Underground Ruins (2)
Owen sensed something was off.
He shot Mugura a warning glance to quit fooling around amid the orc's excitement.
But the creature only grew more puffed up at being recognized.
"Has word of me already spread among the humans? Krahahaha! Not surprising at all. I, Mugura, was once the ruler of Margel Island, with wits sharp enough to pierce the heavens and earth."
Owen shook his head with a sigh and ignored him.
"Let's talk at my place. We can't keep standing on the docks."
"Well said. Lead on."
Bellatel slapped his waist in relief. Sailing was no easy feat for the old mage.
At Owen's gesture, Mugura took the lead.
This cheerful, devil-may-care orc soon drew every eye from the reinforcements.
What the hell is that thing?
Mugura reveled in the attention, waving merrily to the crowd.
"Greetings, everyone!"
"Gah! An orc!"
"Whoa, whoa! No need to panic. I'm on your side. Your friendly neighbor, the kind-hearted Mugura! Hahaha!"
As they headed to Owen's quarters, Mugura's booming laughs sent people fleeing in terror time and again. His tusks gleamed with every grin—a sight to chill any soul.
"Humans are so shy, great conqueror."
"Eh, let 'em think what they want..."
The jovial mood evaporated once they reached Owen's place.
No need for prying eyes, so Karaku dropped his disguise.
The square-jawed human guise vanished, revealing a hulking, battle-scarred orc elder.
Countless facial scars told tales of a veteran of countless wars.
Mugura's face twisted in horror, as if he'd seen a ghost.
"Y-you! No... y-you're dead! Uwaaaah!"
He stumbled back and fell flat on his ass.
Trembling uncontrollably, he stared in disbelief while Karaku chuckled low.
"Good to see you again, Mugura."
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Owen realized it had been a transformation spell after all.
Karaku offered a light greeting and a smile.
"Nice to see you again, benefactor. But first, I have business with this fool. Mind if I step away briefly?"
"Go ahead."
"He's one of your men now, though. Mind if I get rough?"
"Not at all. Long as he can still yap afterward..."
"Much appreciated."
Karaku nodded with a savage grin.
Mugura bolted up and tried to flee.
Bellatel reacted first.
"Where do you think you're going!"
He jammed his staff between Mugura's legs.
"Whoa!"
Mugura tumbled forward in a spectacular heap.
Even in this mess, Bellatel conserved his magic.
A grand archmage could've subdued him with a flick, but no—he dove in bodily. Truly the miser of the mage world.
Luke stepped up next, pinning the fallen orc's neck underfoot.
"Gurk!"
Karaku yanked rope from his belt and bound Mugura's legs tight.
The trio moved with uncanny coordination despite their rough rapport.
"Going somewhere?"
"Eek! Mercy, Legion Commander!"
Karaku seized Mugura's topknot and slammed him into a chair.
"Long time no see. Let's chat. Nice and slow."
"Haha... h-how could I refuse?"
Owen's curiosity piqued.
"What exactly happened between you two?"
"Perfect timing—I've been sharpening my skinning knife. I'll explain while I prep."
Karaku unpacked his kit on a nearby table.
Leather rolls unfurled to reveal surgical tools fit for flaying.
Then it hit Owen.
Right, this guy's got that nasty hobby. Peeling prisoner skins for his collection.
Humans called it twisted, but orcs saw it as a refined pastime—requiring finesse, even earning cultured nods.
"Uwaaa! M-mercy! Please!"
Terror-stricken Mugura thrashed, the chair creaking on the verge of collapse.
Luke grimaced, grabbed a nearby rag, and stuffed it in Mugura's mouth.
"Mmph! Gmph!"
"Much better."
Then Owen heard the tale—and it was far grander than expected.
Back when Karaku opposed Hybrid Lord Kaladashyr before fleeing to the Empire.
Mugura had been his hireling, handling army finances.
Owen's jaw dropped.
"Why entrust money to this guy?"
"I get the skepticism. But quick reckoners were rare among orcs. And back then, he had a decent rep. Heard he turned rogue after claiming this island."
Mugura started diligent enough.
The issue? He fled with the funds and treasure at the worst moment.
Karaku's knife-sharpening grew vicious at the memory.
"That was payroll money! Damn it! Of all times."
He'd been at war against Kaladashyr's rise to Great Chieftain.
The tide had turned; tribes flocked to the foe, leaving Karaku struggling to pay his troops.
He'd held them with reputation alone—until it frayed.
"Scraped together war funds at last. Then this bastard steals it all! Grrr! That's what doomed me against the Hybrid Lord."
Incredibly, Mugura's theft forced the undefeated legion commander into exile.
Owen eyed the orc anew.
Karaku was a monster even at my peak. This sneak bankrupted him after earning trust?
Words failed him.
Karaku's strategies were masterful; Owen could've won battles but lost the war.
Yet this glib motormouth broke him.
"Heh..."
Owen chuckled dryly.
He yanked out the gag.
"What'd you do with all that gold?"
"Hahk! Gasp!"
Mugura panted, glancing nervously before answering.
"Bribed my way to ruling this island. All went into the Great Chieftain's pockets. Haha..."
"..."
Silence blanketed the room.
Owen pegged Mugura as utterly shameless.
Screwed the undefeated commander, then bribed his way to the top.
It stung, too—this yapper achieved what even reborn Owen couldn't: Karaku's sole defeat.
Life was absurd.
Owen's shoulders slumped.
Karaku, meanwhile, seethed, eyes ablaze.
"The war was lost anyway! Gold be damned! What about Parma's Axe?!"
He roared like a lion, grabbing Mugura's collar.
"Parma's Axe brings true death to high demons—our ancestors' sacred relic! You had no right to touch it. Where is it?!"
The name jolted Owen.
Orc hero Shata's relic, slayer of the ancient Demon King.
He'd heard tales but never believed it real.
Let alone in Mugura's theft list.
"I-I'll tell you."
"You didn't give it to the Hybrid Lord, did you? If so, this room's your grave."
"No!"
Mugura spilled everything—no skinning needed.
"I hid it well. Between two facing hills."
"Good. Where?"
"After where three streams meet."
"What? Where's that?"
"Follow the buffalo camp."
"..."
Even fellow orcs couldn't parse Mugura's directions.
Karaku's face flushed crimson; frantic Mugura babbled harder.
It only devolved into nonsense.
Finally, Karaku snapped.
"You worm! Fine. I'll hear the rest after flaying you. Watch closely—your hide peeling like apple skin!"
"Eeeeek! I told you everything! Mercy!"
As Karaku's knife neared, Bellatel intervened.
"Enough."
"Even you can't stop me!"
"Not that. This is Owen's place. You'll filthy the floor—bad manners, no?"
He offered to use magic for the truth.
A mess-avoiding excuse, but he stepped up for the stakes.
"Hmph... fair enough. Your help, then."
Karaku relented at the magic miser's aid.
Bellatel's wrinkled hand pressed Mugura's forehead.
"Now, your mind grows foggy."
True to his title, the archmage worked flawlessly.
Mugura resisted briefly, then spilled in a daze.
But the dolt couldn't describe locations clearly.
"From the buffalo camp, three streams meet... rocks there. Turn right..."
More vague loops.
"Makes me wanna bash his skull."
Karaku gnashed his teeth, then sighed in defeat.
Bellatel scratched his head, exasperated.
"Looks like you gotta spare this pest, Karaku. Need a guide, right?"
"Lucky bastard..."
Owen, listening, asked:
"Why seek Parma's Axe now? Demons stirring?"
A touchy topic, but necessary.
Owen suspected demons behind his past tangle with the dark elf queen.
"Seems so..."
Karaku sighed deeply, sheathed his knife, and slumped to the floor.
His seated height matched Owen's standing.
"Benefactor."
"Just Owen, please. Sir Karaku."
"Owen, then. Dark clouds loom over orc futures. The Hybrid Lord's deep in with demons."
"Figured as much. Happened recently."
Owen recounted the turtle dragon incident.
The Great Chieftain repelled it with dark power.
But no orc celebrated—only dismay at their honorable leader's foul magic.
"Hmph... good they see his true face. But banishing such a beast? Demon influence runs deeper than I thought."
Karaku was certain: high demons infiltrated orc leadership.
Hence reclaiming Parma's Axe.
Hearing this, Owen shook his head at the dazed Mugura.
"Stealing funds and the axe at the crucial moment... deserves death."
But Karaku replied unexpectedly.
"Aye, but maybe that's why I'm still alive. Irony of life."
With funds and axe, he'd have fought on—and fallen to demon assassination.
"I'd have won the war—my specialty. But high demons? No defenses back then."
"Now?"
"Got this guy."
He nodded at Bellatel.
The mage grinned at Owen.
"Brat. Thought I was just a drunken old fart waiting to croak in the hills? Ungrateful pup!"
"N-no, I..."
Guilty as charged; Owen winced.
"Whelp, everyone has their role. I stepped back from worldly affairs, but I've been thwarting demons in the Empire."
Owen stared in awe, respect dawning anew.
Who knew? Thought he was a booze-soaked has-been wallowing in shit.
Hiding Karaku in Golden Mountain? Anti-demon alliance, transcending race.
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