Chapter 158
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 158
Swallow seemed to have been briefly roused from his doze alongside Melju, disturbed by the chill radiating from Rene.
“Boss, do you have any idea why Miss Rene is acting like that?”
“……What?”
At Patrick’s question, Swallow glanced from Rene to Uin on the screen. His expression remained utterly blank as he processed the situation.
“Ah, are you talking about that human… what was her name, Wumin?”
“Who on earth is Wumin?”
“Moomin?”
“No, never mind. You don’t even know her name, so how could you possibly know?”
Patrick nodded as if this were only natural. Fortunately, he hadn’t expected anything this time. With no expectations, there was no disappointment.
“I see. The trick was to never expect anything from you in the first place, Boss.”
Delighted by this newfound truth, Patrick laughed like a man who had lost his mind.
Judging by how Swallow remembered a name that was at least somewhat similar, they must have crossed paths somewhere. But where else could they have met? At most, it would have been in Riaze or Knecht.
‘There’s no way they met in both places… If they did, it was probably Knecht.’
I’ll ask Miss Rene for the details later, when she’s in a better mood.
Patrick muttered to himself and turned his attention back to the screen.
On the screen, morning was breaking over the Annun Plains. As the fresh sunlight illuminated the landscape, it felt peaceful for the moment… but that was all.
“Well, it’s ultimately an Orc victory,” Patrick declared flatly.
There was no need to watch the next battle. From the Empire’s perspective, holding out until morning was a decent effort, but the numerical gap between the Orcs and the Imperial forces had only widened.
“Indeed, it’s over,” Swallow replied, glancing at the screen in the full-body mirror.
A Hero might be able to face hundreds or thousands alone, but that was literally just hundreds or thousands. The difference in troop numbers between the two forces was in the tens of thousands; the appearance of a Hero named Uin was not a variable that could overturn the outcome of the war.
In the first place, the Orcs had retreated despite being in a position to push forward precisely because they were confident of victory. In fact, they had enough forces to disperse and form a complete siege in the next engagement.
The humans had already suffered a night raid. Just because they had survived one ambush didn’t mean another wasn’t coming. Now that the anxiety of an imminent Orc attack had taken root in the soldiers’ hearts, they wouldn’t be able to rest properly even if given the chance.
“As I mentioned before, there’s a large-scale Teleportation Hub in the Imperial camp. If the Orcs capture that, the next battlefield will be the inner castle of Riaze. Boss, if things go wrong, the Empire might actually fall.”
“Hmm.”
The matter was too important to simply brush off. Swallow scratched the back of his head, looking troubled.
“The fall of the Empire would be a problem.”
He didn't care if they fought among themselves and thinned their own ranks, but the complete annihilation of the Empire's human population would be troublesome.
For now, he needed a large number of humans to exist. They needed a central point to bind them together—a human nation.
‘If there were another nation on a scale that could replace the Empire, I wouldn’t care what happened to it.’
But currently, there was no alternative. If the Empire fell, he would have to wait an indefinite amount of time for another nation of similar scale to emerge.
There was no telling how much time that would waste. He wanted to avoid that scenario if at all possible.
“Well, let’s watch a little longer.”
Even so, taking action right now wasn’t a good option either.
The most ideal outcome was ‘a situation where the Empire disposes of Nilkumbal without me having to lift a finger.’
If there was even a small chance the problem could be resolved by leaving it alone, Swallow wanted to avoid intervening as much as possible.
“Aren’t you just being lazy?”
“No. This could all be part of a thorough and meticulous calculation.”
—No. The moment you use the word ‘could’ to describe your own actions, it’s over.
A look of sheer disbelief pierced the back of Swallow’s head. Unable to bear the glare, Swallow rolled over and buried his face in the floor, as if he couldn’t stand any more nagging.
Patrick turned his gaze back to the full-body mirror. Swallow silently wished Patrick would just go back to his own room, but the silent plea didn’t seem to reach him.
“More importantly, Kurak is being incredibly desperate,” Patrick said, quietly observing the Orc camp on the screen. “This is a different situation from Erebos.”
Most of Erebos’s Undead Legion were mindless creatures. Furthermore, Erebos was revered by the undead as a god-like entity, far beyond a mere leader. In a way, hating and invading the Empire was Erebos’s personal will, and all the undead followed his orders absolutely.
Kurak was different.
His position was merely that of a leader carrying the fate of the Orc tribe on his shoulders. For such a leader to start a war with the Empire, risking the very survival of his race…
“I can’t even begin to imagine how deep Kurak’s resentment toward humans must be. Then again, it’s true that Orcs have been heavily persecuted by them.”
“Huh? That’s not it.”
“Pardon?”
Swallow, who had been trying to sleep peacefully with his face buried in the floor, gave a brief reply. Patrick questioned the unexpected answer.
Wondering where to even begin, Swallow paused for a moment before replying in a tone that suggested it was no big deal.
“Kurak doesn’t hate humans.”
*
The Annun Plains, the Orc camp.
Orc Legion Commander Kurak.
The pain-filled groans of wounded soldiers echoed clearly inside the barracks.
Kurak sat on a massive bone chair, his eyes closed tightly. He clasped his hands together and bowed his head slightly, as if in prayer.
Even with his eyes shut, the screams of the Orc soldiers remained vivid in his mind.
Although they held a clear advantage against the Imperial forces, every victory was accompanied by sacrifices, both large and small. Every time they reorganized the legion’s ranks at camp, Kurak had to endure those sounds.
“……There is not much longer to go.”
If they could endure the pain just a little longer, the Orcs could advance.
The typical lifespan of an Orc was thirty years at most.
Usually, they didn’t make it past twenty. It was common for them to die before reaching fifteen, and in times of famine, a tribe’s lineage could be wiped out before its members even survived a decade.
Kurak had overcome these innate limitations to live for over two hundred years. He had started as an ordinary Orc soldier. After fortunately surviving countless battlefields, he inherited the souls of his great ancestors, wandered the entire continent, and met numerous monsters, learning, feeling, and experiencing.
When Kurak returned to his homeland, he became the chieftain of his tribe, along with the title of the strongest Orc. Since he had lived several times longer than other Orcs yet had not lost his strength, it was a natural outcome.
After that, Kurak’s tribe naturally expanded its influence. His rise to the peak as the Orc Legion Commander happened in the blink of an eye.
Living for over two hundred years, Kurak had learned many things. Among them, one fact was absolutely clear.
Orcs are weak.
This did not mean they lacked physical strength. A species’ strength is not determined by physical power alone. This was the conclusion Kurak had reached while looking at the future of his race from a macro perspective.
—As time passes, Orcs will fall behind.
Compared to two hundred years ago, Orcs had made no significant progress.
To blame it on their short lifespan was a poor excuse; humans, who progressed day by day, did not have particularly long lifespans either.
Low intelligence wasn’t the issue, either. Orcs simply hadn’t learned; they were not a stupid race.
Indeed, had Kurak himself not learned so much? Were there not Orc shamans who openly learned magic that even humans struggled with?
—A tribal society.
Orcs were scattered all over the continent. They had no intention of gathering. Each tribe developed differently, and the progress of civilization was not passed down through generations.
Developing differently and inefficiently, with even those minor advancements failing to be easily inherited—how could they not fall behind?
For Orcs to preserve their species in the future, they had to progress.
Of this, at least, Kurak was certain.
And the best model for that progress was the species that enjoyed the benefits of civilization the most.
—Humans.
Starting from rock bottom was needlessly inefficient. It was far more effective to learn from and catch up to the technology humans had already built.
Plundering or usurping to steal technology might be efficient in the short term, but it would only bring superficial progress. To truly catch up with humans, they had to interact with them.
Interaction. That was the answer Kurak had found.
They had to stand on equal footing with them, catch up to their technology, and use that as a foundation to achieve their own unique Orc advancements.
Nilkumbal was the nation of Orcs created for that very purpose. Under Kurak's command, all Orcs learned the languages of other races. Once a basic foundation was established, Kurak proposed exchange with the human kingdoms.
However, the ideal outcome Kurak hoped for never came to be.
—There was a nation that refused to recognize other races as equals, rejecting and persecuting them simply because they were monsters from dungeons.
That was also the moment Nilkumbal, which deserved to be recognized as a nation, was classified as a Great Evil Cave.
The first place Kurak contacted was the Kingdom Alliance.
An Orc envoy, carrying Kurak's orders, headed to the Kingdom Alliance. He was completely unarmed, showing not a shred of hostility, and the proposal was peaceful, suggesting they start with small-scale exchanges.
The Kingdom Alliance, however, expressed their refusal. The reason was short and clear.
“Under the current circumstances, we do not wish to worsen our relations with the Empire.”
The Kingdom Alliance was weak. It was, in the first place, an alliance formed by six nations to avoid being absorbed by the mighty power of the Empire. With the Empire so passionately pursuing dungeon subjugation, they feared that interacting with monsters might upset their powerful neighbor.
Even so, they did not show open hostility. The Orc envoy reported that he had returned after receiving decent hospitality. For this, Kurak was grateful. The fact that humans had not reacted with pure skepticism was, in itself, good news.
And so, Kurak pondered.
‘The Empire stands at the forefront of civilization among the human nations.’
If exchanges were to happen, shouldn’t they establish a friendly relationship with the Empire as well?
—Yes, let us persuade the Empire.
Having made his decision, Kurak sent an envoy with a carriage full of treasures to the Empire. The reply came three months after the envoy had departed Nilkumbal.
—Inside the box was the severed head of the envoy.
He had expected a refusal, but this was a clear provocation. It was a response that completely obliterated any room for compromise.
‘So, this is how they play.’
The Kingdom Alliance had been right. The Empire was a nation that built its strength by pioneering territories through dungeon subjugation.
The moment they recognized and respected dungeon monsters as equal entities, their subjugation campaigns would lose all legitimacy. Of course they would never agree…
…He had known this, but he could not simply give up.
He repeated his attempts several times after that. Throughout the process, there was never any invasion of Imperial territory. He merely requested peaceful negotiations whenever the Empire’s leaders changed or new figures came into power.
Kurak believed.
He believed that the reason they rejected negotiations was due to the distrust built up over time. If they could just dispel that distrust, hope would appear.
He had believed so, but…
—The day after the Empire designated Nilkumbal as a Great Evil Cave, a large-scale subjugation squad led by a bow-wielding Hero raided Nilkumbal's territory.
Half of Nilkumbal was stained blood-red by that raid. Although they managed to repel the invasion, it cost the lives of thousands of his kin. Furthermore, they lost the precious treasures their ancestors had so desperately protected.
Only then did Kurak realize.
How foolish he had been.
That the Empire had absolutely no intention of understanding him.
Kurak changed his mind.
It would be fine to exchange only with the other kingdoms. No, rather, to exchange with them, he had to sever their relationship with the Empire.
The Empire had to fall.
However, Kurak also knew how difficult it was to destroy the Empire. No matter how desperately they tried to build their strength, the humans’ rate of progress was always faster. Just as Kurak had predicted, the gap between their species was widening.
They were falling behind. All they could do was hold their breath and watch for an opportunity.
Time passed. The Empire grew stronger day by day. It seemed as though an opportunity would never come.
Then, without warning, the Black Disaster raided Riaze.
The Empire began to shake. It was an opportunity that would never come again. Kurak had to fight.
For the sake of the Orcs.
……
“O Great Legion Commander.”
Three hours after the Orc army's retreat, Daru, an Orc shaman and Kurak’s loyal subject, entered the barracks.
As soon as Daru finished a brief greeting, he held out the back of his hand. A pure white pigeon was perched upon it.
It was from the Pope.
“A carrier pigeon has arrived.”
“How long has it been?”
“Not even five minutes have passed.”
“Hmm.”
At Kurak’s flick of a finger, Daru untied the pouch bound to the pigeon’s ankle. He immediately pulled out the hexagonal mana stone contained within.
The moment Daru pulled out the mana stone, it began to emit light on its own. It seemed to have been prepared to activate automatically.
“…”