Chapter 176
Chapter 176
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 176
Chapter Title: Joining the Vanguard
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“Hey, hunter.”
“Yes, sir.”
No sooner had the hapless half-orc left than Eugene’s group dropped their facades, prompting the terrified hunter to scurry forward.
“How long have you lived here?”
“A little over ten years.”
“You weren’t originally a hunter? You don’t seem like you’re from around here.”
Eugene took a shot in the dark, noting that the hunter, who looked at least thirty, had only been here for a decade.
“Yes, yes. My father was the gamekeeper for Lord Rotun. He got caught poaching and we were chased out, ending up here. Sir knight.”
The hunter bowed and scraped.
This snowy mountain range belonged to no one’s domain, so there were several hunters in similar straits. It wasn’t exactly illegal or wrong.
Even so, the hunter feared this knight’s group, who had taken down two gray wolves in a blizzard.
His hunter’s instincts, honed by the hunt, told him the red-eyed knight was dangerous.
“I see. So you’re not from any lord’s lands?”
“That’s right.”
“You know the local geography well?”
“Of course.”
“Good. I’ll hire you as a guide.”
“Huh?”
The hunter’s eyes went wide as he reflexively snatched the silver coin Eugene tossed him.
“What? Don’t want to?”
“N-no, how could I? But... where are you headed...?”
“The nearest large village around here with a lord or steward.”
“What? Aren’t you a branch of the Tollo family? The closest big village would obviously be...”
A branch of the Tollo family who didn’t know that place?
“So what? Don’t want the job?”
Eugene turned sharply, pulling his cloak tight to leave. The hunter froze under his cold, emotionless gaze.
“It’s three or four days away. Y-yes. I’ll get ready right now. Just leave it to me.”
Somehow, Eugene’s gaze felt far more intimidating than the orc warriors’. The hunter hurriedly packed his things.
* * *
“This is supposed to be the biggest village around?”
“Yes, my lord. It’s managed by Lord Kunderima, a direct descendant of the Tollo family.”
Even as he answered, the hunter cocked his head inwardly.
He’d long since realized Eugene wasn’t from around here.
But after three days’ march, they’d reached a village big enough for a market—one the Tollo family deemed important enough to send the chief’s eldest son as steward.
Yet Eugene’s expression as he surveyed it was like...
‘Disappointed?’
Even if he was a branch family and not local, to look so unimpressed by a village this size?
The hunter couldn’t fathom it, but to Eugene, it was perfectly natural.
“Master, is this really big? It’s about the same size as that first village where you sold the wolf pelt, right?”
Mirian whispered, peeking out from under the cloak and looking around. Eugene nodded silently.
The village paths were mud pits, thronged by orcs, humans, and half-orcs in ragged clothes—a scale just like the villages in Lord Tiwin’s domain.
For the Tollo family—so-called royal house, strongest of the orc tribes—to fuss over a place like this.
It was so shabby he wouldn’t have believed it without seeing it himself.
“Hunter. How many villages like this does the Tollo family control?”
“Er... I don’t know exactly, but I hear no more than three or four.”
“And they call themselves the royal house? Ridiculous.”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing.”
Eugene felt both disappointment and relief.
If the mighty Tollo—the strongest of the seven tribes—was like this, the others were obvious without seeing them.
The Baiman Orcs, self-proclaimed rulers of the north.
In truth, their power was feebler than the great noble houses of the Kailer Kingdom.
‘I get why the orcs allied.’
Their reality was a cesspit, so they had no choice but to band together.
“Hey! You there!”
Lost in thought, Eugene was hailed by several burly warriors approaching.
Clad in crudely stitched hides from beasts and monsters, with rings pierced through their large tusks, they were orc warriors.
“Mercenaries? What’re you doing here?”
“That a sword? You fight?”
The brutish warriors, indistinguishable by gender, surrounded Eugene’s group.
‘Tch. Trouble already? Bad luck right off the bat.’
His usual good fortune had to fail now, of all times.
Eugene pondered luring them somewhere secluded, killing them, and slipping out of the village.
But then.
“Why no answer? You here to join the vanguard? Those wolves—you killed ’em, right?”
“You and that hooded guy look sturdy. Bet you fight well.”
As the orc warrior pointed between the wolf carcasses and the hooded Galpredic, Eugene grasped the situation.
“Yeah, we killed them. Came here to sell, but figured we’d see about joining the war.”
“Oho!”
“But you know, we’re a bit short on coin. Can’t just sign on with anyone, war or not. Better to serve under someone rich, generous, and skilled, right?”
Recalling how skilled mercenaries acted, Eugene adopted a cocky yet confident air.
The orc warriors lit up—Partek might’ve applauded and called it perfect mercenary work.
“Pfft, what’s to see? Just join Lord Kunderima’s command. Oh, I’m Gatudo, one of his men. Seven of you? That small one’s a servant? Slave? Anyway, we’ll treat you right.”
‘Not bad luck after all.’
He’d come to scout Baiman orc movements, but this proactive recruitment was unexpected.
“Hey, Lord Kunderima’s generous even to humans. Fights well, doesn’t care about tusks big or small. You’re no big-tusk, so no command for you, but you’ll get your share of loot.”
“Really? Tempting.”
As Eugene pretended to mull it over, the orcs were convinced he was halfway in and grew friendlier.
“Yeah, yeah. Other tribes haven’t even picked a vanguard leader. We’ve had ours around Kunderima for ages. Oh, right—and he’s recruited a snow mountain druid!”
“A druid?”
Eugene’s surprise drew more boasting from the orc.
“Yeah! Magic’s supposed to be amazing. Already did a divination—came out great.”
“Hoo? What’d it say?”
Loramari sidled up to Eugene at the talk of divination.
“Red flower blooms at White Fang Mountain’s peak! Sound like good fortune? Means we cross the mountains and slaughter the small-tusks. Good omens like that don’t come often.”
Eugene didn’t know what it meant exactly, but it sounded plausible enough.
‘Hmm. But that’s bad for me, isn’t it?’
Mercenaries—orcs or humans—were weak to magic, shamanism, and superstition, believing blindly.
If a druid really gave that prophecy, the vanguard’s morale must be sky-high.
‘In that case.’
Eugene quickly decided, eyeing the expectant orc warriors.
“Fine. With a druid and such a good prophecy, no need to hesitate.”
“Krahat! Smart choice. Come on, friends!”
Eugene followed the orc, who slapped his back with a pot-lid hand.
* * *
The group was assigned a musty room in the dilapidated manor house—unmaintained, crumbling, moss-covered everywhere.
“Ugh, orc stench.”
“Right! Smells like a pigsty where orc brats live! Eeeek!”
Loramari and Mirian recoiled, but Eugene and Galpredic—used to roughing it—didn’t care.
“Meat... smells like pork.”
“Sniff sniff! Pork fat smell’s making me hungry.”
The Beowulf warriors, disguised as servants, thought only of meat.
“Um... Sir knight? Why’d I come all the way here with you?”
The hunter, dragged along to the manor, asked cautiously. Eugene silently handed him a gleaming gold coin.
“I’ll stick with you to the end, Sir knight.”
“Good.”
Eugene patted the hunter’s shoulder as he bowed like lightning. This hunter would be useful again.
“Loramari.”
“Yes.”
She trotted over, pinching her nose. Eugene asked quietly.
“Do mages do divinations?”
“Not just anyone. Specialized ones can. Druids here? Maybe, but it drains so much mental energy they avoid it.”
“I see.”
“Worried about that prophecy?”
Eugene couldn’t deny it. Loramari puffed up.
“No need. Even mages don’t always get it right. If they did, nobles would rely on them totally—why wouldn’t they?”
“Hmm.”
“And mages or shamans don’t fully commit to nobles for that reason. Always begging for divinations, then throwing fits if wrong.”
“So no need to worry specially?”
“Nope.”
Loramari wasn’t always reliable, but on magic, she was trustworthy. Eugene accepted it.
Ten minutes later.
Led by the returning orc warrior, the group went to meet Steward Kunderima.
The manor’s not-so-spacious dining hall was chaos with warriors and mercenaries.
Shouts everywhere, already coming to blows.
‘What a mess.’
Even the steward—a Tollo direct descendant—was drunk midday, groping a camp follower. His orc warriors didn’t control things; it was a marketplace brawl.
With the steward, whore, and most warriors being orcs, Eugene felt odd, but it confirmed this was orc-ruled land.
“Lord Kunderima. These are the mercenaries I brought. Decent ones—they brought gray wolves.”
“Oh~ Really?”
Eugene bowed slightly as the orc noble’s gaze—long fang tip dyed black—turned to him.
“An honor to fight under you, my lord.”
“Kekel! Reliable. But not local? Accent’s rougher.”
Even improved to near-native, Eugene’s accent differed slightly. Kunderima caught it.
“Yes. Family’s from the central regions. Moved when my grandfather was alive; still use the dialect at home.”
“Oho. I see.”
An orc who hadn’t left the snow mountains in ages wouldn’t know other accents. Kunderima bought the excuse.
“So, gray wolves? From White Fang Mountain?”
“Yes, my lord. My family’s from there.”
“Hoo. Know the passes over it?”
“Not really.”
“Tch.”
As Kunderima clicked his tongue, disappointed, Eugene quickly pointed to the hunter.
“He’s hunted and gathered herbs for my family long-term. Knows the snow mountains and White Fang inside out.”
“Oho? For real?”
Kunderima’s eyes gleamed. The hunter paled, glancing between them.
“Of course. How else could I take gray wolves this season? Thanks to this guy, who knows White Fang like his backyard. Very capable.”
“Kuheheh! Promising. Hey! We’ll get along great.”
“Y-yes!”
Pinned by Eugene’s icy gaze and Kunderima’s huge tusks, the hunter nodded instinctively.
Denying it meant death by one or the other.
Better to follow the gold-giver’s intent.
“Then hire this one as vanguard guide.”
“...!?”
The hunter blanched at the sudden heavy role, but Eugene stayed relaxed.
“What about all of us? I hear you hired a druid. We just hunted gray wolves on White Fang—could assist him.”
“Kuha! Good idea.”
Kunderima was pleased with mercenaries bearing visible proof.
Eugene was satisfied too—gaining authority to take the vanguard and the intriguing other-race shaman where he wanted.
‘But where’s Maxen? Didn’t make the vanguard?’
The haughty half-orc group that left first was absent. Eugene wondered.
But the question soon resolved.