Chapter 31
#31. Even Orcs Tremble When Their Housing Subscription Is Canceled
At Kylan's instruction, the servants bustled about.
Clink.
The orcs held out their large palms and received leather pouches.
Everyone looked bewildered.
"……What's this?"
Krok, now fairly accustomed to human speech, asked on behalf of the other orcs.
Then Eleanor, the Grand Duchess of Winterwald, smiled brightly.
"It's your first paycheck."
"Pay… check?"
"Yes. It's the money you earned by working hard and sweating for a month!"
Krok undid the pouch's cord with a dazed expression.
Inside were thirty gleaming Imperial silver coins.
"How much… is this?"
"Thirty silver coins worth ten silvers each. That's 3 gold."
"Three gold…"
"Here in Winterwald, anyone who works receives fair compensation. It is His Highness the Grand Duke's will."
Kylan, standing with his arms crossed beside Eleanor, nodded with deliberate solemnity.
'The cost of feeding the orcs is higher than I expected. Maybe it'd be better to pay them wages and make them spend them within the territory…?'
The new city's commercial district would thrive, and more tax revenue would certainly flow in!
It was the vicious brainwave of a capitalist monster!
"And take this, too."
Eleanor placed a small piece of parchment in Krok's hand.
At the top, alongside Winterwald's crest, were the following words:
[Winterwald Orc City Housing Subscription Certificate]
"Win… Winterwald…?"
Housing subscription was far too difficult a term for orcs who had only just begun learning letters.
Still, at least they had learned to read Winterwald.
'If I let them remain illiterate, the orcs will eventually get cheated.'
If that happened, their will to work would decline, which could lead directly to lower productivity.
Kylan nodded, thinking he had done well to teach them their letters.
"If you work diligently and don't cause trouble, we'll stamp this parchment. Once you fill it with stamps, you'll gain the right to receive priority allocation of a house to be built in Winterwald Orc City."
Krok's pupils shook violently.
'Heh heh. The fool. He's overjoyed without even realizing he's been duped.'
After all, they were building a huge house for the orcs to live in; what good was priority allocation?
"Th-this warm house… You mean even orcs like us can have one?!"
They seemed to know exactly how warm it was, since they were the ones building the houses.
Eleanor drove the final point home to the ecstatic Krok.
"Of course, you'll have to pay for the house, but if your housing-subscription score is high, His Highness the Grand Duke will lend you money through a magical system called a 'mortgage loan.'"
"A-a loan…!"
Krok's face flushed red.
His shoulders trembled as he clutched the housing certificate.
"Now, I'll give you half a day's leave today, so go look around Winterwald's market. And be careful not to bump into anyone on the way!"
***
The shopping district of Winterwald's new city.
Around two hundred orcs came trooping in, wearing blue work clothes.
"Oh my! Just like the rumors say! They're actually lining up nicely!"
"Her Highness the Grand Duchess's mercy has even civilized the orcs!"
"Hey! You big orc fellow! Our meat pies are incredible. Come try one!"
Rather than flee upon seeing the orcs, the territory's residents were busy hawking their wares.
As time passed, the residents' perceptions changed greatly.
Every day, the orcs sweated profusely as they diligently carried materials at the construction site.
Their sobbing over a bowl of meat soup was no different from that of the territory's residents.
An orc wearing Winterwald's work clothes was a loyal worker of His Highness the Grand Duke.
Or perhaps a customer with a fat purse, having just collected today's wages.
Not long ago, a heartwarming story had even spread about an orc saving children who were nearly run over by a carriage, completely dispelling the residents' wariness.
"U-um……"
Krok timidly approached the shopping district. Golden-brown meat pies on the display counter were sending up curls of steam.
Krok extended one of the silver coins he had received earlier with a trembling hand.
"Th-this… pie. I'll buy."
"Oh my, thank you! Since you're such a big fellow, take another one on the house!"
The shopkeeper smiled brightly, placed two enormous meat pies in a paper bag, and handed them over.
"Free? Th-thank you."
"Hey there! You need to take your change!"
"Th-thank you."
"It's not just about thanking me, you silly fellow. Heh heh. Looks like you'll have to learn how to count money first."
Krok left the crowded main street and entered a quiet alley behind the shopping district.
He sat on a steel-framed wooden crate and took a large bite of the pie.
"……!!"
Juice exploded in his mouth.
The salty meat paired with the slightly hard bread.
It couldn't compare to the meat soup cooked by Her Highness Grand Duchess Eleanor, but…
"Meat pie, delicious…! Kuhhuhk……!"
Tears streamed down from Krok's eyes.
It was delicious.
Food purchased through a fair exchange with money honestly earned through sweat was truly worth eating.
To think he had once taken up weapons merely to destroy and plunder.
How foolish his former self had been.
'So this…… is the civilization His Highness the Grand Duke was talking about.'
Krok took the housing certificate from inside his clothes and carefully stroked it.
'I should apply for overtime again tomorrow. I'll collect stamps quickly and buy a house. I need to work hard.'
It was the moment a respectable Winterwald taxpayer with a dream of owning his own home was born.
It was then.
Flap flap!
A jet-black crow flew in and alighted lightly on Krok's shoulder.
The crow's eyes burned red.
It was the familiar of the shaman Gur.
[Krok…… Can you hear me……]
When the crow opened its beak, Gur's eerie voice rang out.
"G-Gur…?!"
[Krok. You're still alive. Before long, the Great Chieftain will unite all the tribes and begin marching with an army of five thousand.]
Krok's entire body went rigid.
Five thousand warriors capable of fighting, not just ordinary orcs!
Tarkan was truly coming to trample Winterwald.
[The Great Chieftain has graciously decided to forgive your rebellion. When the time comes, mobilize the warriors and start a riot inside the city. Open the gates and begin a festival of blood……!]
"Shut up, Gur!"
Krok glared at the crow and growled.
[W-what?! How dare you defy the Great Chieftain's order……!]
"I fought and lost in single combat with the pride of the Red Fang Tribe at stake. I am his subordinate now. I have no reason to obey Tarkan's orders."
Open the gates and start a riot?
Then what about his wages?
The housing certificate?
The warm house?
"Don't you dare test my loyalty!"
At Krok's firm refusal, the crow frowned.
[You fool…… You've been tamed by human feed and lost your wildness. Then with my magic, I'll forcibly awaken that boiling blood of yours!!]
Fwoooosh!
Dark magic energy burst from the crow's body and coiled around Krok's head.
The corrupted mana began defiling Krok's mind again, just as it had finally begun to purify.
"K-kwaaaagh!!"
Krok clutched his head and rolled across the ground.
His destructive instincts were beginning to awaken.
[Kill……! Burn……! Smash that tiny city and tear out the humans' throats……!!]
Gur's evil voice tried to erode Krok's soul.
Krok's pupils gradually lost focus and turned red.
Both his hands moved toward his waist.
Even though he no longer had his bone axe, his hands were searching for a weapon.
Rustle.
Just then, a sheet of parchment fell from Krok's chest.
The one he had carefully tucked into the inner pocket of his work clothes…
[Winterwald Orc City Housing Subscription Certificate]
"……K-kurrk?"
Krok imagined things as he gazed at the housing certificate.
A warm floor. A cozy home.
Himself laughing as he ate meat pies there.
'If I…… start a riot…… this housing certificate……?'
[Of course it will be confiscated! There is no house allocation for a convicted criminal!]
He could almost hear Her Highness Grand Duchess Eleanor saying it with an innocent smile.
'No……!'
Krok's eyes flew open.
'My housing certificate…… I worked hard for a whole month just to collect one stamp……!!'
The black magic tormenting Krok's mind scattered with the wind.
His dream of owning a home had overcome even black magic.
Krok, furious, grabbed Gur's crow.
"Caaaw?!"
Just as he was about to squeeze it…
Krok came up with a 'good idea.'
It was rare enough for an orc to think at all.
Coming up with a good idea was nothing short of a revolution!
Krok slowly released the crow, then reverted to the speech style of his old, ignorant days.
"Kurrk…! Thank you, Gur…! I almost let those human bastards brainwash me completely."
The crow, freed from his hand, fled to the top of the shop and looked down at Krok.
"Kurrk…! I understand…! I'll follow Great Chieftain Tarkan's orders…! I'll open the gate from inside whenever you wish…! And I'll periodically pass along information from here… Kurrk…!"
***
The cave where Chieftain Tarkan resided.
"Kheorrrgh……!!"
The shaman Gur exhaled and placed a hand on the floor.
It had been dangerous.
When the crow was injured while Gur's consciousness was sent into his familiar, the shock returned to the caster in full.
When he sent his consciousness as deeply as he had just now, he could easily have died for nothing.
"What happened, Gur?"
Tarkan, seated on his throne, looked down at Gur by moving only his eyes, as though bored.
Gur wiped the saliva from his mouth and rose.
"Great Chieftain…! Krok says he'll follow the Great Chieftain's orders. He says he'll open the gate from inside when you wish and continue passing along information about the humans."
"Really? Good."
"Indeed…! If the elite orcs cause a disturbance from within, the humans won't dare interfere with the Great Chieftain's honorable battle."
“I see."
"But the thing is…"
"What is it?"
"N-nothing. That's all Krok told me."
Indeed, Krok had said just that.
He would open the gate and pass along information on the humans.
For Krok, it was a fairly crafty plan, which struck Gur as slightly odd.
Well… but he was the head of a tribe.
Surely even he could put his mind to work that much once in a while.
Gur dismissed it without a second thought.
***
There was a man quietly watching the conversation between Krok and the crow from the darkness.
It was Kylan, wearing a black coat.
He had arrived at the scene before anyone else after receiving a report from a mage in the guard unit who had detected an evil presence.
And he had watched everything while concealing his presence.
Once the crow disappeared, Krok smirked.
"…Heh heh. I need to report to His Highness the Grand Duke quickly. Krok, you're really smart!"
"No need to report. I've heard it all."
"Kylan… His Highness the Grand Duke…!"
Krok naturally dropped to one knee and paid his respects.
'…Oh. So his obsession with owning a house was enough to overcome even black magic.'
Kylan's blue eyes curved like crescent moons.
Tarkan had said he would march with an army of five thousand.
Five thousand. That meant five thousand cheap, eco-friendly biological excavators he could put to work were coming his way.
'Heh heh heh. Tarkan. I'll put the soldiers you've worked so hard to gather to good use.'
The laughter of the monstrous Grand Duke and the orc echoed through the back alley for some time.
"Heh heh heh…!"
"Kurrk! Kurrk!"