Chapter 174
Chapter 174
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 174
Chapter Title: Bold Challenge from the Baiman Orcs
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The Baiman Orcs' bold challenge letter soon became a hot potato among the knights.
"Shouldn't we go and put it down right now? Conquering the north would mean we've truly unified Brantia."
"Oh! I'm all for it. We've only been dealing with weaklings lately. My body's itching for a real fight. You get it, Swordmaster."
"No need to say more. Honorable and valiant knights recognize each other. It's Sir Galpredic, as expected."
Unsatisfied with just a spar against Eugene, Frabow and Galpredic—who had returned after smashing through weak territories that trembled at mere dozens of bandits—gave each other thumbs up.
While sorting out the territories, Galpredic's Brantia had improved to the level Eugene had upon first arrival. It seemed due to his sharpened mind as Origin's kin and frequent conversations with locals.
Moreover, Eugene, with his innate talent bolstered by enhanced language decryption abilities, had become nearly fluent in Brantia, indistinguishable from a native.
"Shouldn't we declare the founding of the nation first? We need to establish the royal house for any legitimacy when we march in."
"I heard while captured as a prisoner that even seasoned hunters avoid the north. And keep in mind that winter is about to begin, Your Grace."
As expected of learned knights, Ranslo and Edmund advocated caution.
"Our siblings will do anything as long as there's meat."
The Beowulf warriors still seemed to think of nothing but eating.
"Hmm."
Eugene stroked his chin, lost in thought for a moment, then looked up and asked,
"But do orcs usually issue formal declarations of war like this? Are the Baiman Orcs different?"
The orcs Eugene encountered in Cayler Kingdom had no concept of honor. They were so brutally simple-minded that even mercenaries shook their heads.
The orc mercenaries he had seen and fought several times in Brantia were the same.
Orcs saw spears and swords as honor itself—they charged first and talked later.
"They're extremely belligerent, but... I'm not sure. I've never fought Baiman Orcs directly."
"The same for me. Never had business up north."
As Ranslo and Frabow shook their heads, Eugene turned to Pitamoras.
"Know anything?"
"Hmm. As Sir Durak said, the Baiman Orcs are fiercely aggressive. But sending a messenger with a formal declaration like this is extremely rare. Usually, they bring their army and declare war right in front of the enemy."
"As I thought."
"Hm? As you thought?"
As the knights looked curious, Eugene addressed them, glancing around.
"It seems like the orcs are bluffing. A kind of deception, you could say."
"......!?"
"Think about it. They know I've become Duke of Bartla and that I'm aiming for the throne. Doesn't that mean they know quite a bit about me and our forces?"
"Oh! Now that you mention it."
"Right? For hot-tempered orcs—especially ones aiming to unify Brantia—the normal thing would be to roll up here with their army and declare war, as Pitamoras said. Not send a few warriors to Edmund with this ridiculous letter and then flee."
"Oho!"
"Certainly..."
The knights nodded in impressed agreement at Eugene's plausible reasoning.
"Of course, we can't be sure if it's real or not yet. So, how about we use some deception ourselves?"
"Deception?"
"We declare the founding and scout their movements at the same time?"
"Huh?"
"Here's my plan."
As Eugene calmly laid out his thoughts, the knights' expressions shifted constantly.
By the time he finished, every knight's eyes gleamed with anticipation and admiration.
"Your Grace's cunning scheme would make even the legendary Demon King concede a point."
"That spirit keeps calling you Demon King Overlord, and it turns out it was true. Uhahahaha!"
"...Let's have the nobles prepare for the founding declaration."
Ignoring the ambiguous praise or insult, Eugene issued orders.
* * *
Detailed plans for the founding declaration began to be drawn up by the elders of the Bartla ducal family.
If nothing else, they were sticklers for conventions and customs (which Eugene saw as empty rituals), so things progressed swiftly.
Excited nobles from Count Krollmarin—whose lord had become a king—and Bartla elders engaged in heated debates.
But with Eugene standing firm, neither side crossed the line.
"Hmm. Your Grace."
Pitamoras, who had been watching the nobles' arguments with bored eyes, sidled up to Eugene and spoke quietly.
"Who are you sending north?"
"Why? Does the druid want to go?"
"Would I complain? Besides, to deal with an orc shaman, even Your Grace will need my knowledge."
"Could be. But aren't you more essential to the fledgling royal house than to me? Don't wise druids need to guide these incompetent, stubborn fools who waste hours on this? For the king's sake."
In short, handle all the tedious, laborious work.
"...Were you really the Demon King in a past life, Your Grace?"
"Not sure about that. For now, teach that man everything you know about the Baiman Orcs and orc shamans."
Turning from the dejected druid, Eugene nodded toward one spot.
"Huh? To Your Grace's mage? You're taking that one along?"
Pitamoras frowned at Romari, who was cornered, pestering the annoyed spirit with questions.
They had exchanged greetings, but as a continental mage, Romari and Pitamoras were still awkward with each other.
"Regardless, she's my mage. And you're Brantiia's king's druid."
Eugene whispered lowly, words that would deeply move Romari if she heard.
"Druids aren't stingy with sharing knowledge, I hear. If you grant my request, I'll tell my squire—no, Brantiia's king—to actively support your research."
"Hmm."
A promise from the king's guardian himself made Pitamoras narrow his eyes seriously.
There was no room for hesitation.
"Fine, let's do it. But make sure to tell the king."
"Of course."
With confirmation, Pitamoras strode over to Romari.
After a brief exchange, Romari's face paled, and she rushed to Eugene in a panic.
"Sir Eugene, Sir Eugene. You're taking me north?"
"Yeah."
"What? Why me?"
"Want to go back to Mungard and make mana crystals again?"
"Upon second thought, I love snow and ice. Observing orc tribes up close will greatly aid my research. A good mage needs rich experience."
Eugene nodded in satisfaction at the instant reply, without a second's hesitation.
* * *
A few days later, dozens of delegations—nobles from the Bartla ducal and Krollmarin count families as envoys, escorted by mercenaries—departed for various parts of Brantia.
To deliver the news-cum-threat of a founding declaration and coronation in one month to Brantiia's nobles.
Bartla, Eland, Brodia, Krollmarin, Fransil.
No one with guts spilling out would ignore envoys bearing the banners of these five houses.
Hundreds of nobles would surely flock.
Eugene and Pitamoras decided on Brighton—dual capital of the new royal house.
Close to Mungard, Brantiia's only trade port with the continent, and with vampire banneret Randolph as next mayor, it was ideal as a capital in many ways.
Anyway, the delegations galloped tirelessly across Brantia, spreading 'stories of Eugene only.'
On Eugene's orders.
"Tell them only the coronation date and about me. Skip who becomes king. They'll be too busy with tales of me to ask."
The nobles faithfully executed the vampire duke's command, whom they revered and feared.
So devotedly that they shared unfiltered accounts of Eugene's true nature with invited nobles.
Stories of lion-like knights led by Galpredic and Ranslo, and the massive mercenary bands from across the sea, of course.
In the end, the visited nobles learned just how ruthless and cruel Duke Bartla was, and how mighty his army.
They naturally concluded whose coronation it was in a month.
—A vampire duke strong enough to slay two Swordmasters. Insidious enough to wed daughters of two honorable houses at once. Greedy enough to swindle Mungard, Brighton, and Brodin merchants. He ascends Brantiia's throne!
This terrifying introduction, sounding like it described a Demon King, reached even the distant north in less than a fortnight.
* * *
Boom!
"That impudent little-tusked bastard dares call himself king!?"
"It's no longer a claim. He's declaring the nation, and in less than a fortnight."
Orcs clad in beast furs, their long tusks dyed in vibrant colors, could not hide their fury.
The seven orc tribes united under 'Baiman'—the great orc warrior and first orc king—were the Baiman Orcs.
"Assemble all warriors now and charge that insolent Duke Bartla!"
"Our Tolro agrees! That little-tusked one slew the last blood of Tolro's final king. Without him, we'd be unified under a true king by now..."
"Shut your kobold-shitting goblin-hole talk."
"What!?"
"That guy just aped Swordmasters and was one of many princelings. Half-breed at that? He'd drop first in the royal contest."
"You moldy old cock-sucker? Done talking!?"
"Thanks to that moldy old cock, you were born."
"What!"
Fists the size of pot lids flew between the burly orcs in a brutal brawl.
But no weapons, and as surrounding orcs intervened, the fistfight soon calmed.
"This isn't the time for us to fight. Save that strength for the little-tusked one's army."
The orc with the flashiest tusk dye surveyed the tribe chiefs and continued.
"The problem is Duke Bartla ignored our warning. Bigger issue: we haven't crowned a king yet. We can't unite the warriors like this."
The Baiman Orcs were a coalition of tribes. Decisions were slow and inefficient.
But such entrenched tradition—no orc saw it as wrong.
Yet their view of war differed sharply.
All orcs are warriors, and warriors heed none weaker.
Armies gathering multitudes required leadership by an orc deemed 'strongest' by all.
Thus, in Baiman orc society, the king existed solely to lead and represent warriors.
Yet no king after a year.
Normally fine, but with a vampire noble eyeing Brantiia's throne, the chiefs felt the issue.
However...
"If we can't unite, just attack separately. Tolro will lead the vanguard—you follow as you will."
"Vanguard is for the king's tribe by tradition, you ignorant brute. Last king was Kaman blood, so we lead."
"Ah, that guy who got pulped by a troll?"
"You fucker, really?"
Crisis was crisis, tribal pride another matter.
Thus, they managed consensus to declare war first on the vampire noble eyeing the throne, buying time.
But beyond that, no plans formed.
Unaware the vampire duke they warily watched had already entered northern lands.
(To be continued in the next chapter)