Chapter 5
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Fire at the Broken Bow Gorge
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I returned to the command tent.
Lize was still trotting along right behind me.
Hiccup. Hiccup.
As more people gathered, the trembling started up again, but it was still better than before.
Once inside the tent, the knights, led by Sir Heinrich, all turned to look at me in unison.
"Young master, please issue the order to retreat. We need to head straight back to the ducal territory, report the situation, and bring a proper army with us."
The knights around him nodded in agreement.
They were all thinking the same thing.
It was only natural.
I had thought the same way myself just five minutes ago.
But now, things were different.
"We can win this."
I said calmly.
The tent fell silent in an instant.
Sir Heinrich's eyes widened.
"...What did you say?"
"We can beat the orcs."
I repeated myself, enunciating each word clearly.
"Y-Young master."
One of the knights spoke up hurriedly.
"There are 500 orcs. We're only 65 strong. This... this is reckless."
"It's not reckless."
I shook my head.
"There's a way. But I need to confirm it first."
Sir Heinrich stared at me intently.
His eyes held a mix of doubt and worry.
It was the natural reaction when a ten-year-old suddenly claimed they could win.
"Bring everyone from the village."
"...Pardon?"
"All of them. We'll need their help."
Sir Heinrich hesitated for a moment before nodding.
"...Understood."
He gave a subordinate knight a look, and the man hurried out of the tent.
Soon enough, villagers began gathering one by one.
The village chief led them, followed by the blacksmith, farmers, women—about half of the roughly 500 villagers assembled in the open space in front of the tent.
"What is it, young master?"
The village chief asked, his face etched with anxiety.
I opened my mouth slowly.
"I heard there's a gorge to the north of the village."
"...A gorge?"
The village chief tilted his head.
"To the north... a gorge..."
He glanced around at the other villagers.
But most shook their heads.
"I'm not sure."
"First time hearing about it."
As expected.
Just as Lize had said, most of the villagers didn't know about it.
"Does anyone know of it? The gorge deep in the northern forest."
I asked again.
The people just looked at each other's faces.
Silence fell.
That's when it happened.
"Th-there is one."
A trembling voice came from the back.
The crowd turned.
A man stepped forward cautiously.
He was middle-aged.
His left arm was gone.
The scar on his shoulder looked cleanly severed.
"Uncle... Hans..."
A very small voice came from behind me.
It was Lize.
Smaller and more trembling than usual.
Not a hiccup, not a "yoo," just pure, raw trembling in her voice.
The man named Hans turned to look at Lize.
His eyes widened.
"L-Lize...?"
The man's voice shook.
"Is that really you?"
"...Y-Yes..."
Lize nodded.
He took a step forward but stopped dead when he saw her eyepatch.
"You... you're alive..."
Hans's voice broke off there.
He bowed his head and covered his face with his remaining hand.
I watched the scene for a moment before speaking quietly.
"Hans."
"...Y-Yes, sir."
"Tell me about the gorge. In detail."
"The gorge is deep in the northern forest. When I was a kid... I used to play there with the other village children."
"How high?"
"Ab-out... 100 meters, I think. Maybe even more..."
It matched what Lize had said.
"How wide?"
"Narrow. Really narrow. Five adults... no, maybe ten if packed tight, but comfortably? Three or four at most."
All the information lined up perfectly with Lize's description.
"Distance from the village?"
"Ab-out an hour's walk. The forest path is a bit rough..."
"Wide enough for orcs to pass?"
"...Yes. Plenty wide. The orcs... they came that way last time too."
Hans's voice trembled briefly.
Memories of that day must have resurfaced.
I didn't ask any more.
I had all the information I needed.
The gorge was real.
Lize had told the truth.
And that gorge...
Could become our Broken Bow fire trap.
I looked around the tent.
The knights led by Sir Heinrich, the soldiers, and the villagers.
All eyes were on me.
Gazes mixed with anxiety and expectation.
I spoke calmly.
"We can win this. I'm certain."
"Young master... we understand there's a gorge. But with just that..."
Sir Heinrich said cautiously.
"Right. That alone won't do it. We need help. From the villagers, the knights, the soldiers. Everyone."
"What... what do you plan to do?"
The village chief asked in a quivering voice.
I fell silent for a moment.
Organizing the plan in my head.
Broken Bow fire battle.
Zhuge Liang's fire attack.
"We'll lure the orcs into the gorge."
"Lay down the straw! All over the gorge floor!"
A soldier shouted to the villagers.
"The knights need to ride through on horseback to lure them, so make sure the horses don't get hurt—nothing to snag their hooves!"
The villagers sprang into action.
Hauling intact bundles of straw to the gorge, spreading it on the ground, clearing away rocks.
Even the knights shed their armor and sweated alongside them.
It was a strange feeling.
These people, actually following the words of a ten-year-old kid like that.
Sure, I was nobility... but a bastard son at that, a bookish weakling who couldn't wield a sword or cast a spell.
Still, since they had expectations, I had to deliver.
Sir Heinrich approached me.
"Young master, do you really think... this will work?"
Doubt still lingered in his voice.
It was understandable.
I nodded.
"Have you studied military tactics, sir?"
"...A little, at the academy."
"Then you know. You don't send troops carelessly into a gorge."
Sir Heinrich nodded.
"Of course. Perfect terrain for an ambush. What fool would..."
He trailed off.
Then stared at my face.
"No way..."
"Yes."
I smirked.
"Orcs are idiots."
Orcs were stronger than humans.
Not just in raw muscle.
They were strong, of course. But something far more terrifying defined them.
Their greatest strength: their breeding rate.
Unlike humans or other animals, orcs didn't mate male to female.
Instead, they reproduced via spores.
Spores naturally released from an orc's body would fall to the ground and take root.
After about a year, they grew into adult orcs.
Shorter breeding cycles than humans, no need for pairs.
In war? Spores sprouted from the corpses of slain orcs.
The fiercer the battle, the more orcs died, the more the next generation multiplied.
Unless spores were actively purged from an area, their numbers exploded uncontrollably.
A nightmare system from humanity's perspective.
When I first read about it in a book, I wondered.
How had humans survived against a race like this?
Overwhelming breeding, superior combat power, multiplying with every death.
No way humans could win.
History books backed it up: far more defeats than victories against orcs.
And yet.
Why did human lands outstretch orc territories?
Many reasons.
Magic, knights, walls, organization.
But the biggest one?
They were dumb.
The sun was setting.
On the hills flanking the gorge, 55 troops lay in wait, holding their breath.
Five knights, fifty soldiers.
Camouflaged with branches and grass, hiding behind rocks and in tree shadows.
Someone stifled a cough, body shaking.
The air hung heavy.
Below, straw blanketed the gorge floor.
Laid carefully so hooves wouldn't slip or snag.
Spread evenly across the narrow passage, it looked like a golden carpet.
Bathed in sunset glow, turning red—a strangely beautiful sight.
If not for the hell about to unfold.
Dry wood and hay piled mountain-high atop the cliffs on both sides.
Villagers had hauled it all day.
Men, women, even the elderly—strapped to backs, loaded on carts, arms full.
"If it saves our village."
"This much is nothing."
Oil-soaked rags tied everywhere.
Ready to ignite.
Wind carried the sharp, acrid, anxious scent of oil.
I crouched behind a boulder at the hilltop, peering down at the gorge entrance.
From here, the whole thing was in view.
Narrow, elongated passage.
Steeper cliffs on either side.
Flammables stacked above.
A perfect trap.
In theory, at least.
But this was reality.
Novels and real battles differed.
In stories, plans went off without a hitch. Enemies blundered into traps, allies executed flawlessly.
Reality?
Too many variables.
What if the orcs didn't enter the gorge?
What if the fire wouldn't catch?
What if, what if, what if...
Sweat slicked my palms.
Heart pounding.
Maybe the ten-year-old body. Or my naturally timid nature.
Or both.
Calm down. Calm down.
I took a deep breath.
In my past life, I loved games.
Strategy sims, history games, war sims.
Commanding thousands, tens of thousands on screen.
Lose? Reload and try again.
But now...
No save files. Lose here, and it's over. Me, Lize, knights, soldiers, villagers—all dead.
No reset button.
"Young master..."
A small voice.
I turned. Lize crouched beside me.
Hiccup. Hiccup.
The trembling worse than before.
Her hand gripped her sword tight.
The sheathed blade quivered faintly.
"Yeah?"
I tried to keep my voice steady.
Lize stared north and asked.
"Was Zhuge Liang... scared at first too?"
I looked at her.
Sweat trickling from under the eyepatch.
Pale face.
Trembling hand.
But she hadn't run.
She stayed by my side.
"...He was."
I answered honestly.
"Really?"
"Yeah. Zhuge Liang was human. His first battle must've terrified him."
Lize turned to me.
Her gray eye met mine directly.
"But... he's a genius. Calculates everything, knows all, never errs..."
"That's the story version. Real Zhuge Liang made mistakes. Plans went awry, unexpected things happened."
"I see..."
Lize murmured softly.
And then.
Ruuuuumble—
The ground began to shake from the north.
Faint at first.
Like distant thunder.
But closing in.
Ruuuumble. Thud. Thud. Thud-thud-thud—
Vibrations reached my feet.
Hundreds of orcs charging at once.
"They're coming..."
Someone whispered shakily.
Soldiers hunkered lower.
Knights held their breath.
I fixed on the gorge entrance.
Hoofbeats sharpening from the darkness.
Followed by monstrous roars.
"Kieeeek!"
"Kraaaargh!"
Orc cries.
Ear-splitting, shrill, guttural.
Finally.
A horse burst into view from afar. A knight-mounted steed.
Second, third followed.
Horses skimmed over the straw-covered floor.
Hooves rang out crisply.
The knights shot through the gorge.
Out the other side.
"On plan!!"
A nearby soldier signaled with hand signs.
Troops on the hill flattened further.
Ruuuuuuuuumble!
The orcs appeared.
"Kieeeek!"
"Kroooo!"
The first orc emerged at the entrance.
Enormous.
Over two meters tall.
Green skin, jagged fangs protruding.
Tree-trunk arms gripped a crude axe.
Second, third.
Ten.
Twenty.
Fifty.
Orcs poured in endlessly.