Everything descended into Chaos and Carnage then. He rose into the air to get a great view of the valley. Then he bombarded the valley efficiently with his aerial advantage. He killed them with spells while the red cloud of slaughter absorbed the death essence from his fresh kills.
Things got really hectic when he finally set up his magic arsenal. A magical structure made up of his divine sense created solely for the transformation of his spiritual energy into fireballs by fusing it readily with atmospheric mana. It was like Armageddon descended upon the valley. He stood above everything in the air while he rained down destruction on them.
He targeted the Alphas mostly. That incapacitated the Betas and stopped the pack from coming together as a whole. They couldn't work together and coordinate their actions due to the absence of their Alphas. That hampered their attempts to escape. He managed to kill thousands of them but many of them escaped. The Vampires also escaped in the Chaos.
"Just 6 thousand out of 9 thousand. That's barely passable for a massacre."
He fought the remaining warriors who are 9 thousand and he managed to kill 6 thousand of them in 10 minutes. Other mana entities will feel pride that killed 10 vitality core stage refiners every second. But he holds himself to a higher standard. The only thing that makes him feel refreshed and pleasureful is the fact that the Warrogs howled in misery and pain as they were slaughtered.
He shrugged. "I tried my best. They are not the main course anyway."
His inner beast is practically skipping in excitement and anticipation at the prospect of the main course. The slaughter that just took place has only wet its appetite despite drinking deeply of the death essence of the slain Warrogs.
"Let's go harvest what we have planted." He said.
Then he flew into the mountain range and began killing the unsuspecting Nameless. They are his main course. He has fattened them up nicely over these hundred years. He has sowed for so long. It is high time he reaped what he sowed.
The Nameless were not worried despite the sound of fighting and destruction that they heard. They are not involved in conflicts so they felt safe. After all, nameless are blameless. They were wrong to think that. Ragnarok doesn't care about some rules of warfare. He only cares about power. Killing them will give him that power so he will kill them.
The poor Warrogs cried and screamed. They didn't even beg because they didn't know who was killing them. All they know is that fire is falling from the sky. To these weaklings who have always been sheltered by the pack and have always loved in peace even when their packs were defeated, they can't fathom that a Warrog will hurt them and their eyesight is too weak to see the figure in the sky producing the flames that is sending them to the afterlife in large numbers.
Disaster visited the Iron Fur pack that day. Ragnarok killed to his heart's content. He killed everything that he could kill, even infant Warrogs and pregnant mothers. He killed both the aged and the young. He showed no mercy at all. The entire mountain range was demolished with fireballs and the ice turned red from all the blood that was spilled.
Those are the only signs of his massacre. His red cloud didn't leave any dead bodies behind. So the once prosperous mountain range became a desolate landscape of destroyed shelters, collapsed caves, and blood-soaked ice. There was no dead in sight. He only stopped when the pack became too scattered for him to chase.
About 700 thousand Warrogs died that night. They provided fresh death essence for him. He got a boost of 2900% from the killing. It is more than the 100 years' worth of offerings that he received. He received millions of offerings but they can't compare to the killing that he did over one night. It makes the total boost from his POWER stat reach 14,500%
He grinned and said, "I like plan B very much."
Plan A was to do nothing if Sauron had everything under control. He would have waited patiently for a chance to come. And a chance will come too.
Sauron can't kill Xigger permanently so Xigger will always come back. His opportunity to take the totem pole will certainly come. Plan C was to take the totem pole and escape immediately. He would have done that if Xigger was massively more powerful than Sauron. His chances of beating Xigger will be too low for him to risk it. So he better escape.
Plan B is the best of both worlds. He got to eat an ancestral vampire and a pack leader. He also got to harvest the farm that he had been growing for a hundred years. The conditions were right for him to take advantage of it.
If he had taken the totem pole to strengthen himself but it turned out that he was wrong about the effect it would have on him then he would have had a way out of the tricky situation.
He will be able to explain to Sauron that he did it to help and save the pack if the totem pole didn't make him stronger than Sauron. Unfortunately for Sauron, he was right and he became stronger than Sauron. So he didn't need to fear Sauron anymore.
He could have chosen to help Xigger but he is not one to put his life in the hands of someone else. Especially not when that person is the lackey of a demon God.
There is no guarantee that Xigger will listen to him or help him. Even if Xigger wants to, there is no guarantee that Xigger will be able to protect him. He can only rely on his strength and that of Legion. Those are the only things he can completely rely on for his safety.