The Good Orc

I pulled out the map I kept tucked away and tried to figure out my current location.

When I roughly estimated the radius by gauging the patrol ranges of not only the gate city but also the other nearby towns, there were plenty of empty spots. It was impossible to monitor the entire territory of the kingdom, so that was only natural. Within that, what I needed to pay attention to was 'what existed in those intermittently vacant border zones.'

Honestly, it wasn't easy. The map was a cheap low-quality one for adventurers to begin with, so no matter how much I'd periodically paid small sums to the guild to update and add new information, it was bound to be wildly off when I tried to grasp such specific geography.

"Well, I'm asking too much of a map that's fundamentally imprecise in both baseline scale and accuracy."

Detailed maps were deliberately kept imprecise because their leakage to foreign nations could cause disastrous consequences, but even taking that into account, this map was garbage. In the end, it took a bit of time to examine it while arbitrarily fudging significant portions, but I achieved my objective.

And I was certain. No matter how I looked at it, there was nothing that could account for orcs suddenly appearing in such numbers.

"Did the Demonfolk bastards pull some gate bullshit again somewhere? That can't be right."

The direction indicated by the information I'd gathered from immediately surveying the surroundings was far too clear. The region where orcs primarily inhabit was much further east. At least two more cities and five villages lay between here and there, and orcs of this scale couldn't have passed through them with open eyes.

And if they ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had attacked, word would have already traveled and subjugation forces would have mobilized.

There was no room for doubt that a large number of orcs, whether they'd sprouted from the ground or fallen from the sky, had suddenly appeared from somewhere and were hastily forming a settlement. And the likelihood was high that this was a massively abrupt event not only for me but even for those bastards themselves.

The palisade itself was patchy because they'd just chopped down whatever trees were nearby and hammered them in, and the orcs I'd encountered on the way had been frantically examining this and that, not even properly knowing what was in their surroundings. On top of that, when I'd hidden myself inconspicuously and peered over the flimsy palisade into the settlement, not a single building could be called properly constructed, and I'd heard no small amount of fighting among themselves.

Unstable. Once that conviction took hold, a greed to dig deeper flickered up. As if by spinal reflex, the thought popped up and I let out an involuntary dry laugh.

"Who's the warrior race here, seriously..."

Thoughts kept welling up—how far could I go in a state where I couldn't be fully prepared, how adeptly could I handle a sudden situation? Even knowing that the mistakes and errors that arose in that process could directly lead to death, I couldn't easily let go.

Because my goal was obviously stronger than all of that combined. As if there weren't any time to hesitate here, it felt like a corner of my mind kept urgently pressing me on.

But I didn't let myself be swept along by it.

"It's mental illness, mental illness."

Instead I lightly tapped my cheek and shook my head to steady my heart, then rose from my spot.

If this were back when I'd completed my original plan from childhood—learned everything there was to learn from Asilie and we'd each gone our separate ways—I would've charged straight in and tested how many necks I could claim. I'd have figured out the rest afterward. But now, the number of people who'd smash my back the moment I took such an action was hardly just one or two.

"Laika, do you have a handle on the orcs' scent?"

[Yeah! I think I've got it now! It reeks!]

I giggled at Laika's reply, delivered with a scrunched-up nose, and stroked the little dog's head. Even that alone gave me the illusion that the impatience which had been poking its head out was being pushed back.

"Then let's steer clear of them and head back now. Got a lot to do."

They might have been unstable, but I'd already sliced up Demonfolk bastards a few times and even sliced up a demon—what was there to be impatient about? I didn't want to create a situation where my back would be wrecked with nothing to show for it, so I hurried toward the village.

The return trip required a much longer detour than before because the snowfall gradually thinned and visibility began clearing.

Whether I really had advanced far ahead of others when I first moved with Asilie, it was only when I'd circled back about halfway while evading the orcs that I finally encountered one of the search teams that was pressing forward.

"Huh? Eldmia? Why are you coming from that direction?"

The guy from Ogwen who'd lost his arm was apparently searching with remarkable diligence, because even on this cold winter day steam was rising steadily above his head.

Did I actually possess some mysterious power that could turn a rotten human into someone usable?

"I discovered orcs and I'm on my way back. Have you run into any other search teams nearby?"

"Uh... we briefly crossed paths about ten or so minutes ago."

Even at my sudden question, he was merely flustered for a moment before answering properly—he was a red-rank indeed. Looked like he'd been living damned diligently for those two-some-odd years.

"Do you know which way they went?"

"Tsk, I'm not sure about that. We just glimpsed each other at the far right edge, so we each just moved to widen the distance enough that we wouldn't see one another. Is something the matter?"

"The orcs' scale is bigger than expected. We all need to return and reexamine the plan. For now, you head back to the village as you are. I'll go find them."

If it had been the left side, they'd be moving away from the orc settlement, but why the hell did it have to be the right? I needed to move with a bit more urgency.

At my order to go back, the yellow and blue ranks' faces lit up, but the one-armed guy, who'd grasped the situation as befitting his red rank, approached me and quietly asked.

"Is it serious?"

"From your perspective, it's serious, yes."

Truthfully, even from my perspective it wasn't exactly optimistic. Simply killing orcs versus fighting while protecting the village from harm were entirely separate problems. Sure, if the orcs just kept to guerrilla warfare in the forest I could leisurely wipe them all out in about a week, but those brainless bastards, the moment that kind of stimulus hit, were the type to pillage the village and run ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠all the way to the gate city and beyond.

Thinking 'The forest is dangerous now so let's go hide in that sturdy city the humans built!' How they'd actually get into that sturdy city would be a problem for later, I supposed.

"Once you gather in the village, make sure to hammer it into them—no thinking about anything else, just rest by the fire. If we're unlucky, there'll come a situation where resting is your mission too."

I couldn't confirm whether he properly understood my words, but the guy nodded without a single complaint and led the adventurers back in a hurry. By the time their figures had shrunk to the size of a pinky finger, I was injecting additional Magic Power into Laika and speaking.

"I've got to run that way and find people. You get what I'm saying?"

[I'll come back if I find people or think I've gone too far, and if there's a fight, I'll bark! You whistle, boss!]

A puppy that immediately understood and acted like a laptop switching to full specs when the charger's connected—damn, I was lucky. And Laika, understanding that even a reply wasn't needed, simply turned and bolted at a speed no ordinary dog could ever produce.

I too started running through the forest, picking up the pace a bit this time. When I'd been circling back to avoid orc scouts, I'd been inwardly grumbling that the snowfall had died down too fast, but now it was ironic that I could only think how fortunate it was that it had died down.

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was frantically busy—identifying terrain features in the rapidly passing scenery while running, searching for people—but it beat letting laziness lead to a situation where orc scouts and adventurers collided, so I ran hard.

But despite that effort, it was Laika who found the adventurers first.

-Woof! Woof!

"Fuck."

And of course, they were in the middle of a fight.

I genuinely wanted to ask what the hell you had to do to get caught by even those moronic orc scouts, unable to evade them, and end up brawling. So, for the survival of the people who'd answer my question, I turned toward the source of the sound. The forest made the sound echo, but since I'd been moving while tracking the direction Laika had gone, the distance began closing in an instant.

Like that, after not much more running, I discovered the adventurers through the sparse branches, fighting the orcs while spewing rough curses and shouts.

"You fucking monster bastards!! Just die a little!"

The battle between three orcs and red, blue, and yellow-ranked adventurers was truly nothing but disadvantageous. The yellow rank couldn't fight orcs in the first place, so they could do nothing but tremble at the rear. In terms of pure muscle strength alone, orcs rivaled even aura-clad warriors, so maybe that was the wiser choice after all.

As a result, the red-ranked adventurer was practically holding off two orcs alone while enduring, and the blue rank was likewise struggling to tie down one orc.

"Squeak! Ik! Ik! Weak! This is boring fight!"

"Boring fight! Tasty meal!"

Thanks to that, the orcs, confident in their victory, were taunting the adventurers in common tongue with their half-assed pronunciation, carrying on a fight utterly devoid of tension. It was honestly embarrassing for the adventurers being toyed with by those bastards, but I found the fact that those idiots had learned human common tongue for the purpose of taunting so astonishing I momentarily stopped in my tracks.

I'd heard that only orcs from long-maintained settlements who'd fought humans for ages pulled that kind of crap. Sure enough, these bastards were different from the orcs around this area.

-Fweeeeeet!

I decided to set my astonishment aside for a moment, and since their swaggering arrogance was truly so pathetic, I targeted the nearest one's head and launched a needle. Even though I'd clearly reduced the output far more than usual when firing it, I still felt a sharp strain.

I hadn't even fired it with the intention of boring a wind-hole through the orc's head—it was launched as a check—and it felt like this. It seemed I'd have to restrain my needle use when I wasn't in good condition.

"Squeeeak!!"

"Kwiik?!"

It was a somewhat uneasy start, but fortunately the needle cleanly lodged into the orc bastard's left eye. Given the structure of their heads, it might've pierced straight through both eyes in one go, but my power was apparently weak—I could see it clutching only one eye. Their bone structure was sturdy, as expected of monsters.

"Kwiik! Human! Another human!"

Their appearance was truly threatening. A boar that was about my height yet looked sturdy even in its protruding gut.

Just standing still, it was a visual you didn't much want to face, and now that it was enraged ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that its comrade had been wounded by a 'cowardly' projectile attack, it showed a demeanor I wanted to deal with even less.

The one that had been attacking the red-ranked adventurer together with its buddy now bloodshot both eyes and, brandishing its axe upside-down, started charging toward me.

"Coward human! Torment comrade! Strong orc Kakula Basha kill!"

The ground-shaking weight of that massive body was palpable through the soles of my feet—in front, behind, above, below—yet what I actually felt was pure disbelief.

Having comradely spirit was fine, but the image of it charging while cleanly ignoring its comrade, who'd been clutching its face like a crossbow target and writhing in pain, now being defenselessly stabbed over and over by the red-ranked adventurer it had been facing—it was no different from a slap comedy.

"Squeeeak! It, it hurts!"

"Kwiik! I am Kakula Basha!!"

Well... to an orc whose eyes had already rolled back, that kind of thing apparently wasn't a very important issue.

"They're truly blockheads beyond all comprehension."

Still, I'd held a sliver of expectation since it was going "kwiik" in its own language but even spoke a bit—but an orc was an orc. Feeling a strange displeasure toward the orc charging at me with its intense self-promotion, I drew my sword.

It was time to make three good orcs, which hadn't been part of the plan.