Fantasy's Flower: The Orc?
"Is that so?"
"Yes. You're different from any orc I've ever known."
"Well, humans all have their own circumstances, so why wouldn't orcs?"
"Master. I have one request for you."
"What is it?"
"Would you buy me? I'm not clever, and I lack strength, but I believe I can make the purchase worthwhile."
"Ho... Buying you isn't hard. But why?"
"I don't know how much life I have left, but somehow, serving you at your side feels like it would make even my final days meaningful. That's why I dare to ask."
This was a request I hadn't even considered. If a beautiful woman had made it, I'd have agreed in a heartbeat, but an old man who looked to be pushing sixty begging me to buy him? It threw me off.
If I planned to stick around in this world, I probably would've granted the old man's wish. But I was about to fuck these two women and head out, and I didn't see the point in dragging extra baggage along.
"Understood. So be it."
But some inexplicable force tugged at me, pulling me in.
Among the few I'd seen so far, this old man's Fate Index was outrageously high. The Fate Index measures the magnitude of influence someone will have on this world. In other words, this guy was destined to impact the world on a massive scale.
I had no idea what that had to do with me. But ignoring it felt wrong—the sheer size of his fate was too compelling. Might as well buy a lottery ticket; I had the cash to spare.
Actually, that's why I'd asked the dark elf about her past earlier. She had a solid 2,780,000 / 38,738,000—pretty huge numbers. Meaning she'd already influenced about 2.78 million lives, and over her lifetime, that would balloon to nearly 39 million.
The orcs I'd met from morning till now ranged from dozens to a few thousand in Fate Index. In other words, they'd touch the lives of tens or thousands over their lifetimes in minor ways.
Danas Elpina had affected 2.7 million lives already. Could a mere thief or con artist pull that off? Whatever her story, there was potential there worth digging into.
I pulled gold coins from my pouch and paid the slave-trading goblin for the old man.
"What was the old man's name?"
"Before becoming a slave, he was called Zlatu More. But the moment I became a slave, I cast off all my past. If my master would graciously grant me a suitable name, I would be grateful."
Zlatu More apparently meant something like "golden sea" in the language of his homeland.
"Then for now, I'll call you Old Sea. How's that?"
"You know the Maduris tongue."
The old man looked at me with far more intrigue than before.
"Eh, something like that."
"Just as humans differ when there are ten of them, it seems orcs each have their own stories too."
"Yeah. That settles it, right?"
"I'll cherish those wise words."
"Alright, let's move. I've got things to do."
And so, with the old man and the goblin merchant in tow, I toured the slaves.
"By the way, where are the most beautiful females among the ones you've brought?"
The orcs had bought plenty yesterday, but hundreds still remained. Better to ask the merchant than scour them all.
"What kind of beauty are you after?"
"Like the dark elf I bought yesterday. Not the sturdy bitches other orcs want."
"This way, then."
The goblin led me to the heart of the slave caravan.
"These females are for transport east. Orcs don't favor them much."
Sure enough, plenty of stunning women were gathered there. Human females apparently didn't sell well to orcs, so they kept them separate. Prices ranged from 2,000 to 10,000 chur.
Come to think of it, the human beauty I'd seen yesterday wasn't a bargain just because orcs ignored her. Humans had markets eastward, so no need to undersell.
"Is it normal for human females to be cheaper than other races?"
"Yes. Humans are the most numerous on the continent. Plus, with all the wars lately, slave supply has been steady."
Most slaves came from defeated nations in those wars. Criminal slaves were a tiny fraction.
The stock for eastern handover was high quality. I spotted a few that caught my eye.
Sticking around here might beat heading back to reality—not such a crazy thought.
"So, the most beautiful bitches are just these human women?"
Since this was a fantasy cinematic, exotic other-race women felt more fitting.
"Not exactly. This way."
The goblin was starting to act like my personal guide.
"These are dryad females with fairy blood."
"Darian females from the westernmost islands."
The caravan's massive scale meant rare bitches galore. Just browsing was a feast for the eyes.
Unlike yesterday, my pockets were flush, so I took my time.
Eventually, I picked one human and one fairy-blooded female.
"This woman is nobility from the Anapa Kingdom, annexed by neighbors last year. Pure bloodline, so the price reflects that. And being a virgin—eastern men love that—drives it up."
The goblin stressed it wasn't overpriced.
She looked Slavic in real-world terms: tall, slim, stunning face, hands soft as silk—never known hard labor. Noble or highborn for sure.
Money was no issue. I had 3 million chur; two women wouldn't dent it. Beauty was all that mattered.
And she passed with flying colors. Standout even among this crowd. Enough to scrap my other-race preference.
Only issue: she trembled violently at the sight of me.
Well, any human woman not fearing this orc face would be weirder.
Her price: 38,000 chur. Fifty times the dark elf beauty.
The other wasn't human.
"Dryads are hugely popular east, so they fetch good prices."
In this cinematic world, fairies and elves were distinct. This dryad had near-human looks—no pointed ears—priced at a whopping 120,000 chur.
Two hundred times Danas Elpina, fifty times a regular human.
Having snagged Danas cheap yesterday kept comparisons coming.
Goblin said dryads bond to one male for life—slave master or husband—and never stray, even facing death.
"Chastity's symbol, west or east."
Hm. Not my favorite trope. I didn't need virgins or prudes.
But she was gorgeous, so fine.
Beastkin women had beauties too, but after yesterday's scary tiger and elephant bitches, I passed.
"These two it is."
158,000 chur total. Bought 'em and headed back to my tent.
Three orcs lounged out front, chatting.
"More bitches? Classic Temir."
They didn't bat an eye at my extravagance—just flipped middle fingers and laughed.
"But what's with the old male? Bet he tastes like shit."
Huh? Did they think I'd fuck the old man?
"Nah. He'll handle my dirty work. Call him Old Sea."
"Dirty work? Wouldn't a stronger male slave be better?"
"Whatever. Just fill him in on our situation first."
"Got it."
Dropped the old man with Borchi's crew outside and went in.
Danas Elpina sat on the bed's edge, startled at my entrance—she dove under the bed.
"Not planning to torment you now. No need to freak."
Gulp! She stared in terror, distrust clear.
Whatever. I herded the two new women to the tub and had them wash.
The noble human paled stripping, trembling as she scrubbed. Dryad gently embraced her.
The human buried her face in the dryad's breasts, sobbing. Terrified of what awaited.
Who wouldn't be? Shoving this monstrous club into a virgin? Pure punishment.
I watched from afar. Liked the dryad's poise—seemed virtuous, wise.
She tenderly washed the distraught woman, then herself.
"What's your name?"
Led them to bed, asked the dryad.
"You speak our tongue, great lord. I'm Pinga de Auga. Just Auga is fine."
Meant "green water drop" in dryad.
"Nice meaning. But why 'great lord'?"
"Dryads can read men. To me, you look like this plain's mighty ruler."
Straight talk? Or fairy blood giving real insight?
"And you?"
Asked the human.
"Ayane..."
That one word drained her. Tears flowed again.
Her eyes fixed on my already raging cock.
Tsk! Tough sell.
"Don't worry too much. It's just something every woman goes through once. You'll get used to it after tonight."
Dryad soothed Ayane.
"Sob! I don't know what she's saying, but... okay. Sob!"
They didn't share a language—homelands too distant.
"She says don't worry."
Guess I was interpreter now. Weird: translating a soon-to-be-fucked woman's comfort.
But it worked. Ayane nodded faintly, tension easing a bit.