Chapter 26
#26. The Discarded Pawn
A gigantic cave far to the north of Winterwald.
The cave was hot from the heat given off by hundreds of orcs.
There was one unusual thing in this cave that ordinary orc settlements did not have.
It was a throne.
A huge orc sat upon a throne fashioned from the bones of various monsters.
His name was Tarkan.
He was a mutant orc and the Great Chieftain who had subdued and united the scattered tribes through force.
"Krrk…."
"I… will obey…!"
At Tarkan's feet, the orc chieftains who had ruled as kings in their respective territories lay face-down, covered in blood and trembling.
Those who had resisted had long since been torn limb from limb and fed to the surrounding monsters.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Just then, an orc approached through the blizzard from the cave entrance.
It was Karak, Tarkan's adjutant and the second-in-command of the orc army.
With a pair of blood-dripping axes strapped to his back, he knelt on one knee before Tarkan's throne.
His booming voice echoed through the cave.
"Kurrk…! Great Chieftain! The nineteen tribes ruling the western lands have sworn allegiance to you! Now half of the North lies beneath your feet!"
Karak's eyes were filled with loyalty.
He panted heavily, looking as though he expected praise.
But Tarkan merely shook his head coldly.
"That isn't enough, Karak."
"Kurrk… Even after gaining nineteen tribes…?"
When Karak asked again as though he could not understand, Tarkan slowly rose from his seat.
As he stood, the orcs around the throne involuntarily took a step back one after another.
Karak was also so enormous that he could look down on the other orcs.
But before Tarkan, he looked like nothing more than an undergrown child.
"To smash through the humans' walls and seize the warm lands within, we must unite every tribe into one."
Tarkan's gaze turned toward the distant depths of the cave.
North. In the direction beyond the frozen wasteland where the Demon King slept.
"The evil energy grows stronger with each passing day. The magic is becoming corrupted, and the monsters are going mad. Someday… the Demon King will be resurrected."
"Kurrk… The Demon King…?"
"Yes. When that time comes, this frozen land will be trampled beneath the Demon King's army. Before we are driven out of the North like fugitives, we must seize the humans' warm lands and make them our new territory. That is the only way our orcs can survive."
Tarkan possessed insight on an entirely different level from his kin, who raided simply because they were hungry.
As Karak racked his brain trying to understand the Great Chieftain's words,
a hunched silhouette emerged from behind the throne.
It was the old orc shaman Gur, wearing a beast's skull over his head and leaning on a staff.
"Great Chieftain… The crows we sent to scout have returned."
"Report, Gur."
Gur closed his cloudy eyes and communicated with the crows.
"The humans' rampart is different from before."
"Different from before?"
"Yes. The old, dilapidated wall is gone, and the entire rampart has hardened with a blue sheen. Above all… the aura emanating from its ruler is far from ordinary."
Gur swallowed dryly before continuing.
"They are somehow different from the humans of the past. Very, very strong. Not only the ruler—the humans guarding the rampart have also become as fierce as beasts."
"……."
Tarkan fell silent.
This was unlike the past, when humans exhausted by cold and hunger had trembled as they pointed their spears.
If they charged recklessly now, they would merely spill the tribe's blood for nothing.
Tarkan reached a conclusion.
"The southern advance is postponed until winter deepens. Focus solely on completely uniting the remaining orc tribes."
"Kurrk…! But, Great Chieftain! They are weak humans! Our axes can smash through a wall like that in a single blow!"
The warlike Karak shouted as though frustrated.
Tarkan's cold gaze turned toward him.
"Karak. Charging in with nothing but your body and becoming a target for the humans is foolish."
Tarkan looked toward the shaman Gur again.
"Gur. You have always been interested in human magic and tools, have you not?"
"Yes, Great Chieftain. I have."
"Find an effective way to destroy their walls. Build catapults or learn new magic. I leave the method to you. We must crush them all at once with overwhelming force."
"I… will obey."
Gur bowed his head, while Karak scowled as though he could not understand.
The idea of a mighty orc imitating the methods of weak humans.
It was an insult to his pride.
Just then, Karak, who was always quick to forget things, remembered an orc who had said the same thing as him and opened his mouth.
"Great Chieftain… I just remembered something I need to report."
"What is it?"
"The group led by ‘Krok’ left the main force without reporting in. Claiming they could not wait for the chieftain's orders, they led five hundred elites toward the humans' wall on their own."
A tribal chief who had rebelled against Tarkan's orders and deserted.
It was a situation that should have provoked anger, but Tarkan instead let out a cold laugh.
"How foolish. I treated him as an ally rather than a subordinate because he was somewhat strong, and now he is going to die without even knowing his place."
"Kurrk…! Shall I chase after him at once and bring back Krok's head?"
"No. Leave him be."
Tarkan leaned back against the throne and closed his eyes.
"They will make perfect meat shields, allowing us to see just how sharp the human ruler's blade is."
The forces of Great Chieftain Tarkan
had taken root in the mountains and were slowly growing in strength.
***
A snow-covered wilderness some distance from Winterwald's rampart.
"Kraaahhhh!"
An orc's ear-splitting roar tore through the fierce blizzard.
The prideful orc chieftain Krok was leading five hundred elite troops south, trampling across the snow.
In Krok's hand was a fearsome bone axe carved from the solid bone of a giant wyvern.
"Kurrk…! Tarkan…! You cowardly bastard!"
Krok spat out a glob of phlegm and shouted.
For an orc, he was quite skilled at imitating human speech.
Once they became tribal chiefs, they naturally learned the language so they could issue orders.
"Kurrk…! Since when did orcs start copying human tools? Orcs are a race that conquers everything with our enormous bodies and a single weapon! Kurrk…! Isn't that right, my brothers!"
The orcs following Krok responded by baring their filthy teeth.
"Krrk! Human! Meat!"
"Human! Eat! Weak! Delicious!"
Their intelligence was low, so they could not form complex sentences, but they followed orders well.
Their eyes burned with a craving for blood and human flesh.
Krok smiled in satisfaction as he stroked his wyvern-bone axe.
"Kukuk…! I will smash the humans' wall to pieces with my axe in a single blow! Once the gate falls, gorge yourselves on those frail humans trembling inside and make them pay for laughing at us!"
"Human! Eat!"
“Human! Delicious!”
"Kurrk…! By the time Tarkan finally arrives, we will already have seized all the humans' warm lands! I will knock that bastard's arrogance flat!"
Krok recalled the distant past.
The walls humans built by piling up stones had been weak.
A few blows of an axe had been enough to bring them down.
Behind the fallen walls, frail, skinny human soldiers had trembled as they pointed their spears.
At the memory of that sweet taste of blood, hot drool dripped from the corners of Krok's mouth.
Back then, his belly had been full, so he had turned back, but today there were plenty of mouths to feed.
Eating monster meat made you stronger, but it tasted awful.
He was sick of it.
Why keep trying to get stronger when he could simply eat delicious humans?
Tarkan was a coward.
Tarkan was boring.
His subordinates had chosen to follow him rather than the boring Tarkan.
"Hurry! Before the sun sets, we'll tear out their guts and eat them!"
Krok and the five hundred orcs charged toward Winterwald like starving beasts.
How long had they run?
The fierce northern blizzard began to clear gradually.
A smile spread across Krok's savage face.
“Kurrk…! I see it! The humans' wall is right th—!"
Krok's words did not reach the end.
Krok stopped in his tracks at the mysterious sight he had never seen before.
"……Kurrk?!"
Krok opened his mouth with a foolish expression.
In fact, most orcs had rather stupid-looking faces anyway.
"Kurrk… What in the world is that?"
The old rampart from his memories—
the one that would collapse after a single swing of an axe—was gone from Winterwald.
Instead, a magnificent fortress towered in its place.
Steelwood from the Howling Sea of Trees formed its framework,
while blue-glowing slime gel filled every gap.
It was, quite literally, an impregnable fortress.
"K-Krrk…? Chief? That… attack?"
"That… hit it…?"
Even the stupid orcs instinctively sensed that if they struck that wall with their axes, only the axes' edges would be chipped.
But the wall's material was not what truly bewildered Krok.
It was the expressions of the humans packed densely across the top of the rampart.
In Krok's memories, humans became filled with fear whenever orcs appeared, dropping their spears and screaming as they cowered.
Even the knights who bravely stood against them had eyes filled with terror.
Humans were, by nature, weak and cowardly creatures.
But the humans looking down at them from atop the rampart now were different.
"Kiiiyaaaah-ha-ha!!"
"They're here! Looks like there are five hundred of them!"
"Big Brother! Let's show them the archery skills of adventurers from the South!!"
"You bet! Forget house prices—everything's so expensive I can't afford to live! Our Gale party is taking all the orc magic stones!!"
The humans were not afraid at all.
They were grinning with saliva dripping from the corners of their mouths.
The orcs had never once in their lives received such a look from humans.
Humans with thin skin.
And therefore soft and delicious.
For some reason, they were not shivering from the cold.
The orcs were bewildered.
Because there was a sun shining above the rampart.
"W-why is there… a sun…?”
Overwhelmed by the humans' ferocity, Krok took a small step backward.
It was the first time anything like this had happened since he was born.
His face flushed bright red with shame.
He could not accept it.
Krok clenched his teeth.
"Kurrk… Kurrk…! It's all an illusion! Those humans are merely putting on airs because they are terrified!"
Krok raised his wyvern-bone axe high into the sky and shouted until his voice gave out.
"Press forward! Smash through the weak wall, split open the bellies of those insolent bastards, and make them pay for mocking us!"
"Woooooaaahhh!!"
Krok's roar awakened the beasts' instincts within the orcs.
The orcs began charging toward the wall.
Without the slightest idea that a monstrous Grand Duke was waiting where they were headed, blade at the ready.