A young Spartan soldier looked over the canyon before him. He smiled at the sight laid bare in front of him by the fast rising sun.

The soldier's attention was drawn to an English accent close to him:

"Astinos, you know you are creepy as shit when you smile like that, right?"

Astinos chuckled at his young British friend and replied:

"A red sun rises. Blood has been spilt this night."

Y/N chuckled and shook his head. He pointed to the hundreds of dead orcs that lay strewn across the bloody battlefield in front of them.

"You need the sun to tell you that? Did you miss the action? Likely offering your backside to the thespians"

"You didn't see me Y/N? Perhaps I was too far in front of you?" Astinos shot back.

Y/N laughed loudly, his mirth only subsiding as the ground shook.

"Earthquake?" Astinos asked the young British Lord.

"No my friend. Battle positions. SPARTANS TO ME. ANOTHER WAVE!"

AROO!

AROO!

AROO!

The sounds of the hundred warriors charging from the rear echoed across the canyon.

"Phalanx on me! Dilios to my left. Stelios to my right! Today no Spartan dies!" Y/N barked orders to the warriors under his command.

AROO!

AROO!

AROO!

Wands clashed with orcish enchanted spears. The orcs behind screamed 'forward', the ones in front screamed 'back'. Slaves didn't make for good warriors. It was another massacre.

—~—

Y/N wiped the black orcish blood from his brow. The remnants of this horde had fled. The Spartans under his command were dispatching any survivors remaining alive from the bloodbath.

Y/N bit into an apple as he kicked an orc onto its back. It clung to life- it's face and the right side of its chest burnt beyond recognition.

Foul creature. Too stubborn to die.

Y/N's attention was drawn to the spy he had dispatched to the hill above the orc camp who ran back to the battlefield, out of breath, panting:

"My Lord. My Lord!"

"Calm yourself boy. Catch your breath" Y/N said calmly as he took another bite.

The Spartan was likely ten years older than Y/N. However, in the strictly enforced chain of command he was but a child to a Lord of the realm, a descendant of Holy Leonidas.

"Thank you my Lord" the soldier puffed out before continuing:

"Small contingent approaching. Too small for an attack. It's him. It's Azog!"

Y/N pondered the approach momentarily. Taking another bite of the apple before throwing it to the soldier who happily bit in as well. Y/N turned to a grizzled soldier, Artemis, his captain and second in command.

"Captain. I leave you in charge in my stead."

"My Lord..." the Captain started to argue.

"Relax my friend. If they assassinate the Archduke, all of Magical Britain goes to war. Pray they are that stupid. Pray we are that lucky" Y/N chuckled.

The Spartan army had been besieged by orc attack after orc attack for months. They were streaming west from the Far East- Russia, China, India, all heading towards Britain. It was the apocalypse indeed. Numerous international calls for help were made to the Ministry of Magic, MACUSA, France, Germany, the International Confederation of Wizards. So far none had come. It seemed Fudge wasn't the only Minister to have their heads in the sand and Sparta's army was spread thin, attempting to defend all of Europe's eastern flank. Anything less than the peak fighting force with three thousand years of warrior culture would have likely been wiped out. As it was the Spartans had suffered devastating losses. The arrival of three powerful and seasoned warriors, especially two of whom who were descendants of Leonidas, were gratefully received by the Spartan generals two and a half months prior. Y/N was pulled from his thoughts as the captain answered.

"Yes My Lord!"

"Besides..." Y/N chuckled as he unsheathed his Angel Blade and impaled the burnt Orc in the face, killing him instantly.

"...There's no reason we can't be civil. Is there?"

"None my Lord!" Artemis answered as he dispatched another wounded orc with a killing curse.

No retreat, No surrender. No prisoners, no mercy.

The Sacred Laws of Spartan combat were adhered to religiously. Y/N walked towards the approaching convoy on foot, smiling to himself.

—~—

He arrived at the convoy and chuckled. The white orc was riding a warg, a ferocious dark creature that made a Direwolf like Hati look like a puppy.

Don't have one of those Y/N thought to himself as he began whispering.

You there, warg. Do you like your master?

You are a whisperer? I despise him but am chained in servitude the Warg replied.

Interesting. You won't be for much longer.

Y/N looked up at Azog as he climbed from his warg. He stood over seven foot tall and appeared to be an albino. He had risen through the orc ranks the previous century and united the orc hordes. He had made an agreement with Lilith and the Knights for the promise of power.

Fluffy had stood guard at the magically sealed barrier doors of the Underworld for millenia, removed only by his charismatic mask wearing previous owner in late 1990. Since then Orcs had been escaping and the Ministries of India, China and Russia overwhelmed hiding evidence of their attacks from muggles and the wider Wizarding world. The previous year though, right around Y/N's breaking of the first seal in Azkaban, the Hordes had began breaking out on masse and passing through Europe towards the small island nation.

Azog wished to turn the people of Britain into chattel. To feast on man flesh. To turn its women to sex slaves. Cut off the island nation from the world and turn it into an Orc Nation. Lillith had agreed happily.

Orcs truly were foul creatures. Classed as half breeds they had originally been the race of high elves in the first age. God's most beloved creation after man. They had been taken by Lucifer prior to his imprisonment. Tortured and mutilated, they were turned to a ruined and cursed form of life.

"You must be... Azog right?" Y/N asked the larger Orc with a smirk. It wasn't often Y/N was made to look up when he spoke.

"I am the Defiler. You are foolish to come alone boy!" The orc sneered. His handful of soldiers started to approach Y/N with their spears drawn. Y/N smirked, unsheathing his wand and firing a circle of Diabolica around the entourage.

The orcs snarled in fear as the blue flames licked up. One tried to run through them and escape- it was turned to ash as it howled in agonising pain. Azog turned back to look at Y/N, fear in his eyes.

"The Grindelwald?!?"

"Lord Y/N L/N. Archduke of Magical Britain. The Prophesied One. You have no business in these lands Orc. You have one chance to survive. One. I suggest you listen!" Y/N spoke with darkening eyes and a sadistic tone in his voice.

The white orc looked at Y/N fearfully as Y/N's eyes grew even darker.

"Put your spear on the floor and kneel!"

Two orcs charged him. One was turned to ash by a lick of Diabolica. The other was incinerated screaming by a ball of fire from Y/N's hand as he chuckled darkly.

"Anyone else?"

The four remaining orc soldiers threw down their spears and dropped to their knees. Azog did so begrudgingly.

"You are mine now Azog. You and all orc filth. I own you. You will return to your homelands, your caverns. You will bother no one on the way. I will call upon you when you are needed. Disobey my orders and you will be sorry. Do you accept these terms and swear fealty orc? You have no other choice if you wish to live."

"I do!" Azog spat before gripping his chest tightly.

Y/N smirked further as the orc screamed in pain. Moments later the four remaining orc soldiers did the same. Azog looked down in horror as a white skull appeared on his chest.

"You have pledged your loyalty and you are now marked as my property. As you owned all other orcs, now I own all other orcs. You are dismissed. Leave. But I'm keeping the warg."

Y/N waved his wand, nonverbally casting alohomora. The warg's chains dropped from his neck and back.

The warg looked at them and walked calmly forward, standing beside Y/N, growling at Azog as it did.

Y/N smirked as the Diabolica was extinguished. He turned his back to leave and Azog got to his feet, roaring and lifting his spear. He moved to thrust it into Y/N's back as Y/N tutted and shook his head.

"Such a fool!"

Azog paused mid thrust as he felt something off, the other orcs watching in fear as he suddenly screamed an ear piercing scream. They watched in horror as Azog died agonisingly- the flesh closest to his dark mark melting from his torso and it quickly spread across his body. He was soon reduced to bones which dropped to the floor and turned to ash.

The other orcs watched in terror as Y/N turned with eyes that seemed to blacken in front of them.

"So passes Azog the Defiler. This fate awaits all orcs who try to circumvent my will. I need one of you to volunteer now.... to be my pet. You will be treated far better than you have been by..."

Y/N looked at the small pile of Azog's ashes which were already being scattered in the wind.

"... that!"

One orc stood, glancing down at his feet.

"I will my Lord."

"What is your name orc?" Y/N asked with a smile.

"Ratbag, my Lord"

"Step through this Ratbag. You will live in an enclosure. You will live in peace. Watch out for the Lethifold though, he's a little grumpy."

Y/N opened a portal and Ratbag slinked through before it closed.

"You there Orc. You are now in charge of the Orcish colony in China, you Russia, you India. All Orcs are now branded as you are. If you do right until I call you. You fight bravely when I summon you, orcs will be granted freedom to live in peace. Warn all though what happened here. Azog's fate will be shared by any who disobey me. Now go."

The three orcs stood, bowed and after picking up their spears, ran back towards their camp as fast as they could.

Do you have a name warg? Y/N whispered.

No. I was only called beast.

Hmm. That won't do. How about Sköll? The mighty wolf who darted across the sky trying to eat the sun?

I like it Master!

Call me Y/N. You will live your days in peace on a Reserve with other magical creatures. But do you mind if I ride you first? I've never ridden a warg before.

Sköll howled in agreement as Y/N summoned one of Hati's spare saddles from his pouch and fixed it to Sköll's back. He picked up Azog's spear and held it. His latest trophy.

"Yar!" He called out, riding back to his Spartan forces. He had much to report.

A/N: A short one to start but we are away with book 4. Hope you enjoyed, don't forget to vote and comment!