Chapter 54
Chapter 54
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Baidian Mountains (3)
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Four out of the six villages were nestled along the river that wound around the base of the mountain range. Ronan turned to Asel, who was shrinking back tensely, and opened his mouth.
"Fighting and killing are two entirely different things."
"Wh-what... do you mean by that?"
"A fight is a process to achieve a goal. War is the prime example. People pull that kind of nonsense usually to grab land or money, not to burn every inch of the enemy territory and bathe in the blood of prisoners."
"R-right?"
"But when killing itself is the goal, things change. It ends much faster and cleaner. Think about why King Varon VII was called the Blood Emperor."
Confusion spread across the three faces. It was an explanation so intellectual and straightforward that they could hardly believe it came from Ronan's mouth. Ronan took another long drag from his pipe and continued.
"Asel. Remember back when you dropped that mace on the goblin's face?"
"Th-that... yeah..."
Asel nodded tightly, lips pressed together. It was an experience he couldn't forget even if he tried. He could still vividly hear the sound of the Luna Goblin's skull shattering.
"What we're doing today is similar. Just on a slightly larger scale. You'll play a big role."
"A big role... for me?"
"You'll see when we do it. For now, let's go block the river."
"B-block the river?"
Asel tilted his head. Instead of answering, Ronan started striding forward. The other three exchanged bewildered glances, utterly dumbfounded.
No one could have predicted it at that point. That in just a few hours, they would ascend to the role of blood emperors for the orcs living in Baidian.
****
The orcs of the Rock Den Tribe noticed something was wrong just as dawn was breaking.
"Chwik! Chief! Something weird happened!"
An orc with a war hammer slung on its back burst into the chief's tent. Soon after, the chief, who had been sprawled sleeping among the females, sat up.
"...What is it, chwik."
"The river's gone, chwik! We need to fetch water, but we can't!"
"Chuk, the river's gone...?"
The chief furrowed his brow. He couldn't make sense of it.
"Speak clearly, chwik. Why has the river vanished?"
"Chuk! It's really gone! My brothers saw it too, chwik!"
"Chwiik! Enough!"
The chief hurled the hand axe from beside his bed. Crack! It spun through the air and embedded in the scout orc's forehead.
"Chuek...!"
"Idiot, chwik."
The scout orc's body toppled backward. As the chief tried to go back to sleep, a voice came from outside the tent.
"Chruk, Chief! Big trouble!"
"Hoo..."
Something was definitely happening. With a sigh, the chief threw on a bear pelt and stepped out. His tribesmen were gathered, chattering noisily.
"Chuk! The chief's here!"
"Why aren't you chopping wood? What are you doing here, chwik."
"Chuhik! The river's gone!"
Even the laborers who had been logging were babbling the same thing. The chief eventually gathered the tribe's warriors and headed to the riverbank—not so much preparing for the river actually being gone, but pondering how to punish the fools spouting nonsense.
But it didn't take long to realize their words were true.
"Chwik?"
The chief orc's eyes widened. Where the river should have been flowing was now just a wide, deep depression. The rocks on the riverbed were drying out under the morning sun.
"Chuk, chwik... What the hell is this! Chwik!"
"Chuk! The river really vanished!"
The orcs began to murmur. The water that should have reached their chests now barely wet their ankles.
The orcs walked trance-like into the middle of what had been the river. Fish that had lost their home floated belly-up, dying. As they looked around frantically...
"Chuk, where's that weird bird gone?! Chwik!"
"It definitely came this way, chwik!"
The forest on the opposite bank rustled, and a group of orcs burst out. Their bodies were covered in red handprint markings. The chief orc's eyes bulged.
"Chuhik? Fistblade Tribe?"
"...Chuk?"
It was the Fistblade Tribe, who had settled across the river. They were a tribe they'd clashed with often lately due to territorial expansion.
The answer was clear. The Rock Den chief gripped his axe and bellowed in rage.
"Chuk! Fistblade Tribe! It was you bastards!"
"Chwik! We've got the same grievance! Woke up and the river was gone, chwik!"
"Kuwaaak! Cowardly Fistblades stole our water! Kill them!"
The Rock Den orcs charged. The momentarily flustered Fistblade orcs roared and rushed forward as well. In the middle of the dried-up riverbed, the two groups clashed.
Roars and the clash of metal echoed through the mountains. Then, another group of orcs appeared from downstream.
"Chuaak? What are those guys?!"
This time, it was the Ironsand Tribe from the lower reaches. Their chief soon reached a similar conclusion as the others. As the Ironsand warriors joined the fray with clubs raised, orcs descended from upstream.
"Found 'em, chwik! River thieves!"
Before long, all four tribes were tangled in combat. Blood and roars sprayed with every swing of their savage weapons.
The liquid sloshing at their feet was starting to look more like blood than water. As the battle reached its peak...
The ground beneath the orcs began to vibrate faintly.
-Kugugugugu...
"Chwik?"
The Rock Den chief, sensing the anomaly, turned upstream. Now that he thought about it, he could hear some kind of noise. As his battle-narrowed vision widened, a nightmarish sight filled his eyes.
-Kwaaakwakwa!!
"Chwiiik?!"
A towering, raging torrent—unlike anything they'd seen—smashed through the trees by the bank and surged toward them. A few orcs who noticed screamed. They tried to flee, but the overexcited others stabbed spears and blades into their backs.
"Chuk!"
"Chuaak! I got the Rock Den chief!"
"Chruk! L-let go, you idiot!"
The rapids reached the orcs in seconds. The battle-blinded orcs finally realized their river hadn't been stolen.
Kwaaa! The river swallowed the orcs whole.
"Chuaaaak!"
"Glug...! Save...!"
Hundreds of orcs were swept away by the current. Half would probably die just on the way downstream. Watching from a nearby peak, Ronan nodded.
"No wonder Adeshan loved using it. Deadly effective."
The water attack was one of Adeshan's favorite strategies in his past life. It was after crushing a rebel force in Tuang with it that she truly made her name.
Setting fire to the forests around the villages would make it a perfect Adeshan-style tactic, but Ronan had no intention of going that far. No matter how much of a Saranter he was, he couldn't laugh at the sight of the mountains reduced to ashes.
"Good work, everyone. You saved sleep to build that dam well."
Ronan turned to the three stunned faces. Marya, who had been watching the carnage, parted her lips softly.
"This... is club activity?"
"Waha... hahaha..."
Braum let out an awkward laugh like someone with facial paralysis. Asel, who had suddenly become something like a war criminal overnight, stared blankly at the river now flowing again.
"I'm going to hell..."
The operation's MVP was undoubtedly Asel. He had stacked logs cut by Marya and Braum, along with nearby rocks, into a dam the night before. Thanks to Asel's telekinesis, they finished the groundwork in record time.
"Now, time to loot the empty houses. Marya, Braum. Follow me."
The unfortunate part was there was still work left. Ronan drew Ramancha and beckoned the two.
"Ha... we're really doing this."
"Yeah! Honestly, I'm tense."
Marya and Braum picked up their greatswords. Ronan gripped Asel's shoulder.
"You got this?"
"...I'll try."
"Good. Just think of it as closing your eyes and dropping the mace. Sita, you stay here with Asel."
"Pya!"
Sita, who had returned after luring the orcs, perched on Asel's head. Sita was a key player too. It would serve as solid backup while Asel did his job.
Ronan, Marya, and Braum headed to the nearest village. With the warriors gone, it was no exaggeration to say only workers remained.
Sure enough, they entered the Rock Den village without much resistance. Scanning the interior, Ronan muttered leisurely.
"Pretty quiet."
"Quiet? This?"
"By orc standards."
He meant it sincerely. There seemed to be only a few dozen at most—basically none.
A few producer orcs and goblin slaves they kept wandered around. Late to notice the intruders, the orcs shouted.
"Chwik?! H-humans?"
"Kuak! Kill them!"
The orcs gripped their tools and charged. Ronan swung Ramancha with light steps.
Slash. With each stroke, two heads hit the ground. The blade, infused with edge energy, sliced through orc hide like tofu. The slaughter flowed as smoothly as the river.
"Hup! Get aside!"
"Chwak!"
Braum showed the composure of a senior student. He blocked attacks beside Ronan, steadily felling them one by one.
Clang! Orcs staggered from Braum's greatsword blocks, only for Ronan to claim their necks. Losing over ten comrades, the orcs turned on Marya.
"Chuk, chwik! Those humans are strong!"
"Female! Chwik, target the female!"
"...Ha."
Marya gripped her sword hilt. She'd only ever fought people or magitech puppets—monsters were a first.
As trained. Muttering that, Marya swung her greatsword horizontally. Slash. An orc charging at her was bisected at the waist, spilling blood and guts. Marya's eyes widened.
"Wh-why does this cut so easily?!"
"I've told you over and over—you need to realize just how ridiculously strong you are."
"Graaak! Die!"
No time to process the killing. Marya swung again with disbelief. Whoosh! The brutal slash cleaved two oncoming orcs in half lengthwise.
"Chuhuek!"
"Chruk! Th-the female's strong too!"
The work of master smith Doron, a losing craftsman. Her greatsword, which grew heavier with infused mana, was already heavier than Braum's. Seeing Marya wield it, Braum smiled bitterly.
"Hahaha, is this the difference in talent...!"
"Aptitude difference. To me, you're suited for something other than greatswords, Braum."
"Eum?! You heard?!"
Braum flushed. Ronan asked him not to make that face since it soured his mood, then finished off the remaining orcs. At that moment, a massive whoosh cut through the air overhead.
-Whoosh!
Looking up, huge rocks and logs arced through the sky. They were boulders Asel had launched with telekinesis. The massive stones would crash onto the two unaffected villages.
"Hm. Doing well."
They flew with impressive force, dispelling his worries. Telling them not to think about the tragedy at impact points must have worked. Confirming no more orcs charged, Marya and Braum lowered their swords.
"Al-already over?"
"Feels anticlimactic...!"
"Thanks to you keeping up well. We've got five more to clear, so rest a bit. I'll handle cleanup."
Ronan headed to the village depths. Lifting the chief's tent flap revealed female orcs, younglings, and cowards who fled the fight.
"Chruk...! H-human...!"
No resistance from the unarmed orcs. They just stared at Ronan with fear-filled eyes.
Ronan slowly approached. Bones and clothes scraps caught underfoot—many human, most bearing clear teeth marks. Likely from merchant caravans passing the mountains or unlucky adventurers.
Yeah, that's how it is.
Muttering inwardly, Ronan drew his sword hilt.
****
"Tch."
Bloody Ronan spat on the ground. Cleanup finished quickly. Edge energy rose from the blood-soaked blade.
The Rock Den Tribe was utterly annihilated. Ronan rummaged through the tent for anything worth taking.
Not monsters like Luna Goblins that hoarded treasure, so he didn't expect much. His gaze suddenly landed on a lump by the chief's bed corner. A familiar shape.
"No way..."
Meaty clump exterior, gleaming golden eyes. It was unmistakably a Cuss Eye. Snatching it up, Ronan cursed.
"Fuck, this precious thing...!"
But half was missing. The orcs must have bitten into it and tossed it after it tasted bad. Ronan sighed deeply and discarded the corpse.
Fine, damn it. Means there's some living somewhere in the mountains, right?
Forcing positivity to stay sane. As he scanned hopefully for more...
"Ro-Ronan!!"
Marya's urgent shout came from outside.
"What?"
He rushed out, narrowing his brow. An elf woman lay between Marya and Braum.
"What's that?"
"Found her while searching tents. Saving her for later eating?"
"Damn, she alive?"
Marya nodded. The elf woman in a tunic was bound hand and foot with rope, breathing raggedly. Ronan frowned.
"Why didn't you untie her?"
"That's... no matter what we did, it wouldn't cut."
"What?"
Nonsense. Drawing Ramancha, Ronan slashed at the ropes on her wrists. Ting! It bounced off like striking ogre hide.
"Huh?"
Same result no matter how many tries. Ramancha, which shredded cave giants, was useless. Then the woman's lips parted faintly.
"It... won't work..."
"What, you're awake? What the hell did they do to you?"
"Ugh... uuu..."
A pained groan escaped her. No visible wounds, but probably internal injuries.
Ronan fed her an emergency potion. Soon after, her complexion improved, and she spoke.
"Hah... huff, thank you... I'll explain later... please take me with you...? Can't... undo it normally."
"Take you where?"
"Follow the mountains up... huff, there's a temple... there..."
Ronan's eyes widened. She was clearly referring to Sarante's temple. Then came the clincher.
"Pl-please... take me to... Lady Sarante..."