Chapter 34: Become Our Neighbors (1)
Chapter 34: Become Our Neighbors (1)
In truth, both Patrick and Turanta were quite surprised as they sized each other up.
‘Not bad. I’ve heard they’re a race of warriors, but I didn’t expect this. He’s much stronger than Red.’
In Patrick’s estimation, the Orc Chief named Turanta was a formidable powerhouse. He was strong enough to overwhelmingly defeat Red, the Master of the Thieves' Guild, in a one-on-one fight.
First of all, his physical frame was fantastic—to the point where one might call it insane. Every Orc Patrick had seen on the way here possessed a physique far superior to any human’s, but Chief Turanta was on another level entirely. It was a body that seemed purposefully crafted for the pursuit of martial arts. The aura naturally radiating from that perfectly tempered form was also quite substantial.
‘He’s strong. Truly impressive.’
Patrick offered Turanta his genuine respect. However, Patrick’s honest admiration was nothing compared to the shock Turanta was currently experiencing.
‘How can this be?’
Turanta didn’t possess a sensitive energy sense like Patrick, nor did he have deep knowledge or insight into the martial arts. However, his intuition, forged through countless life-and-death battles and innate instinct, sensed immediate danger the moment he looked at Patrick—even though the young human showed no signs of hostility.
A herbivore instinctively knows the danger of a predator that views it as prey, even without being taught. Turanta felt as though he had suddenly become the overwhelmingly weaker party. It had been decades since he’d felt this way. Not since he was a young warrior facing his father, the previous Chief, had he experienced such a sensation.
Turanta looked Patrick straight in the eye and spoke.
“I welcome the visit of a great warrior. Patrick.”
“Ahem, well, thank you for the welcome. So, Chief, have you heard why I’ve come?”
Perhaps because he felt acknowledged, a hint of politeness—however slight—seeped into Patrick’s usually crooked and rude attitude.
Turanta replied, “I heard you wish to assist us in the decisive battle against the King Ogre.”
“That’s right. I heard from Tutan earlier that the Orcs intend to stand and fight the King Ogre. He also said you have no chance of winning.”
“We fight even if there is no chance. A warrior does not run.”
“Well, putting that stifling conviction aside for a moment…”
Warrior my ass. If it’s dangerous, you should bolt. Do warriors have spare lives or something?
Patrick wanted to say it, but he held back. He knew all too well how difficult and exhausting it was to persuade people armed with such rigid convictions. Besides, Patrick’s goal in coming all this way wasn’t actually to persuade them.
“Though we’ve settled a bit of a distance away, we are neighbors living on the same land as the Red Rock Tribe.”
“I am aware. If one goes to the outskirts, there is a kingdom of humans. Are you a King?”
“No, not a King…”
“Then are you a servant of the King?”
“Well, strictly speaking, it’s not me, but my father who is a servant of the King.”
Patrick’s social status was rapidly plummeting.
“Now that I think about it, our Young Master is a nobody socially.”
“He has no power. He’s just the young lord of a noble house, right?”
“He hasn’t even had his coming-of-age ceremony, so he’s basically just a brat…”
The soldiers chattering behind him hurriedly looked away when Patrick glanced back.
‘I’ll deal with you lot later.’
After giving the soldiers a warning look, Patrick turned back to Turanta.
“What is a neighbor, after all? Isn’t a neighbor someone who helps and stays together during hard times?”
“Is that so?”
“Of course. And when I heard through Tutan that a great calamity had befallen the Red Rock Tribe, I resolved to come and help immediately.”
“You… would help us?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“Hmm…”
Turanta fell into thought. This human named Patrick seemed incredibly strong. He couldn’t quite measure the depth of it, but it was certain the boy was stronger than himself. Although the humans behind him didn’t seem like much, the participation of this single young monster seemed to offer a small glimmer of hope in this desperate war. However…
“From what I know, humans do not move without a price.”
“Well, it’s not always like that…”
“We do not have the gold you humans desire. We have no price to give.”
“Hahaha. If you put it like that, people will think I’m someone who only cares about money.”
‘Aren’t you?’
‘That Orc is a good judge of character.’
‘A very smart Orc.’
The soldiers marveled at Turanta’s insight. It seemed the wisdom of age was not to be trifled with, whether one was a human or an Orc.
Patrick cleared his throat and spoke.
“I don’t particularly want money. Instead, if I had to call it that… I have one small request.”
“A request?”
“Yes. If we defeat the King Ogre with my help… Ah, first of all, we’re taking all the hides, tendons, and anything else that might be worth money.”
“That does not matter. Is that the request?”
“No, that’s just a given. My request is something else.”
“What is it?”
“Become our neighbors.”
“…Neighbors?”
“Yes. We’re technically neighbors now, but we don’t visit each other, and we’re so far apart that we can’t even help when an emergency like this happens. I don’t want us to be distant neighbors who barely know each other; I want us to be true, close neighbors.”
At Patrick’s words, Turanta frowned.
“Patrick, great warrior. Do you wish to use us as slaves?”
Slaves.
There was a time when human-supremacist ideology spread across the various nations of the continent, making it commonplace to enslave other races. Dwarves, Beastmen, Elves, and Sirens—many races were captured and used as slaves by humans.
However, during that horrific era, the one race humans failed to enslave was the Orcs. The race of warriors. A race of struggle that did not fear death and resisted until the last man. Even if a slave brand was engraved to impose a taboo, it was useless. If forced to choose between submission and death, an Orc would choose death without a second’s hesitation.
Thus, even the humans of the past concluded that enslaving Orcs was impossible. However, the amount of Orc blood spilled on this land during that process was immense.
Since Patrick had received a basic education after being born into this world, he knew a bit of that history. That was why he now straightened his back and looked Turanta clearly in the eye.
“What I want is not slaves, but neighbors—friends who can protect one another.”
“How can I believe that?”
“I swear upon the honor of what is most precious to me. I will never use your people as slaves.”
“……”
Turanta gazed at Patrick intently. In truth, a human’s oath was rarely trustworthy. They were a race capable of speaking lies with a straight face.
Turanta spoke while looking directly into Patrick’s eyes.
“Humans are not to be trusted. We Orcs are not wise, but we know that much.”
“……”
“However, an oath spoken by a great warrior of your caliber might be worth believing.”
“……”
“I, Turanta, Chief of the Red Rock Tribe, shall place my trust in the human, Patrick Schneider. Will you lend us your strength?”
“You won’t regret it.”
Turanta held out his hand. Patrick grinned and grasped that large, thick hand.
* * *
With a massive battle looming, the warriors of the Red Rock Tribe were busy making full preparations.
“We lack weapons. Bring more!”
“Go to the quarry and make more. It is still not enough!”
“Roast the meat. We must eat well to have strength!”
“Meat, meat, meat is always right.”
In truth, their "preparations" mostly consisted of checking their armaments and eating their fill.
Orc weapons were made of stone. Lacking the technology to smelt iron, they used stone tools, a relative of chipped stone implements. However, they didn't use ordinary stones; they used a special type of rock that was incredibly heavy and hard.
It was a material called Kallius. Normally, if this rock appeared during mining or construction, it was a headache that made the work difficult. It was far harder and heavier than most metals. Humans processed it to use in the foundations of castle walls, but the Orcs were the only race that used it for weaponry.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
“It is done.”
Patrick chuckled as he watched an Orc warrior pound away with a stone hammer made of Kallius, looking satisfied with the weapon he had crafted for himself.
“Their strength really is something else. Those guys in the Martial World who bragged about being 'mighty men' or 'giants' were nothing compared to this.”
In learning martial arts, physical constitution and natural talent are paramount. In that sense, while their talent was unknown, it was no exaggeration to say the Orcs were truly blessed in terms of their physical constitution. And there were two hundred such blessed warriors. It was a force that could not be ignored.
‘And yet, they thought they had no chance against a King Ogre?’
“Just what kind of monster is it to make them feel that way?”
At Patrick’s question, Sanson, who was standing nearby, spoke up.
“Do you remember the Saber Tiger you caught before, Young Master?”
“I do. What about it?”
“An ordinary Ogre is on a similar level to that Saber Tiger.”
“Then it’s no big deal, right?”
“But they say a King Ogre is several times stronger than a normal Ogre.”
“Still doesn’t sound like much.”
“And it is said they subjugate other Ogres to serve as their subordinates.”
“Well, it’s probably fine.”
“Their numbers can sometimes reach into the hundreds.”
“…Okay, that sounds like a bit of a big deal.”
“According to legend, there are stories of entire nations falling to a King Ogre whose pack grew to thousands.”
“…What are you trying to say?”
At Patrick’s question, Sanson spoke as if he had been waiting for the chance.
“We must stop this madness and go back.”
“Hey, how can we do that now?”
“Young Master!”
“Ah, don’t shout…”
Patrick picked at his ear and spoke to the dead-serious Sanson.
“Do you not trust me?”
“I trust you, Young Master. But even so, the opponent is too dangerous this time.”
“Well, hearing you describe it, it does sound like quite a terrifying existence.”
“It is. So…”
“So, shouldn’t we kill it as quickly as possible?”
“Pardon?”
“You said if we leave it alone, it’ll grow its pack until it becomes a disaster even a kingdom can’t handle, right?”
“That is true.”
“Then wouldn’t the damage be minimized if we eliminate it as early as possible, the moment it’s discovered?”
“Um…”
“Besides, if we fight now, we have two hundred powerful Orc warriors fighting alongside us. If we run away now, and the King Ogre wipes out the Orcs, expands its territory, grows its pack, and then invades our territory?”
“……”
“Can we stop it with our territory’s current strength then?”
Sanson stood dazed for a moment after hearing Patrick’s explanation.
“Did you… think that far ahead?”
“Of course. Did you think I came all this way just thinking, ‘Sweet, an expensive monster. Let’s go hunt it’?”
“……”
‘This brat really did think that.’
Feeling slightly wounded, Patrick let out a sigh.
“Hey, Sanson.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why are we hunting monsters in the first place?”
“That’s…”
A look of realization dawned on Sanson’s face. As Sanson’s face turned red, Patrick continued.
“We hunt monsters to clear the area around the territory so the people can live in safety. Well, the side income from the monster byproducts is pretty sweet too, of course.”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“But when a disaster that might destroy a nation has appeared less than five days' walk from our territory, should we just leave it be?”
“……”
“Are you stupid? Is your brain not working?”
Sanson’s face turned even redder. Patrick was money-grubbing, had a foul personality, and was sometimes so cruel it made one wonder if he was a human or a demon—but everything he was saying now was perfectly logical.
The soldiers of a territory exist to protect the safety of its people and must do their best to that end. Yet Sanson, who had been appointed as the Guard Captain, had overlooked that very fact.
‘And I call myself a candidate for knighthood. I…’
Sanson could only lower his head in shame.