof of the sacrifices he had made for the wellbeing of the village and the countless life and death battles that he had fought and won.

The respect that Buhara’s father commanded was not because of fear but rather love, as there was not a single villager in Goruk-Tor who would not die to keep the Village Chief safe.

“Chief–” Buhara said, bowing his head as his father embraced him warmly.

“You’re a climber now Buhara. You don’t have to call me chief anymore” His father reminded as he hugged his son tighter.

Although he did not show it often, he was the one who had probably missed Buhara the most over the past year and was the one who was the happiest at his unexpected return today.