Chapter 110
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 110
Chapter Title: Proper Rule (4)
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Ruling the Lucadian Empire, Astragon had already sent pleas for aid in all directions before succumbing to the ants swarming from above and below.
The other factions had no real choice in the matter.
If the ants seized control of the land and exterminated everyone living upon it, they would lose their secured territories and subordinates.
And so, the elves advanced from the south, while the Orc Kingdom and the Dwarf Federation pushed forward separately from the west.
"Draw your swords. The time has finally come to reclaim our homeland from those demons!"
Orc King Gorjan drew his blade and declared vengeance.
The Orc Kingdom consisted of those who had been driven from their ancestral great plains by the ants.
Even after abandoning their foundations and fleeing, their combat prowess had only grown stronger.
With that formidable might, they forcibly annexed the inhabitants of the western plains, enslaving them to prepare for war and sharpen their blades.
Through the sacrifice and exploitation of countless slaves, the orcs rapidly assembled their war machine.
They forged new weapons and armor, conscripted soldiers.
Thanks to the intervention power swiftly secured, Urmark could produce even more heroes. These newly born heroes grew into powerhouses beyond the reach of ordinary folk, leading units and further solidifying orc dominance.
'We orcs fully mature physically in at most ten years, and mentally by fifteen. If only we had more time...'
Gorjan, overlooking his vastly strengthened orc legions from what had once been a human kingdom's royal castle, smiled faintly.
They weren't fixated solely on the present.
Gazing toward the next ten, twenty years—or even beyond—they were convinced that orcs were the true rulers destined to dominate this world.
The orcs' reproductive prowess, capable of impregnating females of other races, was formidable.
Already, countless orcs were being born and raised across the land. In just one generation, their numbers would multiply several fold.
Of course, this came at the cost of tremendous sacrifices right now.
The residents of lands conquered by orcs could no longer live ordinary lives. Simply for the crime of defeat, they had to surrender everything.
Those with strength were dragged off as slave soldiers, women handed over as breeding stock to mighty warriors, and any accumulated heritage or artifacts ruthlessly destroyed or melted down in forges to fuel the orcs' war engines and resources.
This approach to exploitation in conquered territories differed vastly from that of the elves.
Unlike the elves, who built foundations meticulously to rule indefinitely, to the orcs, other races were mere expendable consumables for the present moment.
"Your Majesty, another group of fugitives from the northern border seems to have defected to the dwarves' territory!"
"Damn it, those filthy runts dare..."
Yet, amid their post-migration conquests of terror and tyranny elevating them to regional overlords, the orcs had one rival: the Dwarf Federation, centered on the great mountain range and steadily absorbing surrounding forces.
Likewise blessed by a deity, the dwarves had rapidly advanced, shedding their notorious isolationism to emerge from the mountains. They were no easy foes.
Gorjan furrowed his brow upon hearing that yet another band of escapees had slipped through surveillance and pursuit into dwarf territory.
Though currently in a truce, the orcs and dwarves—who had begun carving up the land—recognized each other as future adversaries and rivals.
Losing valuable slave resources to the enemy was hardly welcome news.
"Fugitives ahead. And orc cavalry in pursuit behind them."
"Nothing we can do. We can't intervene until they cross the border."
In the dim night after sunset, they could only stamp their feet in frustration at the distant flickering lights and faint shouts carried on the wind.
'Hurry... faster!'
Ladan, a federation knight, lowered the dwarf-made emerald night-vision telescope that pierced even darkness and bit his lip.
Once a novice knight from the Scalen Duchy, now a full federation knight, Ladan was assigned to the border guard watching the orc frontier.
"Don't worry. At that speed, they won't get caught. We just punish the orcs if those excited brutes cross the line."
His urgent demeanor drew a scoff from his dwarf superior, Torban.
The orcs pursued swiftly, but the fugitives were desperate. They seemed poised to cross just barely in time.
"Everyone, stay calm! We'll hold off the orcs if they come!"
As the ragged fugitives scrambled across the border stream, Ladan spurred his horse forward with his men to meet them.
Instead of the sword at his waist, Ladan drew the weapon from his saddle, gripping it at the ready.
A gun: firing bullets via gunpowder, delivering concentrated physical force to slay foes swiftly.
Ladan carried a sword only because he was a knight by origin.
For ordinary soldiers, guns were the only way to counter the orcs' superior physicality.
"Graaak! Those are our escaped slaves!"
"But once they cross the border, their fate is ours to decide."
The orc cavalry, mounted on steppe wolves, snarled in rage at letting the slaves slip away right under their noses.
Their roiling killing intent, combined with their massive, ferocious builds, was intimidating enough to buckle the knees of the faint-hearted.
But Ladan, responding calmly, was accustomed to it by now.
The rookie who once froze at the sight of orcs and ants had gained vast experience in short order, maturing into a seasoned knight.
"If you cross this line, the Orc Kingdom will be seen as declaring war on the Federation."
"Filthy human, got a mouth on you...! Bowing and scraping to those stunted runts as their lapdogs—does it please you that much? No warrior's pride!"
"Better than you lot, at least."
No matter how the orcs provoked, Ladan didn't flinch.
Aware that even half-baked warriors lacking proper aura cladding could suffer fatal wounds from gunfire, the orcs could only hurl insults before turning away.
"Well done. Those mindless beasts can only bark in the end."
As the orcs departed, Torban—who had foisted the matter on Ladan out of reluctance—approached with a smirk.
Dwarves viewed the savage, combative brown-skinned steppe orcs as lesser beings, barely more than beasts.
"What do we do with these ones?"
"What else? Handle them as usual. Take 'em back to your lands."
When Ladan glanced at the hundred-odd wary fugitives, Torban shrugged with utter indifference.
'Most dwarves are like this.'
Ladan gave a wry smile at his superior's attitude.
Without internal revolution, devoutly following a deity called the Earth God, the dwarves—unlike orcs or elves—expanded without much regard for other races or powers.
They had ventured beyond the great mountains, yet retained their clannish exclusivity and rejection of direct rule, forming only a loose federation.
This trait held for individuals too: gruff and distant unless personally bonded.
It had taken Ladan time to earn Torban's respect.
But enemies abounded now—from orcs to the ants in the east.
All factions in the Dwarf Federation were committed; allying with dwarves for protection and modern innovations was essential for survival.
"Be glad you're just guarding the border. Scout into the vanguard, and you'd be heading east to fight those mad monsters."
"Bellonahard... From the rumors, the ones on the plains are mere drops in the bucket compared to those devouring the far eastern lands."
"Can't even imagine it. Those creepy bastards swarming by the tens of thousands... hundreds of thousands, millions?"
They clicked their tongues, staring into the murky east.
Orcs were brutal foes, but the reason they avoided all-out war now was simple.
Bellona's nomadic horde rampaged whenever either side moved prematurely.
Thus, neither had committed fully to attacking the horde simultaneously.
Moving alone risked collapsing the balance.
"Is there no way to aid the nomadic horde? Just pumping in more magic stones doesn't seem enough."
Despite mutual suspicion among factions with differing systems, regimes, and arms, they all targeted the ants—the common enemy for now.
Watching Bellona get pushed back helplessly filled their master, Jin-hyuk, with frustration and worry.
Moreover, he couldn't solve this alone.
Thus, he issued a divine oracle to Seira, seeking her counsel.
"With the Orc Kingdom pressing from the southwest and the dwarves from the northwest, it's no wonder the two great queens are struggling."
Seira nodded awkwardly upon receiving Jin-hyuk's oracle.
In truth, merely holding the line evenly against such forces was a miracle.
She was single-handedly withstanding a pincer attack from veteran deities' lavishly resourced powers.
But ants, by nature, couldn't ally or cooperate with anyone.
Even if Jin-hyuk shed his outer god misunderstanding and appeared in the community, it wouldn't change. He never wanted that anyway.
Deity gatherings were, at core, no different from cutthroat politics rife with schemes and posturing.
'We're strong. No need to grovel and share the spoils.'
He trusted the ants—the power and growth they'd demonstrated.
And the ants had always repaid that faith.
"...We could seek cooperation from the humans left in the empire."
'Humans?'
Seira hesitated deeply, conflicted, before finally speaking.
Jin-hyuk's eyes widened the moment he heard her prayer.
It was something even he hadn't considered.
"By Your great mercy, nearly a hundred million Lucadian imperial citizens were spared from the clutches of that wicked deity and received Your grace. They have a duty to repay that kindness."
Once she started, Seira laid out her thoughts fully.
Jin-hyuk listened gravely, pondering.
The old him wouldn't have agonized so deeply.
'Would this help the ants? For the ants' sake, their benefit?'
He prioritized the ants over fellow humans.
Only natural—he was their loyal master's owner.
"However, the Lucadian Empire is in dire straits. Countless starve on the brink. If You aid them... surely they would lend their strength."
Seira had her own calculations.
To borrow human might, they first needed aid.
Nearly half the territory lay in ruins, massive refugees displaced.
Emperor Karian, forced to clean up Astragon's exploitative aftermath, faced immense hardship.
The ant nests dotting the empire made him cautious, but rebellion could topple everything anytime.
strongly opposes, declaring we have no need for help from mere humans.
chimes in: What does it matter if it means victory?
One issue: Asmora, learning of Seira's plan, raged against allying with mere humans. Knowing Asmora's particular loathing for them, Seira appealed directly to Jin-hyuk.
"We'll try it."
After much deliberation, Jin-hyuk decided.
Bellona's opportunistic interjection swayed him decisively.
To win, what wouldn't they do? The blood of devoured foes already piled to the heavens.
is shocked.
'Humans... humans...!'
But the petty misunderstandings piled up as a bonus.
This decision was purely strategic for victory, transcending race—unlike before. Yet Asmora believed he still harbored inexplicable favoritism toward humans.
Jealousy as fierce as her greed boiled within.
And that jealousy festered into hatred, vowing to mercilessly kill if given the chance.
All of him belonged to her—to the ant horde. His gaze, attention, affection, rewards: all.
In truth, Asmora envied what she saw as his natural kinship with humans, blind to its innocence.