The Orcs' Branding Ritual
"..."
Randel opened his eyes. The room around him felt strangely familiar. It was just like the inn room in Roswell Village, the last place he'd stayed before leaving.
"Oh, you're awake?"
"You..."
The door swung open, and a girl's voice rang out. It was Annie, the kid who worked at the inn.
"Ah, no, you can't get up yet. The priest said you need to stay lying down."
Annie stopped him as he tried to sit up.
"Priest?"
"Yes, luckily there was a priest among the adventurers staying at the inn, and they healed you."
"...I see."
His body had indeed been a total wreck, but now it was mostly mended. Regular healing magic didn't restore stamina fully, though, so he wasn't back to peak condition yet. Just as Annie said, he needed more rest.
"Here, water."
"...Thanks."
Randel meekly drank the water she handed him. His head cleared a bit more afterward.
"But what happened? You were hurt so badly... And what about the others who went with you? Did monsters ambush you or something?"
"Monsters...?"
Annie's words jolted Randel's foggy mind, memories slowly resurfacing. The sudden horde of thousands of orcs. His dead comrades. And...
"Piria...!"
Randel remembered what he had to do.
"Ugh...! I have to go back...!"
"No way! Where do you think you're going in that state?"
"Get out of my way...!"
"Kyaa...!"
Clang!
As Randel forced himself up, Annie tried to stop him, and the tray she was holding crashed to the floor.
"Ah..."
"..."
Maybe it was the sharp crash, but Randel calmed down a fraction. Right. He needed to be cooler-headed than ever now. He couldn't do anything alone.
Randel spoke calmly but firmly.
"...Sorry, but fetch the village guard captain. It's an emergency."
"Ah... Y-yes, right away!"
Annie hurried out, startled by his suddenly changed demeanor.
"Piria... just hold on a little longer. I'll definitely..."
Randel bit his lip hard.
...
"..."
Piria opened her eyes, struck by an inexplicable sense of déjà vu. She distinctly remembered waking up just like this in a dark cave moments ago—or so it felt. Her body was bound, a gag in her mouth, even the nearby brazier was identical.
But a few things were different. Unlike before, she wasn't alone. Leaning against the wall, bound as she was, a dozen or so orcs encircled her in a semicircle.
Curiously, all the orcs bore fresh wounds, big and small—not old scars. Yet they grinned lewdly, eyeing her openly.
"Mmph..."
Only then did Piria realize she was naked. That was another difference from before.
Piria found no hope whatsoever.
She heard the orcs snickering. Unlike when Nerka was around, the mood was light and scattered. She suspected this was their true nature.
"Hey, who goes first?"
"Me, obviously. I got hurt the worst."
"Bullshit... That was just 'cause you're a moron."
They bickered over her like typical males, but they didn't see her as a person. To orcs—who lacked females of their own and could breed with any race— all females were mere seedbeds. That trait had nearly wiped them out after their ancient defeat by humans; no woman would willingly mate with them. If humans hadn't valued their labor, orcs might have gone extinct.
Instead, humans created the Slave Management Bureau to breed orcs with human sex slaves, maintaining their numbers. All orcs in the Empire today were born that way, brainwashed from birth to accept human slavery. Defying humans was unthinkable.
But the orcs who'd ambushed Randel's scouting party were different. Piria had no idea how they'd evaded the Empire to form a horde or why a mere slave orc like Nerka led them, but these ones clearly weren't the docile slaves she knew.
"Hey, deciding turns is fine, but we got something to do first."
"Oh right, forgot about that."
"Heh, never thought I'd live to see it."
"Yeah. I figured that was just ancient legend."
What were they talking about? What were they planning? Piria had no clue.
Though stripped bare, she felt no shame. Humans accustomed to orc slaves didn't see them as people—more like pets. No one blushes showing skin to a pet. Maybe that was her last shred of solace, easing her mind a bit.
"Guess I'll do it, since I made the tool myself."
One orc stood, smaller than the rest but with an air of age and experience. He approached her, then reached into the brazier beside her. A thin iron rod was stuck in the coals.
He gripped the handle and pulled it out.
"...!"
Piria's hazy eyes flew wide. The glowing red tip wasn't a simple line—it was a unique shape, clearly man-made. From her angle, she couldn't see it clearly, but it was a single-stroke symbol like a heart overlaid on a uterus—grotesque and obscene.
Worse, it came from the hot brazier. Piria's imagination went to the darkest place.
"Mmph!! Mmmph...!!"
As if her lifeless gaze had been a lie, she thrashed wildly. Bound only at arms and legs against the wall, she could still squirm some.
"Hmm... Can't stamp it properly like this."
"Need help?"
"Yeah, two. One hold the top, one the bottom."
At the iron-wielding orc's words, two others rose and approached. Piria's frenzy intensified.
"Mmph!! Mmmph!!"
"Suddenly full of energy, this girl."
"If only she had this much during breeding. Heh."
Despite her sobs, the two orcs pinned her body completely.
"Quit squirming or you'll hurt yourself somewhere unnecessary. Better stay still."
"Mmmph...!!"
Piria's face was a mess of tears and snot. Dignity as a human, duty to the Empire, feelings for Randel—none of it mattered now.
She had only one desperate wish in this moment.
"Wanna hear her last words?"
"What if she casts a spell?"
"Stuff her again if she tries. Boss said to report whatever she says before the ritual anyway."
The iron orc removed her gag.
"Nooooo!! Please, get that away from me, you orc bastards!! Mmmph!!"
"...Shouldn't have bothered."
The orc quickly gagged her again, shoulders hunched like his ears burned.
"Still no honorifics to the end—impressive in a few ways. Heh."
"Impressive my ass... Just pointless pride."
The orc readjusted his grip on the rod and murmured low.
"Here... we go."
"Mmmph...!! Mmph...!!"
As the rod neared her navel, Piria's struggles grew frantic. But she couldn't budge against orc strength.
The orc pinning her upper body snickered.
"Be happy. You're the glorious first orc seedbed revived in a thousand years. Heh heh."
...
Chloe was turning eighty this year—a young adult elf by her people's standards. Human-wise, she was barely in her early twenties, full of vigor. Elves lived four or five times longer than humans but matured at a similar pace. Still, they faced stricter standards to prove their worth.
Chloe's exceptional talent had earned her the role of scout for this cycle. Scouts were elves sent from their secluded forest enclaves to periodically spy on human society.
Elves naturally excelled in magic. Though young for an elf, Chloe rivaled Empire wizards decades her senior. Her illusion spells fooled humans effortlessly.
She'd disguised herself as an ordinary human woman, cloaked head to toe in a robe. She looked every bit the mercenary mage. Mercenaries and adventurers were perfect covers—previous scouts had blended in the same way.
Disguise didn't dull her elven hearing. Walking the main street of Imperial Town, Chloe caught a loud voice.
"What!? An elf!?"
"Aigoo, sir! Someone might hear! Shh...!"
The voice belonged to Minwoo. He'd overheard the man mention an elf at a slave auction and shouted in shock.
Chloe pretended to pass by, ears perked for their talk.
"Ahem... sorry. But is that true?"
"Sir, have you been fooled before? This is the real deal."
"Ha... I still can't believe it... An actual elf?"
"Of course, sir, I get your skepticism. Elves haven't shown themselves in over a thousand years—they're treated as legends. But! Mandren Trading Company is auctioning a genuine, 100% pureblood elf!"
"Whoa..."
Minwoo looked intrigued but didn't buy it wholesale. A little thought revealed the holes. If they'd truly captured a legendary elf unseen for a millennium, would they auction it publicly? The man called it exclusive and secret, but real VIP auctions wouldn't hawk to randoms like Minwoo.
Finding an elf would be a national bombshell. Treating it like mere slave stock? Laughable.
Still, Minwoo didn't call him out. No elf hopes, but curiosity about the slave market piqued him. He even tipped the man and confirmed he'd attend.
"..."
As Minwoo parted from the man, a robed figure trailed the tipster.