Transmigrated As An Extra In The Apocalypse
Chapter 108 - 107: Tharnork

Chapter 108: Chapter 107: Tharnork

The air changed.

I didn’t need to see him to know something monstrous was coming.

I could feel it.

Like a shift in the atmosphere, sudden, heavy, and oppressive.

The kind of presence that made breathing feel like dragging shards of glass down your throat.

All around me, people started shifting, whispering, some falling silent altogether as the weight bore down on us like an invisible boulder.

Even Ori stiffened beside me, the playful glint he usually had completely gone.

And then I saw him.

A bitter smile tugged at the corner of my lips, more reflex than emotion.

"Yeah... that’s him," I muttered under my breath, voice barely above a whisper.

I stared past the crowd, past the frightened eyes and trembling shoulders of the newest captives being shoved forward by snarling goblins and stomping orcs.

I didn’t even register the people anymore.

My eyes were fixed on the space behind them... on him.

Tharnok.

The Fifth Orc Lord.

The Gravity Orc Lord.

His name alone carried the weight of dread, and now I understood why.

The moment he stepped into view, it felt like the very world bent to his will.

His armor clanked with each step, heavy, almost ceremonial in how polished and complete it looked, black metal etched with red glowing runes, jagged and ancient, covering every inch of his massive frame.

There was no skin to be seen, no gap in his armor, like it had been forged around him, or maybe he had been born from it.

His face, was that of a true orc.

A beast molded from war.

Wide, brutal features set in a permanent scowl, eyes burning with molten gold.

Not intelligence.

Not cruelty.

Just pure, unstoppable power.

The goblins scattered the moment he appeared, parting like a wave before a boulder.

No one told them to move, they just knew.

Some even dropped to one knee as he passed.

The orcs stood taller, proud, but even they gave him a wide berth.

And the humans?

The prisoners?

They didn’t need to be told to move either.

They couldn’t not move.

The pressure coming off him pushed them aside like leaves in a storm, forcing them out of his way without him lifting a single finger.

People gasped, stumbled, clutched their chests, some even fell to their knees.

One man near the front collapsed entirely, wheezing as if his lungs had suddenly forgotten how to work.

I watched it all, frozen in place, that bitter smile still clinging to my face like I didn’t know what else to wear.

He didn’t speak.

He didn’t need to.

Just his presence alone was enough to make the world feel smaller.

In the novel, I remember Tharnok being described as the embodiment of domination.

He didn’t yell.

He didn’t roar.

He existed, and the rest of the world obeyed.

That was all it took.

And now... seeing him here, in front of me, no longer just a string of words on a glowing screen?

Terrifying didn’t even begin to cover it.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to calm my racing thoughts.

So this was it.

The Fifth Orc Lord had returned from war.

And with him here, things were only going to get worse.

The tension didn’t ease as Tharnok moved further into the cavern.

If anything, the air thickened with each heavy step he took.

He didn’t rush.

He didn’t need to.

Every footfall was a declaration of power, slow, deliberate, and echoing with the confidence of someone who knew no one here could challenge him and live.

Then, another orc stepped forward.

Not just any orc, this one was massive, taller than the others, with muscle so defined it looked carved from stone.

His armor was thick and heavy, darker than even Tharnok’s, and what stood out most was the helmet in his grasp.

A massive piece of steel, perfectly shaped, with no opening, no eye slits, no breath vents, nothing.

Just a seamless, dome-like helm.

It looked like a prison for the head... or a throne, depending on who wore it.

The huge orc dropped to one knee before Tharnok, bowing deeply, both hands offering the helmet with the kind of reverence priests gave holy relics.

Not a word passed between them, but the silence said enough.

I could feel it in the way the goblins trembled nearby, in how even the other orcs watched without blinking.

This was no ordinary helmet.

Tharnok’s head tilted ever so slightly as he looked at the offering.

A slow grin crept across his face, the kind that felt wrong, wrong in a way that made your stomach twist.

There was nothing joyful in it.

No amusement.

Just something dark and primal, like a wolf baring its teeth before the kill.

The orc holding the helmet flinched.

I saw it, just the tiniest shiver in his hulking frame.

And that was all I needed to understand.

That grin wasn’t just for show.

It was a warning.

A promise.

The Fifth Orc Lord was pleased... and that was terrifying.

With an ease that contradicted the sheer weight the helmet must’ve carried, Tharnok reached out, wrapped his massive clawed hand around the metal, and lifted it from the orc’s grasp.

The orc bowed even deeper, almost pressing his forehead to the cold stone floor.

Then, in silence, Tharnok raised the helmet and lowered it slowly over his head.

The runes on his armor pulsed, first red, then a dull blue, just for a moment, like they recognized their king had fully adorned his crown.

A quiet tremor rippled through the ground, nothing violent, more like the world itself holding its breath.

When the helmet locked into place with a low, metallic clunk, I swore the air got colder.

He was complete now.

And that... that terrified me in a way I wasn’t ready to admit.

This wasn’t just an orc wearing armor.

This was a walking disaster, a god among monsters, stepping into the role he was born to play.

Tharnok had returned.

And whatever he was planning next, it wouldn’t be merciful.