Chapter 28
Chapter 28
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: The Forest Grows Rowdy
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The forest grows rowdy.
Mountain birds, asleep in the dark night, take flight with a flutter, and mingled screams of humans and beasts echo in tandem.
At the center.
“The wheel has turned.”
Crimson eyes glowing.
Muscles bulging with swollen veins.
This greenskin giant over two meters tall.
The orc warrior, mounted on his beast, looks down at Kallias and growls something.
White breath trails long from his mouth.
“If you’re a warrior, then fight.”
A voice like dragging a wooden plank across a sword.
Low and gravelly words follow in succession.
“This land will be our battlefield.”
“My lord… what’s that bastard saying?”
“He wants to fight.”
A language utterly incomprehensible.
Yet Kallias could hear it.
Thanks to [Bard’s Blessing], he grasped the rough meaning from the tone and cadence.
What the orc said boiled down to this.
‘The wheel has turned.’
If you’re a warrior too, fight me.
This land is our battlefield.
Plain words, but the intent came through clear and certain.
Thud—!
The orc leaps down from his beast, grips an axe in both hands, and charges.
Whoosh—thwack!
“Kyaaak!”
The orc’s arm blurs, hurling the axe in one motion.
At the same instant, one of Emily’s maids takes the hit.
The force of the throw slams into eardrums with a bursting sound.
‘Fast.’
One orc warrior matches five grown men in strength, and their axe swings can kill three in a single blow—no exaggeration.
“Ooh!!”
The orc warrior leaps.
Immense leg power sends his massive frame soaring high; he grips the axe with both hands.
The blade in his grasp is double-edged.
A massive two-headed axe.
He swings to cleave Kallias’s head in two.
Kwaaang—!!
“Ugh.”
Kallias channels holy power on instinct to dodge the axe, and right before his eyes, a brilliant red bonfire erupts.
Sparks flare bright for an instant, stinging his eyes before dying down; the orc warrior barrels through, trampling the embers.
“Y-you wastrel!! Why are there orcs here!? They’re…”
“No time for questions. Brans.”
“Yes! Y-yes, my lord!!”
“Take Emily and run.”
“B-but my lord…!”
“He wants a fight.”
A duel to the death.
What the orc craves is a strong foe to battle. Kallias.
“I can’t leave you alone!”
“Lady Emily! This way, please!”
“Wastrel Kallias!! Let go!”
Emily shakes off the maid’s grasp and stumbles over.
Her face more resolute, she draws her own sword and stands by Kallias.
“You’ll just get in the way.”
“The orcs are raiding the entire White Forest anyway. I know that. I’m not a child. I’m a Jerban. I’m not some idiot who doesn’t get it, so you don’t need to explain!”
“And your conclusion is…?”
“I’ll handle the beast. If you die, we all die anyway.”
Fair point, really.
The wheel had already turned.
Orcs swarmed the White Forest, clashing with knights everywhere.
Even if Brans and one maid fled with Emily, they couldn’t outrun orcs mounted on beasts.
“This land will be our battlefield.”
“Talk about nonsense.”
“What’s he saying?”
The orc sees Emily’s spirit and praises her as a warrior too despite her youth, granting her honor.
Of course, meaning he’ll kill her all the same.
Kallias draws his sword.
A blade riddled with holes.
Devouring Sword—Roas.
“Magic sword!!”
“You recognize it.”
The orc roars at the sight of Roas.
Likely because it’s a magic sword.
“Emily.”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t jump in first. Stay quiet and watch if you can. Unlike me.”
You have talent.
Ta-at—!
Kwaaaang—!
The clash of sword and axe booms—not like metal on metal, more like an explosion—and Emily staggers.
But that’s not the end.
Relentless sword strikes follow without mercy.
Kallias’s blade seems to multiply into dozens, matched by the orc’s axe. Shockwaves and deafening noise batter the body.
Yet Emily, though staggered once, doesn’t look away.
The young Jerban engraves it all with wide eyes.
In the brutal fight, the young Ashen doesn’t miss the elegant petals fluttering amid the violence.
* * *
Crack!
Orphin crushes the beast’s head underfoot and flicks blood from her sword.
At her side, Killaban stares at his bracelet, tapping it with his index finger: tap, tap-tap-tap.
Each time, it glimmers.
Like some signal.
Orphin’s eyes narrow for a split second.
“Lord Killaban.”
“Hm, Orphin. How’s the situation?”
“We need to retreat now. The beasts were acting strange—turns out it’s an orc raid.”
An orc raid.
Ill omens.
Orcs rarely launched such large-scale tactical ambushes. For them to strike first like this…
No time to stand idle.
They had to return to the castle, report, and launch a counterattack.
Only then would the north’s pride stand firm.
“Hm, I see.”
Yet Killaban’s face remains calm, for some reason.
As heir to Jerban blood, he should rage at an orc raid.
Knights hunting beasts in the White Forest lay dead in droves from the assault; survivors still fought.
Even as they spoke, northern blood soaked the snow.
‘Why is he so…’
Why so composed?
Composed to the point of seeming leisurely in Orphin’s eyes.
“We should issue the retreat order and head to the castle.”
“Why?”
“The situation’s off. Orcs appearing now feels suspicious.”
No orcs had ever appeared during the rowdy hunting festival.
At most, one or two bloodthirsty stragglers.
This strategic ambush was unprecedented.
“Hm…”
Killaban stares at his bracelet for a long while.
Precisely, the strange gem embedded in its center.
‘An artifact… to contact the count?’
But Orphin’s guess fades as Killaban speaks.
“First, we leave the forest.”
“To the castle…?”
“No, not the castle. We hole up somewhere for now.”
“…”
“This isn’t normal. We don’t know their goal. Whether this raid is a one-off or the start of a prolonged war—it’s unclear. Better to hide, observe their movements, then act.”
“Then…”
“Jaybarshu has the Jerbans. No need to worry, Orphin.”
“But!”
Thud! Killaban kicks Orphin’s shin.
“Guh!”
“This is wartime. As next head of Jerban, I hold full authority. Disobeying orders means immediate execution.”
Orphin says no more.
She merely pretends not to hear the bracelet’s rhythmic vibrations.
* * *
Screeech! Boom!
“Fun!!”
“Like a wild boar.”
The attacks are endlessly monotonous.
Yet each blow shakes the ground and Kallias.
Raw physical specs plus reckless abandon—never dodging—made the orc tricky for Kallias.
Silver Flower Sword Wave.
His swordplay favors speed and illusion.
Fast strikes emphasizing velocity, flashy feints to deceive the eye.
The style was made to face stronger foes, after all.
But fighting the orc, Kallias realizes.
‘It’s not working.’
It doesn’t faze them.
Because of their nature.
Orcs are berserkers who fear no blade.
Instincts unswayed by death, focused solely on killing with their axes.
A style ignoring self-preservation.
Reason they’re called savages.
So Kallias struggles a bit.
The orc’s axe rivals Devouring Sword—Roas in caliber; wielding it is no disgrace to the warrior title.
The double-headed axe shows no nicks even after fierce clashes; the orc’s dense muscles feel like kicking stone.
Orcs.
Mob fodder in other tales or games, but not on the Pilgrim’s Path.
Warriors with superior physiques and pride to humans.
Heterorace wanderers braving death in service to the Axe God, Kun-Tar.
That is the orc.
“Hup!”
Chaaang!
Screeeeech!
Kallias, pushed back, hunches and steps forward again.
‘Dragging this out won’t end well.’
More orcs must be closing in even now.
Time’s not on my side.
End it quick.
The full bloom of his dantian unfolds.
Rising energy blooms pure holy power through his body.
Each step builds acceleration.
Ta-at! Ta-at! Paang!
“Fool!!”
The orc warrior screams in delight as his axe arcs overhead.
Just what Kallias hoped; he thrusts Roas forward.
Kwaang—!
The orc’s axe slams down on Roas.
Delight turns to bewilderment on the orc’s grinning face.
Roas is bait.
Kallias’s left hand grips Noble Sword—Lusen in reverse grip.
Slash!
Releasing Roas, Kallias draws Lusen to sever the orc’s leg, then rights the blade to his throat.
“Excellent.”
No fear in the orc’s praising eyes.
Only relief.
“You too.”
Slice.
Kallias reaches for the falling orc’s corpse.
But only for a moment.
His gaze freezes midair.
[Wheel of Patalite.]
-Evade the deathly fate spilled from destiny.
-Survive.
-Repel the orc raid.
-Orcs slain: 1
-???
<Reward> [F]-???
“Killing one doesn’t change it.”
Despite the hard fight.
Kallias eyes the orc warrior’s body, reaches out, then withdraws.
‘Need to conserve holy power.’
Even with the bracelet’s reserves, who knows what’s coming.
Better safe.
Besides, swords aplenty.
“Wastrel! Don’t just stand there!”
Kallias pauses mid-sheathe of Lusen and Roas.
“No rest, huh.”
The orc’s tamed beast snarls, baring fangs.
Kallias stands by Emily, facing the beast with Roas at ready, and dives back in.
Thud—!
He fells the beast without much trouble; the quest window shifts.
-Orcs slain: 1
-Beasts slain: 1
-???
Slaying the beast counts it too.
Every action in this forest now tallies toward the quest rank.
“Wastrel. What was that swordplay?”
“No need to know.”
“…….”
Ignoring her puffed cheeks, Kallias circulates his full bloom to slowly expand his senses.
‘Risky, but…’
He must fight as much as possible.
Or the reward, even maxed, would be worthless.
Quest just once.
Ways to raise rank abound, but he knows the simplest, most efficient.
Can’t waste this chance.
Resolved, Kallias strides into the forest.
“M-my lord! Where are you going!?”
“Where!? Are you insane!? Why go that way! Die alone if you want!”
Like walking to his own grave, yet he doesn’t stop.
He heads toward the screams as if it’s natural.
“Pretending to be a noble now, wastrel!? Off to save them!?”
Kallias finally halts and turns to the inexplicably furious Emily.
“I’m no noble.”
For his sword, he’d do anything.
“I’m just a pilgrim.”