Chapter 36
#36. They Say Orcs Submit to the Strong
Swoooosh!!
Golden arrows rained down from atop the ramparts onto the orcs in the canyon.
The arrowheads, reinforced by Eleanor's magic, pierced even the thick hides of orcs hardened by eating monster meat.
How considerate of them.
The knights and adventurers atop the ramparts had refrained from inflicting any fatal wounds.
In Hans's case, the platinum-rank adventurer displayed godlike archery, making the arrowhead merely graze an orc's skin.
That alone was enough.
The adventurers' arrowheads were thickly coated with sleeping poison personally prepared by the Green Mage Tower Master.
"K-kurrk……?"
"M-my head…… It's spinning……."
Its effectiveness was unquestionable.
Even orcs whose immunity had reached absurd levels from eating filthy monster meat began yawning with their mouths stretched wide before collapsing in the presence of the Fairy's Yawnflower.
"K-kurrk……"
"Snoooore……"
The orcs dropped their axes, staggered, and sank to their knees.
"Hey! Kurrk. Stand up straight!"
"Kurrk…… I'm sleepy…… I want to sleep……."
They were completely trapped inside the narrow canyon.
There was no way to dodge the arrows.
Even so, the orcs ran this way and that, desperately trying to avoid them somehow.
But then.
Thud! Crack! Clatter!
The ground beneath the fleeing orcs suddenly collapsed.
It was a trap painstakingly dug by their own kind—the Red Fang Tribe, now reduced to Winterwald's porters.
"Kraaagh!?"
"Kurrk! I'm fallinggg!"
Trap pits dug here and there opened their mouths.
The orcs plummeted into the pits with panicked expressions.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
If they had prepared sharp spikes inside the pits, the outcome would have been decided.
But Winterwald had been exceptionally thorough—and kind—in this war.
There were no sharp rocks or weapons waiting inside the traps.
Rustle…… Rustle-rustle……
"K-kurrk!? What is this now?!"
Black vines and a huge red rose emerged from inside the pits.
The red rose slowly opened its mouth.
"Kieeeeeeek!!"
"A flo… A flower monster!!"
"K-kurrk!? A-are we…… going to be eaten!?"
Red-Tongued Veronica.
It was a carnivorous flower said to grow in a hidden region of the South.
However, the ones planted in the pits this time were cultivars improved through the Green Mage Tower Master's selective breeding.
Swish! Whirl!
Veronica whipped its vines like lashes and wrapped them tightly around the orcs' limbs.
Normally, it would have simply opened its mouth and consumed the meat.
But what it was consuming this time was not meat, but the orcs' magical power.
The orcs began collapsing from exhaustion one by one.
"Kurrk! It won't come off……!"
"How dare a mere weed……!"
No matter how fiercely the orcs swung their axes, the vines did not budge.
The plants grown using the Heart of Verdure were as hard as steelwood and as tough as slime.
Nothing short of aura could sever them.
Fwoooosh…….
Inside another pit, the Fairy's Yawnflowers released sleeping powder and put the orcs to sleep.
"Kurr…… kurrk……."
"My eyes……. My eyes……. They're closing……."
The orcs caught in the traps were being dealt with by the Tower Master's plants.
The lucky orcs who had avoided the traps were being incapacitated by the adventurers' arrows.
***
"……."
Tarkan watched the sight of the orcs being so thoroughly beaten with an impassive gaze.
The brothers who had followed him were falling to a single arrow or a single weed.
Could there be a more humiliating sight for an orc warrior?
Yet Tarkan did not grow angry.
He merely assessed the humans' level and made up his mind.
"Another trick."
Tarkan slowly lifted the Black Dragon's bone axe from his shoulder and adjusted his grip with both hands.
"Weak humans. Do you understand?"
Thud.
Tarkan planted one foot heavily.
That alone made the ground shake violently, causing the carefully concealed traps to sink into the ground.
He was headed toward the steel gate blocking the way into Winterwald.
The humans probably thought they had trapped him, but the idea was laughable.
Breaking this single thin gate would bring all their tricks to an end.
"Tricks only work when the two sides are on the same level."
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Black demonic energy poured from Tarkan's body like a storm.
The Black Dragon's bone axe trembled as it, too, spewed black mist.
"First, I'll show you the difference in our strength. Ruling over you comes after that."
To Tarkan himself, it was merely a light blow.
He had simply gathered his demonic energy—very lightly—and brought the axe down on the gate once.
Kwaaang!
Tarkan's axe slammed into the steelwood gate.
Kraaaaaack!
Huge cracks spread in every direction across the proud steel gate, which had withstood several orc invasions without suffering so much as a scratch.
Tarkan rested the axe on his shoulder and glared up at the ramparts.
"Kylan, was it!? Listen well, you leader of this place!"
His roar rang out over the ramparts and echoed throughout Winterwald.
"Great Chieftain Tarkan has come to cut off your head!! You know our orc customs well already, don't you!?"
Black demonic energy shimmered like a haze above Tarkan's shoulder.
"If you think you can make even this Tarkan submit by force, then come and try. But if you plan to hide behind your subordinates to protect that paltry life of yours, I'll make it clear that these little tricks are nowhere near enough."
"······."
The ramparts answered with silence.
Tarkan bared his fangs and sneered.
"You still don't seem to understand. I'll smash this door made of nothing but scraps of wood in a single blow!!"
He raised his axe again.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Far more potent demonic energy than before began gathering in his axe.
Tarkan planted one foot heavily in preparation for his second swing.
***
"……."
Kylan watched the entire scene through the crystal ball, frowning.
The door burst open, and Cedric rushed in with cold sweat running down his face.
"Y-Your Highness. A crack has appeared in the rampart. If we let him attack two or three more times at this rate……."
Cedric's voice trembled as he let the end of his sentence trail off.
There was no resident of Winterwald who did not know how hard steelwood reinforced with slime gel was.
That was why Cedric was trembling.
Kylan's fist trembled as well.
In one sense, it was for the same reason as Cedric.
In another sense, however, it was for an entirely different, thoroughly capitalist reason.
At this rate, the rampart we had worked so hard to build would be destroyed.
What kind of rampart was it, after all?
It was the result of Viscount Argen and his workers spending months building it while guzzling Eleanor's meat soup.
Just because the materials were scattered throughout the dungeon did not mean they were completely free.
There were transportation costs, labor costs, workers' meals……
The rampart had been built with gold coins that had flowed out of Winterwald's precious treasury.
And now, that rampart was on the verge of being smashed because of one stupid orc.
"……"
Kylan let out a deep sigh.
'As expected, the North still needs me. If the rampart is destroyed so pointlessly……'
Someday, Kylan planned to pass the title of Grand Duke on to the dependable son he and Eleanor would have.
He would put all the financial and defense-force systems on autopilot.
Then he would enjoy a leisurely retirement with Eleanor.
But with the knights and rampart this flimsy, what a nuisance.
The rampart was far sturdier than last year, and the forces defending Winterwald were growing as well, but the road to retirement still felt impossibly far away.
"Phew……."
Kylan slowly rose from his seat.
Of the two thousand orcs Tarkan had brought, nearly half were still moving about unharmed within and beyond the rampart.
The moment Tarkan destroyed the rampart, all those orcs would pour inside.
Even Winterwald's strengthened defense force would face a difficult battle.
'……If that happens, we won't be in a position to worry about capturing orcs anymore.'
A fierce battle would probably break out.
But Kylan had no intention of letting either Winterwald's precious soldiers or the orcs get hurt.
If so, there was only one way.
The fight to the death between the leaders the orcs admired so much.
All he had to do was accept it.
It was a magical way to turn the rampaging orcs into spectators without even giving them a bowl of popcorn.
Kylan rose from his seat.
Then he took Frost Fang from where it hung on the wall.
It would be cheaper to go down there himself.
"My lord! I, too, will fight, offering my life……!"
"....You just watch with the soldiers. This is a battle between leaders."
"My lord……! Sob…! To think you care so much about this old servant……!"
Leaving the blubbering Cedric behind,
Kylan slowly walked toward the ramparts.
His wife, Eleanor, naturally followed at his side.
By the time Kylan had climbed atop the rampart,
he was looking impassively down at the enormous orc holding his axe aloft in the canyon below.
'……They say orcs submit to the strong.'
His blue eyes shone coldly.
All right. Fine.
Tarkan.
I'll crush you,
and take the five thousand workers for myself.
***
Kraaaaaack!
The invincible rampart of Winterwald cracked.
It was just before Tarkan's third swing struck the rampart.
Thud.
Something heavy landed behind Tarkan.
A man who had leaped straight down from the ramparts.
A chill swirled around the man.
Tarkan stopped his axe and slowly turned his head.
Black hair and blue eyes.
The ruler of the North, whom the orcs had tried to smash to pieces time and again, only to kneel before him in the end.
The Empire's strongest Sword Master.
He knew instinctively.
This man was the leader of the humans.
The corners of Tarkan's mouth slowly lifted.
"……You finally came out."
Tarkan rested his axe on his shoulder and growled in satisfaction.
The human who had hidden atop the ramparts and relied only on petty tricks
had finally stepped directly before him.
"So you're the leader here?"
Kylan lightly raised Frost Fang in one hand.
A blue aura was already shimmering along its blade.
"Yes. I came out just as you wished."
Kylan spoke without emotion.
"Kylan Winterwald, Grand Duke of the North."