#33. Dead Orcs Don't Make Money

#33. Dead Orcs Don't Make Money

The conference room in Winterwald's Grand Ducal Castle.

This was normally a place where people celebrated the new city's housing sales figures and contracts with new merchant guilds.

But today, the atmosphere was taut, like a sheet of thin ice.

The former chieftain of the Red Fang Tribe.

Krok had joined the meeting.

Though, given his size, he could only attend through a crystal ball.

"Vassals, listen."

Kylan, seated at the head of the conference table, rested his chin on his interlaced fingers and began speaking in a heavy, subdued voice.

Gulp.

The key vassals, including Knight Commander Cedric, swallowed nervously and kept their eyes fixed on their lord, waiting for him to speak.

"I have received intelligence from my loyal informant, Krok. It seems that Great Chieftain Tarkan, who had been lurking deep in the Northern Mountains, has finally completed unifying all the tribes."

Kylan's blue eyes slowly swept across the conference room.

"As I said at the last meeting, there are five thousand of them. They will march south toward Winterwald as soon as tomorrow."

"Five thousand orc warriors… five thousand of them!!"

Cedric was utterly aghast.

As recently as last year, several Expert-ranked knights had to sacrifice their lives just to fight off several hundred orcs.

Of course, Winterwald's military strength was far greater than last year's.

But it was easy to foresee that there would be heavy losses this time as well.

"Your Highness! We must immediately send a messenger to the capital and request large-scale support from the Imperial Knights! We should also move the residents outside the new city into the safe shelters inside it and prepare for a fight to the death!"

He was suggesting that they gather everyone inside the steelwood buildings and hold out under siege.

Of course, if the Northern Defense Force were defeated, doing so might allow them to hold out until Imperial reinforcements arrived.

But Kylan had no intention of losing, nor did he think the Imperial family would send reinforcements.

The emperor was the sort of man who had sold his precious daughter to the North because even providing food aid was too burdensome.

Taking Kylan's silence the wrong way, Guild Master Walter spoke up, his neck bulging with veins.

"I will immediately issue the highest-level emergency mobilization order to the Adventurer's Guild. We must protect the city we built with our own blood and sweat!"

Kylan quietly nodded as though in agreement.

The adventurers, many of whom were Northern residents, would also be a great help.

The number and quality of the knights were improving by the day as well.

The fortress-like ramparts would not be easy to breach.

The King of the North was not worried about defeat.

If there was one thing that concerned him, it was…

"Not only the Red Fang Tribe, but the Green Mage Tower Master has also volunteered to join the battle. We will definitely win. However… make sure this order is delivered to every guild and knight order without fail!!"

Kylan leaned forward and glared at his vassals with a razor-sharp gaze.

"Do not kill the orcs in this battle unless absolutely necessary."

"……Yes?"

"Use poison, break their legs, or do whatever you must. Incapacitate and capture them alive. I promise that the Grand Ducal Castle will pay anyone who captures an orc a reward equal to ten times the value of its magic stone."

The conference room erupted at Kylan's bombshell announcement.

Meanwhile, Kylan was making a huge racket inside for an entirely different reason from his vassals.

'Hahaha! Five thousand! There are five thousand orc warriors! Workers are voluntarily walking straight into my hands!'

It would not be an exaggeration to say that one orc's labor was equivalent to that of three Northern adult men or ten ordinary adult men.

Just imagine putting five thousand of them to work at construction sites in their work clothes.

They could not only build massive second and third lines of defense around the territory, but also speed up the construction of the city!

Once they had some labor to spare, it would not be a bad idea to start working on the water and sewage systems as well.

'Hygiene is already a serious problem. Once we get through this war, I'll have to solve that first. What if my beautiful wife steps in poop while walking down the street?!'

Water magic stones were pouring into Winterwald in such quantities that they had become a nuisance.

Thanks to them, dirty water could be purified using nothing but water magic stones, without modern chemicals or complicated separation processes.

The only thing remaining was the labor needed to dig channels and install steelwood pipes.

That sturdy workforce was voluntarily heading south right now.

Killing orcs and mining their magic stones was the lowest of the low.

A true master of capitalism knew how to keep them alive and work them until their bones were ground to dust.

"Kurrk……! Sob……! Waaah……!"

It happened suddenly.

Inside the crystal ball, Krok's shoulders were trembling.

All the vassals turned their eyes toward the orc at his sudden tears.

Tears were dripping from Krok's enormous eyes.

"Your Highness would risk his life to save us…… us ignorant and foolish orcs……!"

Krok dropped to his knees and prostrated himself.

"I, Krok! I will give my life for His Highness the Grand Duke and Winterwald! Even if this body is torn apart, I will stand at the very front of Winterwald and stop Tarkan's army!!"

"Woooooo!!"

As Krok and the orcs' heartfelt cries echoed through the conference room, Cedric's eyes also grew moist.

"My lord…… This old servant finally feels that he can begin to grasp your intentions, however faintly……!"

Cedric quietly gazed at the kneeling Krok reflected in the crystal ball.

When he had first encountered Krok, he had never dreamed that he would stand on the same side as this enormous orc and discuss a common enemy.

But what about now?

Orcs and humans.

Weren't they working up a sweat together, sharing drinks, and putting their heads together to protect the same territory beneath the same sky?

Then…….

Could those five thousand orcs now marching south also, someday……?

'Ah…… My lord, you had already seen that far ahead……!'

The knights and administrators were moved by the sight of Cedric and Krok, and all began sniffling.

The orcs of Winterwald were no longer monsters to them.

They worked together, fought together, and spoke with one another.

Sometimes they cried together, and sometimes they laughed together.

They were Winterwald's neighbors and comrades-in-arms.

"We will carry out our lord's command!!"

"Capture them alive!! Beat them until they come to their senses and turn them into citizens of Winterwald!!"

Orcs, knights, and adventurers alike.

If Kylan had ordered them to wipe out every last one of them, their morale would never have risen this high.

The monstrous Grand Duke's obsession with cheap labor was once again about to bring great change to Winterwald.

***

That evening.

A quiet back alley in Winterwald's new city.

"Munch…… Chew, chew. Heh heh. As expected, Uncle Palm's meat pies are the best."

Krok was happily taking a huge bite out of a meat pie as large as his own face.

Flap flap!

A red blur flew through the darkness and alighted on Krok's shoulder.

A red-eyed crow radiating a sinister aura.

It was the familiar of the shaman Gur.

[Krok…… How are things?]

Gur's eerie voice flowed from the crow's beak.

Krok tucked the meat pie he was holding in one hand behind his back, lowered his voice, and deliberately put on a serious

expression.

"Kurrk……! I've been waiting for you, Gur. The humans are in complete chaos right now. They're trembling and wetting themselves at the rumor that Great Chieftain Tarkan has united all the tribes."

[Heh heh heh…… What is that arrogant Sword Master doing?]

"That guy? Kurrk! He's been holed up in his castle for ages. The knight bastards are only thinking about packing their things and running away."

Krok recalled Kylan's relaxed expression and desperately held back his laughter.

"Tell the Great Chieftain! Have him advance before the humans flee! Tomorrow night, I'll open the castle gate myself!"

[Excellent, Krok! The Great Chieftain thinks very highly of your service!]

The crow flew up into the night sky, leaving behind an unpleasant laugh.

Once Gur's presence had completely faded, an evil smile spread across Krok's lips.

"Stupid bastards. Heh heh heh!"

Krok took another large bite of the meat pie he had hidden behind his back, then pulled a sheet of parchment from the inner pocket of his work clothes and stroked it fondly.

[Winterwald Orc City Housing Subscription Certificate]

It was the certificate bearing two Well Done! stamps from Her Highness Grand Duchess Eleanor.

'Heh heh! Whether there are five thousand or six thousand of them, you're already too late, even if you come now. The houses closest to the new city belong to our Red Fang Tribe!'

The laughter of the orc steeped in capitalism echoed through the back alley behind the shopping district for some time.

***

At the same time.

A massive cave deep in the Northern Mountains.

"Hahahahaha! No matter how sturdy the ramparts become, human weakness is ultimately unavoidable!"

Having heard Gur's report, Great Chieftain Tarkan rose from his throne and burst into a mad laugh.

"So they're hiding inside the castle like frightened rats……? They said he was an impressive fellow, so I had high hopes. How disappointing!"

Tarkan held out his hand.

The Black Dragon's bone axe, which had been wrapped in black leather, trembled and flew into his hand.

The entire cave shook violently beneath the dense demonic energy radiating from the axe blade.

Tarkan led his trusted subordinates out of the cave and shouted loudly.

"Brothers, listen!!"

At Tarkan's roar, the orc army raised its weapons in unison and cheered.

"The tedious life of gnawing on monster meat is over. Wipe out the weak humans and seize their food!! Krok of the Red Fang Tribe will open the castle gate for us!!"

"Kwooooo!!"

"Kurrk…! Meat! Meat!"

"Filthy monster meat…! It's over now!?"

"Kurrk…! I, Karak, will lead the vanguard! Dual-Axe Tribe, follow me!!"

The orc army finally began its march.

***

Karak, chieftain of the Dual-Axe Tribe and leader of the vanguard, marched south toward Winterwald through the harsh blizzard with one thousand elite orcs.

How long had they been traveling?

The snowfield stretching across their entire field of vision disappeared, and a dark forest emerged.

"Kurrk……! The air in the South really is different."

Karak sniffed, taking a deep breath of the forest air.

Unlike the Northern Mountains, where nothing but snow fell, grass and trees…… signs of life were everywhere.

"Grass and trees…! So many…! Kurrk…!"

"Kurrk…! Such good land…! This is a first!"

"Humans are arrogant…! Now it's our land!"

The orcs drooled as they reveled in delight.

The vanguard led by Karak consisted entirely of the most brutish orcs, who prized strength above all else.

They had survived by battling ferocious monsters to the death in a harsh environment.

A forest teeming with life and packed with enormous trees was an utterly unfamiliar environment to Karak.

"Kurrk……! There are too many trees, and they're too big. They block my view. They're in the way."

Karak frowned as he carried his dual axes over his shoulders.

Crossing this forest was the fastest route to Winterwald.

"Those human bastards are cowards! Kurrk…! They might be hiding in the forest…! Watch your surroundings!"

At Karak's command, the one thousand orcs stepped into the forest, tense and alert.

Crunch. Rustle.

The sound of the orcs trampling grass was all that continued to echo.

Other than that…… there was not a single sign of anything.

Strangely enough.

The dark forest, where not even a breeze was blowing, was silently swallowing the one-thousand-strong army.