Chapter 14
Chapter 14
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: A Pact with the Orc
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In the hair-trigger standoff, words burst forth that no one could have possibly anticipated. At what I had uttered, the orc, Beskin, and Saladin—all of them—turned to stare at me.
Though they belonged to different factions and races, in that moment, the flicker of emotion in their eyes conveyed the exact same thing.
What the hell is this nonsense? It brimmed with utter bewilderment.
Regardless of their feelings, my judgment left no better alternative.
All the strategies I had considered up to now were based on the premise of exterminating the orc.
Those were plans suited to past lives or scenarios like when the orc had clashed with my brother—pure slaughterfests where conversation was impossible.
But this orc hadn't killed a single one of us since encountering us. For reasons unknown, it didn't seem eager for battle either. And crucially, communication was possible.
In a situation like this...
It might be feasible to chase off the orc and preserve our forces—catching both rabbits at once.
Of course, the orc quickly shook off its astonishment and gripped its axe tighter, eyeing my words with suspicion.
Undeterred, I raised both hands to clearly signal no intent to fight, brushed past Beskin and Saladin, and slowly approached the orc.
"Hey, hey! What are you doing?!"
"Third Young Master, it's dangerous!"
Saladin and Beskin cried out in alarm, trying desperately to stop me, but my advance was a touch quicker.
Step. Step.
After closing a few more paces to the orc, I pulled a vial from my belt and tossed it at its feet.
"It's a healing potion! Not made with holy power, but troll blood refined through magic—so it should definitely work on you. Use it to treat your wounds."
"Hey! Are you insane?!"
"Third Young Master, what in the world?!"
"...!!"
In stark contrast to the shocked reactions from Beskin and Saladin, the orc showed no gratitude for my earnest(?) aid—instead, it glared at me.
"Chiiiik... Hu...man... What... trick...is this...? If you're... stalling...for time... chiiiik... it...won't...work...."
Far from it, the orc seemed convinced I was the one buying time until reinforcements arrived.
"If I were pulling some scheme, that'd be ideal—but unfortunately, it's the truth. Killing a monster like you would cost us heavy losses, and that's a real hassle. Humans have our own circumstances, you see."
I responded calmly to the orc's words, hands still raised, eyes fixed on it.
"And if my instincts are right, you don't really want to fight either. Am I wrong?"
"Chiiiik... Hu...man. You... attacked...first. And now... chiiiik... you want...to negotiate?"
"Has there ever been a time in continental history when humans and orcs talked it out when they met? But if we can communicate and our goals align, why waste energy needlessly?"
The orc didn't exactly agree, but it slowly lowered its war axe in silent assent.
Perfect.
This opened a path to a win-win.
"Chiiiik. Hu...man. You didn't...give me...medicine...for nothing. What...do you want?"
Was its speech getting clearer? Nah, probably just my imagination.
From its reaction, I gleaned two things.
First, though it tried not to show it, it quickly accepted my proposal to halt the fight. Meaning, it too had reasons to want this battle over.
Second, despite being an orc, it perfectly grasped the significance of the potion I'd thrown. In other words, not just some pigment-smeared pig.
Higher-level conversation was possible. Meaning...
"Haha, you shouldn't be asking me that. Instead of us taking losses to eliminate you, what 'something' can you offer to make it 'profitable' for us? I need to hear that before I can 'judge.'"
It understood my demand to propose compensation in negotiations.
"But first, if you use that potion right now, it'd threaten our safety. For mutual trust, how about removing that threat?"
"Chiiiik. Hu...man, don't...pull tricks. How...can I trust...you won't kill me...after?"
Fair suspicion. But...
"If we fight to the end, we'll take losses too—but you'd die regardless. In this situation, why else would I hand over healing medicine and call for a ceasefire?"
"Chiiiik... And if...I refuse?"
"Then no choice. We go to mutual destruction."
"......"
The orc glared at me wordlessly, and I met its gaze unflinchingly.
This was a battle of wills. The outcome here would shape what followed.
Aware of that, Saladin and Beskin readjusted their stances slightly.
Fortunately, it didn't come to that. The orc set down its war axe and cupped its hands—upon which a spherical orb of energy floated up.
"Chiiiik. The unabsorbed...power of the white flower."
To think such power still lingered in that orc's body. If the fight had dragged on, we'd have faced massive casualties.
The orc clenched the formidable energy tightly. It dispersed into the air in wisps.
There must be good reason to forfeit such power just to avoid battle.
Once I nodded, confirming it fully dissipated, the orc picked up the potion.
Slowly, its wounds began to heal.
"Good. Now, separate from ending the fight—what 'price' will you pay for your 'life'?"
Before answering, the orc downed the remaining potion.
Prepping its body to peak condition in case talks broke down, no doubt.
"Chiiiik. Nothing...is more precious...than my life."
Made sense. All it seemed to have were those crude weapons hiding a massive pair of eggs(!) and a ridiculously oversized axe. However...
"Does proving your life's worth have to be limited to 'items'?"
"...Chiiiik. What...do you mean?"
"What do I mean?"
"......?"
The orc paused, not grasping my question at first—then seemed to catch on. As expected, this orc was no fool.
Suddenly, it rummaged in its shabby gear and tossed something my way.
Snatch!
In my hand was a weathered dagger, yet it pulsed with an air of value.
"Chiiiik. Picked it up...hunting in my homeland...long ago. Useless...in battle, so I kept it. Chiiiik. Never thought...I'd use it like this."
Even to my merchant-honed eyes from years running caravans, it felt precious—but surely it wasn't offering this as full payment?
"Chiiiik. Take it...as a token. Show it to orcs...in the Dragon Mountains...anytime, anywhere—they'll aid you once."
The orc spoke with firm conviction.
"I am...the future king...of the Dragon Mountains orcs. This token...guarantees that future."
Dealing with someone who communicates is always a pleasure. In that sense, this orc and I got along surprisingly well.
"Hm, not bad. Deal. But since you're front-loading future value, one more condition."
"Chiiiik. What?"
"Don't eat humans. Ah, north of the Dragon Mountains doesn't count."
If you're gonna be orc king, harass the Holy Empire a bit.
"Chiiiik. Fine."
"Can you stake a warrior's honor on it?"
"Chiiiik. I swear...on the souls of ancestors...in Valhalla."
An orc's Valhalla oath was like a human mage's mana vow—a binding chain. Having invoked it, this orc couldn't break its word.
No mirror, but I knew a satisfied smile spread across my face.
"Good, orc! Now get going. If our knights or soldiers arrive, you won't be able to honor this deal."
If word got out I'd negotiated with an orc, it'd stir up trouble. Fewer who knew, the better—so I urged it on.
But the orc had other ideas. It didn't leave immediately, instead fixing me with its gaze.
"Chiiiik. Hu...man. What's...your name?"
"Why my name?"
"Chiiiik. Answer."
The orc persisted stubbornly.
"I am Jerome von Carviot, third son of the Shield Family of the great Ikenia Kingdom."
I answered to hurry it along.
"Chiiiik. Jerome. I am Hatan. Today...you showed mercy. The conditions...you set will hold...under ancestors' witness in Valhalla."
The orc calling itself Hatan added one more line before I could respond, then departed.
"So wash your neck...and wait. Until the day...I repay your mercy...with my blade."
...Pardon? What was that? Come again?
Saladin burst into roaring laughter at the departing orc's words.
"Puhahaha! What a mess you've made. Showing mercy to an orc? You're in for headaches now."
"What?"
No, Saladin, what are you on about?
"Don't you know orc customs? Those pigs obsess over warrior honor. Receiving mercy? To them, that's humiliation."
Saladin kept laughing obnoxiously. Ugh, should I smash that mouth?
"He'll stick to your terms religiously until he wipes away that humiliation—forgetting it would mean forgetting the shame. Once he does, he's free of the conditions."
"...How does he wipe away the humiliation?"
Saladin ran a thumb across his throat.
"Simple. Slice off the head of the one who showed mercy."
What?! Why didn't you mention something this crucial?!
I confronted the startled Saladin, but he shot back with an infuriating smirk.
"You didn't ask."
Ugh, seriously smash it?
"No need to pursue it?"
Ignoring my banter with Saladin, Beskin asked me directly.
"It's already healed up with the potion—what good would chasing do? Damn it, anyway—no casualties, Mano territory defended. Mission accomplished."
"...Is this the matter you insisted yesterday had to be done, Third Young Master?"
I didn't deny Beskin's question.
"Yes. And this snarky puppet pervert is Viscount Edwin's son, one of the Black Lions—known as the Puppet Master."
"Hey, weird introduction much?"
Ignoring Saladin's retort, I slowly explained everything to Beskin: Saladin's request for aid, our deal, and my ultimate goal in helping him.
"How could this be...! So you deployed a key family asset to defend Mano territory?!"
Beskin exploded in fury.
"Mano is practically a Sword Family stronghold! Deploying family forces here...! One misstep, and we'd have suffered massive losses!"
I replied calmly to the agitated Beskin.
"That's exactly why I didn't tell you."
"Of course! Had I known, I never would have obeyed, Third Young Master!"
"Beskin, yesterday I asked: If family and kingdom interests clashed, what would you do?"
"Yes! This is a perfect clash! How could a family heir candidate invite such risk?!"
"Then remember what followed?"
I didn't wait for Beskin's reply.
"I asked what you'd do if they aligned. You must recall the rest: Look far ahead, think far ahead."
By now, the Blizzard Knight Order and soldiers approached from afar.
"Soon, you'll understand what those words mean."