Baynen's Shameless Orc Saga
Baynen, who had been grinning ear to ear at the thought of becoming an imperial guest, quickly regained his composure and cleared his throat. Optimism could sometimes lead to ruin. Right now, he needed to calmly steer the conversation forward. 'Don't get excited.' Objectively speaking, they hadn't won the bet yet—they'd merely laid out the board. His opponent was none other than the empire's third princess, the military prodigy who commanded the imperial combat unit Dawn's Footsteps. One of the empire's shining stars, she held the power to toy with their lives on a whim.
Act rashly, and not only would there be no guest privileges—they'd lose everything they had. With his mind settled, Baynen glanced around at the onlookers and addressed Benelia.
"Your Highness. If I may be so bold, could I use some crude language just while talking about the orc chieftain? I'll tone it down as much as possible, but there are limits."
To discuss obscenities, indecent words were essential. But would Princess Benelia accept that? This was the unprecedented hurdle to overcoming the impasse. The imperial knights clenched their fists at Baynen's impropriety, but Benelia didn't lose her intrigued smile.
"As long as it's not excessively vulgar, I'll understand and overlook it. Speak freely."
"Understood. Then allow me to explain the full story."
How had he ended up spending a night with an orc chieftain? Clearing his throat, Baynen dove into his tale with fervor. In his youth, he'd foolishly taken an orc subjugation request, gotten captured, and—desperate not to die—had propositioned the chieftain for sex.
By that point, Benelia was utterly engrossed, listening intently. Even Roilen, not to mention the imperial knights standing by, got swept up in Baynen's captivating rhetoric.
"...But once I entered the chieftain's hut, worry hit me like a ton of bricks. Think about it—orks are bigger than us humans by default, right? So if my equipment was this small..."
Baynen held up his pinky finger.
"...then for an ork to be satisfied, it'd need to be about..."
He scrunched his face comically and extended his index finger.
"...this size. As humiliating as it is, that's just how it is. Racial differences. ...And to reiterate, it's the racial difference. Not that mine is small, absolutely not?"
A few knights couldn't hold back their laughter, shoulders shaking. Benelia's lips twitched upward ever so slightly as she watched him.
"But what are humans, if not clever creatures who use tools? That's when I thought of a mage's wand."
"A wand?"
"Yes. Begging your pardon, but I tied a mage's wand to my manhood with rope. By channeling mana through my body to enhance rigidity, it was possible."
"And what happened?"
"What could I do? I just thrust desperately. The wand's length reached the chieftain's depths, and she loved it. But the problem was, those lusty moans didn't last. The chieftain wasn't satisfied with just pounding."
Baynen furrowed his brow seriously, as if reliving the hut's events.
"Chills ran down my spine. Oh no... this is bad. If I couldn't find another way, I'd die right there. While thrusting into the ork and racking my brain, I suddenly had an idea and started punching her lower belly randomly."
"Pfft. You punched her?"
"Yes. Orks are inherently violent, so I figured the chieftain would like rough play. Luckily, she did. She bared her tusks and yelled something—sounded like she wanted more."
"It's getting better by the minute."
"You're not shocked yet—there's still one more."
Like a seasoned storyteller, Baynen paused for breath and clicked his tongue.
"In the midst of my survival sex battle with the orc chieftain, I realized to finish, I needed to climax. But I doubted a massive ork would be satisfied with my load. And I wasn't exactly thrilled about ejaculating deep inside an ork's cave either. So..."
Baynen trailed off. Fidgeting under the stares, he leaned in and whispered.
"Could I borrow your ear? Even for me, this part was pretty embarrassing."
"What could it be? Come closer and tell me."
"Yes, understood."
With permission, Baynen stepped forward and whispered the conclusion into Benelia's ear. He pulled back, and Benelia's eyes widened in utter disbelief at what she'd heard.
"What the...?"
It was ridiculous in every way. Her incredulous sigh turned into laughter.
"Hahaha! HAHAHAHA!"
Benelia clutched her stomach, bursting into genuine mirth. Roilen was stunned—pure laughter, not mockery, from her lips was a rare sight indeed. Wiping tears from her eyes, she straightened up.
Baynen, beaming with pride, smiled leisurely.
"Did the story please you?"
"Oh, more than please—it delighted me. I've met plenty of madmen in my life, but none compare to you. If someone asked who the world's top lunatic is, I'd name you without hesitation."
"High praise indeed."
Baynen bowed lightly, and Benelia caught her breath, suppressing residual chuckles.
"Annoying. From now on, cover your face when you meet me. Just seeing your mug might make me smirk."
"Pardon? Your Highness...?"
"I'm joking. But rumors say you've been a mercenary for quite some time. If an orc tribe was rampaging in the mountains, it must've been well before the Orc Subjugation War."
"Precisely as you say."
"I see. Then, as a veteran mercenary, evaluate my swordsmanship. I know you watched the spar nearby."
Suddenly asked to critique her swordplay. Flattery or honesty? After a moment's thought, Baynen chose sincerity. A princess like her wouldn't appreciate bootlicking.
"In my view, Your Highness grips the hilt too tightly."
"Too tightly?"
"Yes. I understand your confidence in your strength and mana control, but against a foe with a big power gap, clashing blades could snap your wrist. Ligaments tear, stance crumbles—straight to death."
"Do you think I grip it that way out of ignorance?"
"Knowing and being mindful are worlds apart. If I may, when did you last change your pommel?"
"About a year ago."
"Yet there's no wear from it. You seem uninterested in stance adjustments via pommel. Probably because you've never faced a true equal—mana alone sufficed to crush foes."
"That's..."
Caught off guard, Benelia fell silent. Baynen continued methodically.
"Your Highness is a once-in-a-generation genius. Even a knight twice your age couldn't match you. But geniuses die young on the battlefield. Arrogance from their talent base undervalues survival."
"Die young, you say."
"Yes. I made a name as a mercenary not from overflowing talent, but because I fear death, respect enemies, and cherish survival. Your Highness needs to learn the ways of the weak."
Unpleasant to hear. Yet how intellectual it felt after so long. Smiling contentedly, Benelia turned to Roilen.
"Roilen."
"Yes? Ah, yes! Speak, Your Highness."
"From now on, Baynen is my guest. Treat him as an honored visitor during his stay at the palace."
"Your Highness...?"
Roilen gaped, but Benelia ignored him.
"Today sparks even more curiosity."
Her gaze on Baynen held a spark of anticipation.
"The man named Theorad who earned loyalty from a freak like you."
The next day, I stood in the mansion's courtyard, covering my face with both hands.
"I'm losing it..."
It had been two days already. Just two days until the elf demanded sex. Yet I still had no plan. No matter how I racked my brain, I couldn't grasp how to satisfy her.
Sighing deeply and rubbing my face, I looked up at the sky. Blissfully clear, oblivious to my turmoil.
'By the way...'
I'd had a strange dream last night, it seemed. Vaguely, I recalled comforting a crying woman, but her face, voice, even clothes escaped me. Like shrouded in thick fog, only hazy outlines remained. Not my first such dream, but the inexplicable déjà vu upon waking was unavoidable.
'What a weird dream.'
If I met her again in a dream, I'd ask who she was. Smacking my lips, I heard rustling nearby.
"Master..."
Turning, I saw the elf approaching with the woman who'd visited yesterday. But something was off...
'What's wrong with her?'
Her eyes were dull, lifeless. Yesterday she'd been spirited, voicing opinions boldly. Now she shuffled like an undead.
Staring in confusion, the woman tremblingly extended a paper with shaky hands. I eyed her suspiciously, taking it from a distance.
Unfolding it revealed scrawled, haphazard words scattered chaotically.
I'm sorry. I'll leave the mansion. Please let me go. I beg you.
'Did she do drugs or something?'
Shaking my head awkwardly, I cleared my throat.
"Hey. Petra, was it? Why leave the mansion all of a sudden?"
"Nngh..."
"Huh? Didn't catch that."
"Nngiiih...!"
She twitched, drool spilling. What the hell? Her condition was bizarre. Speechless, I turned to the elf after a pause. If someone broke overnight in this mansion, she'd be the cause.
Sure enough, the elf avoided my gaze, pretending innocence.
'No way...'
I didn't know her crime, but ruining her mind like this was excessive.
"Hey. Just take a deep breath first and..."
Pitying her, I gripped her shoulders—then she rolled her eyes back, convulsed, and threw up V-signs with both hands.
"Get lost!"
...I'm seriously going insane.