Guardian: Derek Walker 5
Orcs only make a fuss for two reasons. Either a pretty female shows up, or a powerful enemy appears.
"Important news?"
"The Egadul tribe attacked Leaf Village and suffered near-total annihilation, chwiik! So, they told us to spread the word to all the other tribes, chwiik!"
The place the orcs called Leaf Village was what humans knew as Allen Village.
"Near-total annihilation?"
It seemed like a powerful enemy had appeared this time. Bargo listened intently to the orc who had come to deliver the message.
Orc tribes getting wiped out wasn't all that rare. But that was only when human armies came for a subjugation. Not when attacking a village. When raiding villages, they traded roughly equal blows. In the end, the orcs were the ones who retreated.
As far as Bargo knew, the Egadul tribe's attack this time had come earlier than usual. For orcs, that was using their heads.
Of course, they hadn't calculated the timing precisely. Last year, no human subjugation force had formed, leaving the orc tribes with plenty of fighting men. So they'd attacked earlier than normal. From the humans' perspective, it must have been an unexpected timing.
Yet the orc tribe that charged in like that got wiped out? It was hard for Bargo to accept. Had the humans seen through the orcs' shallow tricks and hired some expert?
"Chwiik! And there's more! They say there's an incredible female in that village. A body you wanna shove it in, and she's damn good with blades too! They told us to spread that around as well, chwiik!"
"An incredible female?"
"Chwiik! If you want that female, advance on Leaf Village—all of you! I've delivered the message! I'm off! Chwiik!"
Having said his piece, the orc turned and dashed toward the next tribe. Sure enough, orcs only got worked up over two things. A pretty female, or a powerful enemy. This time, it looked like both.
Bargo crossed his arms and sorted through what he'd just heard.
The Egadul tribe had attacked a human village and gotten wiped out. The cause seemed to be some mysterious beauty in the village. What really caught Bargo's interest wasn't her looks, but that she had considerable skill.
"If word like this spreads to the other tribes, it'll be chaos."
The reason for spreading the rumor was simple. It was a silent call to gather strength and hit the human village. Orcs were so straightforward that just saying there was a female worth fucking got them to band together easily. They reacted strongly to news of a skilled fighter too. Bargo was no different.
"Intriguing."
Bargo decided on a course of action. His tribe would do as always—watch from the rear. He had no desire to lose tribe members. Compared to others, Bargo's tribe had an overwhelmingly low birthrate, so every orc was precious.
"A swordsman of considerable skill."
The orc had specifically said she was damn good with blades, so the rumored female was definitely a swordswoman. He had no intention of getting dragged into some pointless war, but spectating a fight? That piqued his interest.
The village chief's house was rundown and cramped. No different from the other villagers' homes. Usually in rural spots like this, the chief's place stood out as bigger and fancier, but not here.
The only decoration was a wolf pelt spread on the floor. A dusty bow and hunting dagger lay abandoned in the corner of the living room—probably from his younger days as a hunter. Without prior info, you'd mistake it for a hunter's hut, not the chief's house.
A chief's home this shabby meant either a frugal chief or a poor village. Probably not the former.
"We sincerely welcome you to our Allen Village. It's nothing much, but please rest comfortably."
The chief's welcome was textbook. But his expression looked like someone who'd been dragged back halfway from fleeing. I shot straight at the chief with that sour face.
"Orcs are coming, right? This village gonna be okay?"
"Y-yes! We've sent out messengers to the outside."
"Huh? Weren't you the messenger just now? And you're the chief too? The chief delivers the letters himself around here?"
"!?"
One look at the old bastard's face, and I could guess the situation.
This fucker was definitely planning to rabbit. Village in a bind, so he was gonna abandon it and run.
A chief like that? First time seeing this village, but fucking pathetic. In this world, village chiefs held serious status locally. A village stuck with a deadbeat like this was in for a rough road.
"Ahem! Well, you send multiple messengers to be sure. Anyway, just wait a bit, and the territory army should send support!"
The old man swiftly changed the subject. I didn't press it. Whether this fucker ditched his home village or not was none of my business. My goal right now was finding the Moonshadow of Greed. According to canon, it was in a peaceful rural village on the Malak Plains.
"How long do you travelers plan to stay?"
The chief rolled his eyes and tossed the question our way.
"Just a short rest, then we're off. In a hurry."
I played it cool for now. I planned to stick around longer for the Moonshadow, but no need to show my hand. Spill your wants too quick, and you get screwed. Especially not to a shady fucker like this.
"I-is that so!?"
The chief didn't try to stop me as I stood. If anything, he sighed in relief. Looked like he wasn't thrilled about us staying.
I opened the chief's door and stepped out. Someone was waiting outside. Name was... Drobin, right?
"Ah! You're out already!?"
Drobin said to me. His face screamed he had a favor to ask.
Living as Derek Walker, I'd seen his type countless times—knew it from the expression alone. Kid was young, so he sucked at hiding it. Or maybe he just pegged me as a sucker and didn't bother.
"Yeah. In a hurry, y'know."
Drobin bowed his head at my reply.
"I know it's shameless, but could you stay in our village a bit longer? Just until the reinforcements arrive, please!"
His request was right on target.
Orcs were a dumb race. But their lust was filthy strong. Never in history had an orc attack ended in a single wave.
No telling when the next assault would hit, but right now, Allen Village was wide open. Villagers desperately patched the broken palisade and treated wounded militia, but holding off another orc horde like this? Impossible. Even waiting for territory army aid was a stretch.
Village youth leader Drobin realized he had to cling to the man before him. Or rather, his bodyguard (she called herself a maid, but her skills screamed escort knight).
"I know it's shameless, but could you stay in our village a bit longer? Just until the reinforcements arrive, please!"
Drobin bowed deeply before Walker. Normally the chief's job. But titles didn't matter now. Somehow, stop this man from leaving.
"That's a no-go. Got places to be."
"Just until reinforcements... please, help us till then? We'll make the reward worth it."
Walker's lip curled at Drobin's words. Not because it tempted him. It was laughable.
To Walker, this village had nothing to satisfy him. A rural spot constantly monster-raided? No way they had cash to please him. Sure, a hot babe would change things.
Finding a pretty country girl is harder than striking gold.
Country beauty—magic words to stir a man's heart. But finding the real deal? Tough. Rural folk don't primp. Gotta hunt natural stunners, and if they're common, they ain't stunners.
"What exactly is this 'worth it' reward? Something to please a merchant like me?"
"W-well... let me talk to the chief first."
Drobin was just the youth leader. No power to decide village matters solo. He dashed into the chief's house.
Walker crossed his arms and waited. Truth was, even without the kid begging, he'd planned some excuse to stay—for the Moonshadow. Drobin, clueless, rushed to the chief with a desperate face.
"Chief!"
"Drobin. What brings you here?"
Gibbs, packing to flee the village, snapped at Drobin barging in unannounced. Like a thief spooked by his own shadow. He slyly shoved his packed stuff aside.
"Those benefactors. Shouldn't we keep them here till reinforcements? If orcs hit before they arrive, the village is done."
"Reinforcements in a day or two, right? No way orcs attack again that soon."
"Can't say. But for the village's safety, better prepare."
Drobin's point was solid. Hard to argue. Gibbs scowled openly.
To Gibbs, plotting a quick exit, village fate meant squat. If it burned, even better—his crimes would vanish clean.
"Don't worry. In all my years here, orcs never hit with such short gaps. Go tend the wounded."
Drobin bristled at the cold dismissal.
"Chief! What're you saying!? Don't you get the situation!?"
He couldn't fathom it. Village on the brink, every possibility needed weighing—yet Gibbs acted like it was someone else's problem.
"What!? You green kid lecturing me!? Think that youth leader band makes me easy prey!? You brat!"
"That's not it! If orcs hit before reinforcements, we're finished. Everyone becomes orc chow."
"Never happened before!"
Gibbs stomped furiously. Old hunter or not, he had strength. The thud shook the floor, toppling his packed bags.
Crash!
Wooden utensils and junk spilled from Gibbs' pouch. Drobin's eyes went wide.
"Chief! What's this? Utensils and a map? Travel kit? Why now... wait!? You planning to run!?"
"N-no! Just precautions!"
"Wait! What's that fat pouch?"
Drobin pointed to a brown leather pouch deep in Gibbs' pack. Gibbs clutched it like a plague victim.
"Th-this? Family heirloom!"
"Suspicious! Chief, show it."
"You punk ordering the village chief around!?"
Drobin was dumbfounded at the chief's gall. Evidence screamed flight plans. Yet the shameless denial. Old age really killed conscience.
"Fleeing in a crisis deciding the village's fate? You're no chief!"
Drobin shoved Gibbs hard. Chief was once top hunter, but Drobin was Allen's best now. No match for a 60+ geezer. Gibbs ass-planted.
"Oof!"
Thud!
Drobin yanked the leather pouch. Gibbs flailed, but Drobin pinned him and peered inside. Shockingly, it brimmed with silver coins.