Chapter 181
Chapter 181
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 181
Chapter Title: A Victorious Return
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The hunter had fled into the forest the moment the Yeti appeared, or so he said.
He couldn't keep up with the warriors in battle, but his knowledge of wild beasts and monsters, along with his survival skills, had kept him safe.
"You're lucky. What about you?"
Eugene had suddenly switched to informal speech with Maxen, whom he'd been at odds with just moments ago, but Maxen could only tremble and bow his head.
The fact that Eugene had come from the direction the chieftain had fled meant only one thing.
"W-Well... I hid among the dead warriors...."
"Wow, that's some real skill in that slaughterhouse."
Galpredic snickered, and Maxen's face flushed even redder.
Calling the hunter lucky and him skilled—it was clearly sarcasm to anyone watching.
But Maxen, who had thrown away a warrior's pride himself, had no comeback.
Eugene turned his gaze away from Maxen and looked around.
"What about the Snow Ogre and the other monsters? They couldn't all be dead."
Romari, exhausted from casting the large-scale illusion magic on the monsters, answered with her legs shaking.
"It's weird. They killed all the mercenaries, fought among themselves, and then just a bit ago, they all fled in a panic. Like they were terrified of something."
"Just a bit ago?"
"Yes. The Yeti—the Snow Ogre—fled first."
"Hmm."
Romari cautiously spoke to Eugene as he stroked his chin.
"Sir Eugene, this is just a hypothesis, but monsters that live long in a special mountain like this often develop some intelligence. Especially high-ranking, powerful ones—they're said to evolve by absorbing the mountain's spiritual energy."
"Like that rascal?"
"Kiee... We're all scum anyway."
Eugene nodded toward the spirit rummaging through the pockets of the dead warriors and mercenaries without a care.
A water spirit scavenging for loot in the middle of a battlefield—Romari's expression turned profoundly complicated and pitiful.
"Yes, well, it's different from him, but similar. Though for the Yeti, it'd be more like a spirit beast than a yokai."
"Hmm. So that thing became an intelligent monster?"
"Probably. That's why it fled the moment you released your presence. It must have judged it couldn't win."
"You're saying it ran scared of the master?"
Galpredic summed it up plainly, and Romari nodded.
"Yes, that's it."
"No wonder it didn't show its face when we crossed the mountains. A big monster like that, and it's sneaky. Modern roamers have no guts."
"...How many monsters could stand up to an Origin anyway?"
Even the monsters in the demon realm, enslaved by demonic energy, had fled in terror from Eugene's presence. Weaker roamers went without saying.
"So, that Yeti won't attack us first?"
"No."
"Hmm. That's a shame...."
Eugene licked his lips. He'd been focused on conquering Brantia and hadn't subjugated the demon realm in a while.
A monster like the Yeti probably carried a red mana stone.
Romari, sensing Eugene's thoughts, eagerly asked without hiding her anticipation.
"Sir Eugene, are you going to hunt it? Yetis are incredibly rare and valuable monsters."
"No. Tempting, but we'll hold off. We have more important things."
"Oh... okay...."
Romari deflated instantly, but there was no helping it.
They could track and hunt it over days if that was the goal, but they hadn't come here for monsters in the first place.
"Hey."
"Yes, sir!"
Maxen, who had been anxiously watching the group converse in a foreign tongue, snapped his head up.
"A few questions."
"Ask away! I'll tell you everything I know!"
"How many troops does the Tollo clan have left?"
"J-Just a few dozen guards, probably. The chieftain called all the warriors and mercenaries and brought them along."
"Oh? Then anyone who attacks now could end it quick?"
"Uh, probably?"
No fool would miss who that 'anyone' was, so Maxen's face paled.
A knight and his group who had wiped out hundreds using monsters could handle some guards easily.
"Shall we go take care of it now?"
"Hmm. Maybe...."
Eugene pondered briefly, then asked Maxen, who was watching him intently.
"How many direct descendants of Tollo are left there?"
"D-Direct descendants? You mean the chieftain's sons and daughters?"
"Whatever. How many can represent the Tollo clan?"
"Oh, that—none."
"Huh?"
From Eugene's furrowed brow, Maxen realized he didn't know much about northern orcs.
'Should I lie?'
The thought crossed his mind, but he dismissed it.
They were heading to the Tollo stronghold anyway—any lie would be exposed immediately.
"O-Orc noble clans all join wars. Chieftain and direct line alike. Warriors by birth can't represent the clan if they sit out fights. Same this time."
"I see. So the Tollo direct descendants...."
Eugene glanced at the blood-soaked corpses scattered around, hoping maybe, and Maxen nodded vigorously.
"Yes. Everyone except the very old and young came along."
"Huh! Even for simple, brutish orcs, that's something. You dragged all your grown kids to the battlefield?"
"Well, it's normal for us."
Even Galpredic, hard to surprise, looked dumbfounded.
"Figures orcs are short-lived. Backwoods macho types who don't think ahead."
That extreme lifestyle let orcs dominate the north, but it was incomprehensible to human nobles who valued lineage preservation.
"So just old folks and kids left? Hmm."
Eugene's mind raced.
When first crossing the snow mountains, the goal was just scouting Baiman orcs and hitting them if opportunity arose.
But events had snowballed, leading to the collapse of the Tollo clan, a major pillar of the Baiman orcs.
They'd already exceeded goals.
'Can I turn this into an even better opportunity?'
Even with mighty Tollo fallen, six other clans remained for the Baiman orcs.
Luck had favored them this time, but they couldn't count on it against others.
'They call it an alliance, but they're every-orc-for-himself? Fighting over who strikes first with dumb excuses. Then....'
Stroking his chin habitually in thought, Eugene's eyes landed on Maxen, still anxiously watching him.
'That's it!'
A brilliant idea flashed in his mind.
"Hey, Sir Maxen."
"Yes, sir!"
"Do you know who I am?"
'I don't want to know! Don't tell me!'
That was his honest feeling, but Maxen couldn't say it. He forced an awkward smile and shook his head.
"S-Sorry. My knowledge is limited."
"I'm Duke Bartla."
"Eek!"
Maxen's face drained of color at the blunt answer.
He'd suspected, but the vampire behind all this chaos?
Better not to have heard!
"Spare me! I just wanted to earn merits in the war! I didn't join the vanguard out of hate for Your Grace...."
"I know. What sin have you committed? Blame the Baiman orc chieftain who attacked me without knowing his place."
"As expected of Your Grace! So magnanimous! So just! Only someone like Duke Bartla should rule Brantia! Indeed!"
Eugene was convinced his judgment of character was spot-on as Maxen prostrated and praised him.
Ambitious but cowardly, driven more by desire than honor. Probably because he was a half-orc, not pureblood.
"You joined the vanguard to climb the ranks? Thought you might get land south of the snow mountains if lucky."
"Y-Yes. That's... the idea. But! I never truly meant to oppose Your Grace...."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Anyway, that desire to earn merits—still valid?"
"Pardon?"
"Want to get ahead? Become a lord maybe?"
"Uh...."
Maxen's eyes darted at Eugene's subtle tone, then he nodded.
"Yes. If I don't burden Your Grace... I want to rise."
"Then do it."
"...Pardon?"
Eugene turned from Maxen's blank wide-eyed stare, surveying the orc corpses in the snow with a meaningful smile.
"Chieftain, elders, prime warriors—all dead. Tollo sons and daughters too. Doesn't the Tollo clan need a leader?"
"...!!!"
Maxen, cowardly but sharp-eyed, widened his eyes instantly. Eugene met his gaze with a cold smile.
"You lead the Tollo clan. In return, when you become chieftain.... You know, right?"
Gulp!
Maxen's face flickered briefly between fear and ambition, then nodded rapidly.
* * *
"Huh? Hey, look over there."
"Hm?"
Orc guards bored atop the log palisade walls stared where their comrade pointed.
"Isn't that the messenger from Sir Kunderima?"
"And the branch family guy who left with the chieftain?"
Recognizing the hunter and Maxen, the guards' eyes bulged.
Maxen, now at the palisade gate, straightened and shouted confidently.
"I bring the chieftain's message! Open the gate!"
With the chieftain and most warriors away, the firmly barred gate swung open.
"What happened? Where's the chieftain?"
"The chieftain and warriors crossed the snow mountains safely. Roamers ambushed midway, but I and several warriors repelled them."
Maxen nodded to the hunter, who opened the sack on his back. Monster heads spilled out.
Ooooh...!
The guards' eyes widened at the irrefutable proof. Maxen exchanged quick glances with the hunter.
"We killed even more than these. Anyway, lots to report, starting with disposing of bodies. Oh, who's in charge now?"
"Kartoon the Elder. Chieftain's uncle."
Orcs burn bright young but weaken dramatically past mid-forties.
The dead chieftain and elders around forty—the uncle would be ancient and sickly, liable to drop dead anytime.
"I see. Can you guide me?"
"Of course."
Monster byproducts were vital resources for resource-poor orcs, so the guards grinned and ushered Maxen and the hunter inside.
"Oh, wait."
Maxen halted inside, drawing puzzled looks from the guards.
He gave an awkward smile.
"Uh... back home, after monster hunts, I always do this return ritual. Like a victory roar? Thanks to the earth spirits?"
"Khahaha! Man, a half-blood lord with weird habits. But yeah, you've earned bragging rights. Go wild."
Even as mere guards, they were Tollo warriors—finding the branch half-orc's bravado silly but cute.
'You bastards, I'll pull your teeth raw later. Just wait.'
"Haha. Thanks for understanding."
Swallowing his boiling rage with a forced smile, Maxen climbed the palisade.
"Huu, huu."
Catching his breath, Maxen inhaled the frigid northern air deeply, then bellowed like thunder.
"TOOOOLLO'S MAXEEEEEN! CHALLLLENGES YUUUUGEEENE SIRRRR---!!!"
The half-orc youth's roar—laced with rage, fear, and ambition—echoed across the barren northern plains.
Moments later, in the snow mountain depths, Yan Eugene Bartla, Duke fully armored, emerged with his group.
(To be continued)