Chapter 33: Ohhhhhhh! (2)
Chapter 33: Ohhhhhhh! (2)
All strength in this world is relative.
This burly Orc warrior, who had bravely proven his might against a Giant Bear, was undoubtedly a powerful individual.
However…
“Say it again. Go on, say it one more time. You little brat, acting all high and mighty.”
“Gueeeek! Human! Mad human! Save Orc!”
“Mad human? You want me to show you what ‘mad’ really looks like, you bastard?”
“Save Orc… Kuwoook! Not there! For the sake of preserving the species… Gueeeek!”
“Dieeeee!”
In front of Patrick, he was nothing more than a punching bag with a satisfying grip.
Watching the scene of brutal devastation, the soldiers—who had failed to stop it—sighed, looking at the pitiful Orc with sympathetic eyes.
“Oh boy, in the end…”
“I knew it. I knew it would turn out like this.”
“As they say, fate is something human strength cannot defy.”
Once he got like that, there was no stopping him.
Trying to intervene would only increase the number of people getting beaten.
* * *
Patrick had no particular reason for pummeling the Orc.
If he got pissed off, he swung.
That had been Patrick’s principle of action since his previous life.
So, there was no grand purpose behind beating the Orc warrior. There wasn't, but…
“O Great Warrior. I swear my loyalty to you.”
“…Why?”
Exactly as he said: truly, ‘why?’
How did it come to this?
Not only Patrick, but the soldiers watching from the side were also curious.
The Orc, who had been beaten to a pulp by Patrick, suddenly regained his senses, knelt on one knee, bowed his head, and swore his allegiance.
Wasn't this a bit too sudden?
Just then, the Orc warrior lifted his head.
What greeted them was a pair of sparkling eyes, devoid of even a hint of malice.
Looking at Patrick with eyes reminiscent of a calf’s, the Orc warrior spoke.
“With your bare hands, you subdued me easily, proving you are a warrior superior to me.”
“Well, that is true.”
Apparently, Patrick was proud of that even in this situation.
The Orc warrior looked at Patrick and continued.
“Therefore, I swear my loyalty.”
“So, because I’m stronger than you, you’ll obey? Is that it?”
“It is only natural for a warrior.”
“…Really?”
“Yes. It is so.”
Watching the Orc warrior answer with a polite bow, Patrick had a realization.
“Ah… I wondered why this felt so familiar.”
“What is it, Young Master?”
“Nothing. He just reminds me of Mu-jong.”
“…Who is that?”
“Just someone I knew.”
Who on earth was he talking about?
The soldier had no way of knowing, but at this moment, Patrick was recalling memories of the past.
The Iron Blood Dragon, Peng Mu-jong.
A direct descendant of the Hebei Peng Family and a sworn brother who had traveled with Jincheon.
Actually, though they were called sworn brothers, they hadn't hit it off from the start. Their first meeting went something like…
[Ha, are you the swordsman from that third-rate sect that’s about to go bankrupt? Stop acting arrogant and learn your place.]
It started like that. And the progression that followed was roughly…
[Hmph, you’re decent. But you’ve still got a long way to go.]
[You… you hit pretty hard. But the real fight starts now!]
[Aaargh! Brother! I was wrong… Gwaaargh! I said I was wrong, you bastard! Aaaargh!]
It was like that.
And finally, the end result was…
[Brother. I, Peng, have fallen for your immense martial prowess and fiery personality. Please, accept this younger brother’s bow.]
[Aren’t you two years older than me?]
[If you’re better at fighting, you’re the older brother.]
[That actually makes sense.]
And so it went.
Afterward, the Iron Blood Dragon Peng Mu-jong traveled many battlefields with Jincheon, shedding blood, drinking wine, and sweating together.
Patrick looked at the Orc warrior with a distant gaze.
Resistance. A beating. Submission.
Watching this perfect three-step reformation process reminded him of Peng Mu-jong, the swordsman of the Hebei Peng Family and his sworn brother.
He was a truly good brother.
His family was well-off, so he had plenty of money, too.
There were many perks to having a rich younger brother.
If Patrick wanted a drink, he’d buy the alcohol.
If Patrick said he was hungry, he’d buy expensive meals.
If Patrick was bored, he’d rent out an entire gisaeng house…
‘Brother, I’m sorry.’
Thinking back, Patrick realized he had only ever been on the receiving end.
‘Ah, so that’s why the Head of the Hebei Peng Family looked like his insides were boiling every time he saw me.’
It was only after dying and being reborn that Patrick understood the reason.
Anyway, this Orc’s way of thinking reminded him of his sworn brother from his past life.
Because of that, his anger seemed to subside a bit.
“Ahem, well, fine. That’s enough. Get up for now.”
“Understood, O Great Warrior.”
“Let’s start by introducing ourselves.”
It was an introduction made only after a thorough beating and an oath of loyalty.
“My name is Patrick Schneider. And yours?”
“I am Tutan.”
“Right. Tutan. I heard you earlier—you said you’re fighting something called a King Ogre?”
“It is a King Ogre.”
“Same thing. Anyway, if you’re going to war against such an expensive monster, you must have a good chance of winning, right?”
“Hahaha. Why do you ask something so obvious?”
“Hahaha. I guess so. You wouldn't do it unless you had a chance. If possible, we’d like to join in—”
“There is, of course, no chance of winning. It is impossible for our Red Rock Tribe to defeat the King Ogre with our strength alone.”
“…Hey. Didn't you say you were going to fight?”
“We must fight. The King Ogre is evil.”
“Wait. Hold on. I’m not following, so let’s just clarify the situation for a second.”
Patrick went through the facts one by one in a slightly calmer tone.
“You said you’re fighting the King Ogre?”
“Yes. That is correct.”
“And you said there’s no chance of winning?”
“Yes. That is correct.”
“Then if you fight, you’ll all die?”
“We will all fight and die, down to the last man.”
“Hahaha. I see. That’s how it is.”
“Hahahahahaha.”
“Ugh, you brainless idiots!”
Wham!
Patrick’s kick sent the burly Orc warrior flying.
Then, he began to rant and rave.
“You morons! If you don’t have enough power, you shouldn't fight; you should run away! Why fight to the last man? Why?!”
“Kuugh… For a warrior, retreat is…”
“You want me to give you a glorious death right here and now?”
“…….”
The moment he saw Patrick’s eyes glinting with killing intent, even the brave Orc warrior flinched and looked away.
‘Whoa… an Orc is intimidated.’
‘The opponent isn't even a dragon, but an Orc is cowering.’
‘Would anyone believe me if I told them this?’
Orcs, the race of warriors.
It was the nature of the Orc race to fight to the end, prepared for death even in defeat.
Yet, it seemed even a brave warrior of the Orc race had no choice but to shrink back in the face of a madman’s insanity.
Patrick spoke to Tutan.
“Hey, is your place far from here?”
“It is not far.”
“Then let’s go there first. I need to see your… Family Head? No, Sect Leader? What do you call him?”
“He is the Chieftain.”
Oliver approached and spoke cautiously in response to Patrick’s words.
“Right. Then I need to have a talk with that Chieftain.”
“Understood.”
“The reason is… Huh? You’re going to lead the way?”
“A warrior follows the will of a warrior stronger than himself.”
“Uh, yeah. Right. I see.”
Patrick, who had been prepared to give a long speech to persuade him, nodded and thought to himself.
‘This is surprisingly convenient.’
* * *
Three days later.
“We are almost th—”
“You son of a bitch!”
Wham!
Patrick’s kick landed squarely on the back of the brave warrior Tutan.
Then, Patrick climbed on top of the fallen Tutan and spoke through gritted teeth.
“Why… why are you doing this, Brother Patrick?”
In the meantime, he had started calling him ‘Brother.’
And Patrick spoke through gritted teeth to his newly acquired younger brother.
“Didn't you say it wasn't far? Didn't you say it would be quick?”
“It has only been three days… Gwaaargh!”
“Die! Just die, you bastard!”
Indeed.
Between humans—or in this case, between a human and an Orc—the sense of distance was not necessarily the same.
Tutan had said his village wasn't far, but that was strictly by his standards; for humans, a three-day march was plenty far.
Furthermore, this wasn't just a regular road, but the Great Forest teeming with monsters.
Patrick and the soldiers had spent the last three days suffering through the remote depths of this Great Forest.
They fought monsters at every turn.
They took long detours to find drinking water.
They had to hunt for every meal because they lacked supplies.
They were bitten by insects while they slept.
They had marched like that without stopping, and they still hadn't arrived.
And this was in a place where they had brought almost no food and where drinking water was scarce.
Perhaps that was why.
“He deserves it. He definitely deserves a beating.”
“If he held back for three days, our Young Master showed a lot of patience.”
“If it had been one more day, I would have lost it before the Young Master did.”
The soldiers watching Tutan get brutally beaten while pinned under Patrick didn't show a shred of sympathy.
“Gueeeek! Brother! Calm… Great Warrior, calm down…”
“Shut up! I’m not your brother! I’m not a great warrior!”
“That is… Kuugh… for Brother to decide… Gueeeek!”
“Die! Die! You green bastard!”
As he was pummeling him for a good while, unexpected figures appeared and saved Tutan.
“Tutaaan!”
“Who is it? Who dares attack our brother?”
“Everyone, prepare for battle! It’s an enemy!”
They were Orc warriors of the Red Rock Tribe, just like Tutan.
They had heard their comrade’s desperate screams while on patrol and rushed over.
Having arrived, they were shocked in two ways.
One was the shock that Tutan, one of the top warriors of the Red Rock Tribe, was being unilaterally overwhelmed, and the other was…
“Grrr… (What are you guys?)”
“Be careful! It’s a new species of monster!”
“It’s a being that has lost its mind. Watch out!”
“Do not back down! We are Orcs, the race of warriors!”
“Arrrrgh… (Calling a human a monster? You bastards all want to die together.)”
Just as Patrick was about to lunge at the poor Orcs, Sanson and the other soldiers hurriedly intervened.
“Young Master! Please, calm down for now.”
“Kyarrrrgh! (These bastards are calling me a monster!)”
“It’s a situation that could easily be misunderstood.”
“Grrrr! (What did you say? You guys want to die too?)”
“Please, speak in human language first.”
Only after the soldiers spent a long time soothing him and Tutan persuaded the Orc warriors that it was a misunderstanding could the confusion on both sides be resolved.
“So, Tutan, you’re saying these are guests you brought?”
“That is correct. And he is a Great Warrior, far stronger than I.”
“Hmm, it appears so.”
Even through the green tone of Orc skin, Tutan’s face was visibly swollen and bruised.
Wasn't this clear proof that Patrick was stronger than Tutan?
Seeing him give a thumbs-up and smile even with his face so swollen, it seemed he wasn't quite normal either.
“Anyway, Brother wishes to see the Chieftain.”
“Why does he want to see the Chieftain?”
“That is…”
Tutan hesitated for a moment. Then he turned around and asked Patrick.
“Brother, why did you want to see the Chieftain?”
He was asking that now. Only now…
The soldiers looked at Tutan with pitying expressions, while Patrick looked up at the sky, let out a sorrowful sigh, and spoke.
“Why? Why do only guys like this gather around me? Why?!”
* * *
Turanta, the Chieftain of the Red Rock Tribe, had ruled the tribe for over thirty years.
He had experienced many things during his long reign, but this was the first time a human had visited his tribe as a guest.
Furthermore, that human was…
“Hello. I’m Patrick Schneider.”
“A child?”
The fact that he was a small child, seemingly not even a quarter of his own size, was even more surprising.
Regardless of the race, wasn't it common sense that young individuals were fragile and needed care?
However, just looking at the young human named Patrick standing before him…
‘He’s a monster.’
Turanta’s muscles tightened with tension.
Even though the opponent wasn't particularly threatening him, he couldn't relax his body.
Patrick spoke to Turanta.
“Is there a problem?”
“…None. Even if you are a child, you are a warrior.”
“Ooh. At least you recognize it, being the Chieftain and all.”
“Young Master!”
“Please, speak more politely.”
“He is the Chieftain, after all…”
The soldiers were the ones feeling anxious at Patrick’s casual tone.
They didn't know much about Orc etiquette, but surely the leader of a tribe would have a corresponding level of authority.
Patrick’s words and actions, packed with rudeness, could easily become a spark for conflict if someone wanted to take offense.
Moreover, this Orc named Turanta was clearly different from ordinary Orcs, even to the soldiers’ eyes.
He had a much more massive build than a typical Orc, with perfectly tempered muscles.
The Stone Blade he held at his side was larger than his own body.
‘He can swing that?’
‘At first, I didn't think it was a weapon; I thought it was a pillar.’
‘I was wondering why there was a stone pillar inside the tent, too.’
The soldiers couldn't help but worry that the giant Orc might get angry at Patrick’s rudeness and swing that absurdly massive Stone Blade at any moment.
However, contrary to the soldiers’ fears, Turanta spoke in a voice that was almost cautious.
“Though young, you are a Great Warrior. A warrior deserves respect.”
“Kuuu. You know your stuff. You really do.”
Patrick nodded as if to say, ‘Yeah, that’s how it should be,’ while the soldiers remained on edge.