Chapter 177
Chapter 177
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 177
Chapter Title: The Fake Shaman Exposed
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After exchanging greetings with Kunderima, Eugene's group settled into a suitable spot in the corner.
Eugene, Romari, and the hunter sat with their backs against the wall. Galpredic, with his massive build, and the Beowulfs—who even in human form had imposing physiques—sat on the outer side, preventing anyone from approaching unnoticed.
"None, right?"
"Yeah. Doesn't look like it."
Just to be sure, they scanned the tavern once more, but amid the warriors and mercenaries gorging on food and drink, there was no sign of Maxen and his group.
"Strange. They should know the area well."
For starters, it didn't make sense that Maxen, a true branch member of the Tollo family, wouldn't know this village.
They couldn't have run into bandits or brigands along the way either. If that had happened, Eugene's group would have spotted them en route.
That left only one conclusion.
'Did they go somewhere else?'
That was odd too.
Maxen had clearly said he'd join the vanguard, and as a Tollo branch member, he couldn't possibly be unaware that Kunderima was leading it.
'Not my problem anyway.'
If Maxen had recognized them and brought unnecessary attention, it could have exposed their identities. Better that he wasn't here.
"But Master, isn't the group a bit small?"
"Hmm."
Eugene nodded slightly at Galpredic's words.
Maxen had said the Tollo family had around fifty warriors worthy of the title.
Yet among the people in the tavern now, only about ten seemed to be orc warriors.
Their similar attire and the rings pierced through their molars made them easy to identify.
The remaining thirty or so appeared to be mercenaries. A few orcs were among them, but they lacked the rings and wielded cruder weapons compared to the Tollo warriors.
'Is this the Tollo family's full strength? Something feels off.'
Maxen might have seemed flighty, but he didn't strike Eugene as the type to make up falsehoods.
Still, what they saw now was less than half—or even a quarter—of what Maxen had described.
"Alright! Everyone, raise your mugs!"
Owoooo!!!
At Kunderima's gravelly shout, the warriors and mercenaries hoisted their wooden mugs high.
As Eugene's group followed suit, Kunderima stood from his seat and raised his voice while surveying the tavern.
"We all know those weak little-tusked fools at the foot of the snow mountains are frail—and the spirits of the mountains know it too! Let's open the path of blood with me, Kunderima of Tollo! Once we blaze the trail, Tollo's warriors will follow! And after them, the lazy big-tuskers will lumber along!"
'Huh?'
Eugene and Galpredic exchanged glances, sensing something off in Kunderima's speech.
"Fill your bellies with the blood of little-tusks! Kill and plunder to your heart's content! First to claim it keeps it! I'll take the glory and honors—you lot grab the gold and jewels! Drink!"
Uwooooooo!!!
The speech from Kunderima, the hot-blooded direct heir of Tollo—the most belligerent of the seven orc tribes—was indeed something else.
With his gravelly roars laced with bursts of intimidation, the warriors and mercenaries unleashed their bloodlust as they gulped down their ale.
Even the Beowulf warriors, no slouches in ferocity themselves, had their eyes turning red-rimmed as they bellowed.
But Eugene and Galpredic, unaffected by orc intimidation, exchanged cool nods.
'Kunderima's a greedy one, just like he looks.'
It seemed the impatient Kunderima, blinded by the chance for glory, had formed this vanguard on his own without consulting the family.
That explained why Maxen wasn't here—he'd probably gone to join the Tollo main force elsewhere.
'Good thing orcs are so simple-minded. Still, where's the shaman?'
Eugene scanned the rowdy, partying warriors closely, but no orc resembled a shaman.
"Romari. Anyone who looks like a shaman?"
"Doesn't seem to be. No mana flow either."
"Hmm."
If they were marching out tomorrow, you'd think they'd parade the shaman upfront to boost morale. It was peculiar.
Orcs loved showing off, and a shaman who could spout impressive prophecies would surely brag about it...
'A secret weapon of sorts?'
Recalling Pitamoras's stern warning to beware orc druids, Eugene clicked his tongue in regret.
It would have helped to scout him beforehand. Looked like they'd have to wait until tomorrow.
* * *
Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong!
Chaeng! Chae-chaeng! Chaeng! Chae-chaeng!
Leather drumbeats rose from the ground, filled by the metallic clashes of spears, swords, and axes.
Centered on Tollo's orc warriors, with mixed-bloods and human mercenaries added, the march was noisy indeed.
A bit meager to call an army, but the morale of these rough northern warriors was sky-high.
Eugene watched the orc warriors' backs as they strode ahead, his battle axe and spear slung over his shoulder.
'Decent mercenaries, and every warrior looks knight-grade. Makes sense—the orcs we fought in Maren were no pushovers either.'
The memory of clashing with orc warriors to rescue the chatty Knight Madrica made Byeman's confidence understandable. And these seemed stronger than Maren's orcs.
"Hey."
Then, a squint-eyed old orc approached and addressed Eugene.
"I heard from Lord Kunderima. You know the way over the snow mountains?"
'Orc shaman!'
Eugene nodded quickly to the old orc adorned with a goblin skull on his head and clutching a crooked staff.
"That's right. Me and my friend here will guide you."
"Krrm."
Stroking his multicolored-painted molars, the orc shaman eyed Eugene and the hunter alternately. For some reason, his gaze felt distinctly displeased.
"You sure?"
"Y-Yes, very sure."
"Tch! Fine then. Whatever."
As the hunter bowed hastily, the orc shaman tsked in annoyance and turned away.
Eugene tilted his head at Galpredic as he watched the shaman depart.
"Weird. Shouldn't he be happy we know the way? What's his deal?"
"Yeah. Didn't he divine it himself? Said the omens were good too."
"Hmm."
Eugene glared at the orc shaman striding arrogantly beside Kunderima.
He'd encountered plenty of mages before. Recently Romari and Pitamoras, and he'd slain two necromancers who turned monsters undead.
They all had a distinct aura, both visually and sensorily.
But this orc shaman had no special presence at all.
"Romari, sense anything?"
"Nothing. It's odd—no mana flow, no mystic aura from spells."
"Mirian. You?"
"No kin scent at all. Just pig stink."
Eugene's brow furrowed deeper. If even a real mage like Romari and a spirit felt this way, something was definitely off.
"Um, Sir Knight?"
"Hm? What?"
The hunter called cautiously, glancing around before speaking low.
"Well, sir... I think I know that orc."
"You do? Who?"
"The orc shaman."
"What?"
Eugene nearly shouted and leaned in close to the hunter.
"What do you mean? Explain exactly."
"It's the hut you came to, sir. I don't just hunt around there, you see."
That figured. A beast hunter's range was vast, especially in a monster-infested place like the snow mountains.
"Go on."
"So?"
"I roam over a couple peaks and visit little villages at the mountain base sometimes. I think I saw him there. No, definitely did."
"Hoo. Keep talking."
Surprised by the unexpected info, Eugene swiftly slipped a gold coin into the hunter's hand.
"Y-Yes, sir. So what happened was..."
No mere pat on the back—the hunter, thrilled by the generous gold reward, eagerly spilled everything he knew.
"Kie. Gold really is the ultimate tempter, bending humans, vampires, orcs alike."
No kidding—even spirits fell for it, so money was one hell of a demon.
* * *
Three days later, Kunderima's forces faced the snow mountains towering like a massive wall.
"Hey, little-tusker!"
"Yes."
At Kunderima's order, Eugene stepped forward with his group.
Eugene advanced boldly, like someone who truly knew the path.
The hunter actually led by a couple paces, but with the snow mountains ahead and morale soaring, none of the warriors paid it any mind.
"Oho! Pros really know their stuff."
"Weather's perfect too. The mountain spirits must be watching over us."
With clear skies and warriors and mercenaries who'd hunted here before, they followed Eugene without suspicion.
But they'd only been to areas frequented by hunters, clueless to the snow mountains' true nature.
They didn't know the peaks turned into a white hell under that clear blue sky, or that past one ridge, blizzards blinded you ten meters ahead.
Anyway, Kunderima and his forces followed Eugene's group without worry.
Except one person, who grew increasingly uneasy as Eugene's group navigated mountains and valleys effortlessly.
'Do these guys really know the way?'
The orc shaman.
He'd dismissed them as ragtag pretenders puffed up by the vanguard title, but they seemed genuine. Their confident pathfinding screamed expert guides.
'Ah, this is bad for me.'
After much agonizing, the shaman resolved himself.
"Hold up, everyone!"
"Huh? What is it, shaman?"
Kunderima halted and turned at the shaman's voice.
The shaman strode up gravely, pointing his goblin-skull staff at the snow mountains and raising his voice.
"Lord Kunderima. I sense the aura of the White Fang Mountain spirits right now."
"What? Suddenly?"
"Yes. I'm surprised too, but the mountains are close now, I suppose. Hmm? This is...!?"
"Huh!"
Kunderima and all the warriors and mercenaries gaped in shock.
To them, an orc shaman outranked even the seven tribes' chieftains in reverence. Seeing him tremble and his eyes blaze made them anxious.
"Omnak moro rak. Vidas aribureca..."
"Gulp."
As the shaman waved his goblin-skull staff toward the mountains, chanting unintelligible spells, even Kunderima swallowed hard.
"...Kashua!"
Finishing with a shuddering staff, the shaman whirled and pointed at Eugene.
"The White Fang Mountain spirits whispered to me! That one's an impure being! A false prophet leading us all to the path of death!"
After ignoring Eugene's group since day one, the orc shaman's shout stunned everyone.
Eugene stared at him incredulously, then glanced at the hunter.
"Hey. You said he's a fake shaman, right?"
"Y-Yes, exactly. Knows zilch about real shamanism—just a con artist scamming ignorant villagers for coin. I mean, threatening death on you proves it, doesn't it, sir?"
The hunter could barely contain his excitement.
He'd seen that orc "shaman"—con artist—in action hereabouts for over a decade.
He'd even bought a protective charm himself, only to break his leg tripping in a familiar forest the next day.
"No, from what he just said, he doesn't sound fake."
"...Pardon?"
As the hunter blinked at Eugene's words, the shaman bellowed again.
"Lord Kunderima! Slay that false one quickly! Only then will the mountain spirits—"
Kwaaaaaa...
The shaman cut off as cold air hummed with vibration. Everyone turned toward the source.
"...!?"
A black cloak billowed, translucent energy shimmering like heat haze above it.
And that wasn't all.
Three servants shed their long, thick fur robes, revealing heavy leather armor covering limbs entirely.
Grrrrrr...
With low growls, the servants' bodies began to swell.
Orc warriors cried out as they saw limbs sprouting thick gray fur and faces twisting into beast forms.
"Beowulfs!?"
Swish.
Eugene tossed his cloak aside and turned to the hunter.
Pfft! Pop-pop!
His cheap leather armor strained as his body ballooned, eventually bursting it.
Now vastly larger—two or three times a standard Beowulf warrior—Eugene opened his mouth as the Lycanthrope King, champion monster.
"For a con artist, he nailed it. They're all dying here today."
White breath billowed from his jaws, hitting the hunter's face—and he fainted dead away.
(To be continued)
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