Chapter 61
Chapter 61
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 61
Chapter Title: The Orc King's Shadow
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Ares turned his head toward Mercy. He needed to check if she had sensed the source of this odd feeling he'd picked up on, too.
Sure enough, judging by Mercy's expression, she had felt the same incongruity.
"Mercy, you've noticed it too, haven't you?"
"...Yeah. There are all sorts of rabble scattered everywhere..."
Kamit, who had been listening to Ares and Mercy's conversation, spoke up.
"Young Master Ares, Lady Mercy. Is something amiss?"
"Sir Kamit, take another slow look at the monsters' corpses."
"...?"
At Ares's words, Kamit turned his eyes back to the monsters' bodies.
But there were just even distributions of corpses from all sorts.
"If I may be so bold, I don't see any one type standing out in particular..."
"It's the opposite. We're not looking for ones that stand out—we're missing the ones that should be here in droves."
"What do you mean by that...?"
Mercy jumped in to prod Kamit, who still hadn't caught on.
"Kamit, in a monster haven like this, what kind of monster is never in short supply?"
"Well... Ah!"
Only then did it click for Kamit.
Orcs.
The most numerous monsters not just in the Dragon Mountains, but in nearly every remaining monster habitat.
And the most aggressively belligerent of them all.
Yet not a single orc corpse was in sight.
It was too implausible to chalk up to coincidence.
"Something feels off. Unsettling."
Despite the expedition suffering zero casualties, Ares's expression remained grim.
This outcome felt like it heralded the worst-case scenario, against all better hopes.
Even as Ares and Mercy's expedition slowly pushed toward the Forest of Demonic Beasts—widening the path as they went—they never slacked on scouring the Dragon Mountains.
Eliminating threats took priority over speeding ahead into the unknown.
Monsters kept popping up irregularly after that, but they stood no chance against the Shield Family's forces, who were already on guard.
"Hakaren, how's the road construction coming along?"
"The paving itself is progressing smoothly without major issues. We've even finished erecting barriers along the completed stretches to drill the message into their thick skulls... but..."
Hakaren trailed off in response to Ares's question.
And Ares knew exactly what that hesitation meant.
"Still no sign of the orcs?"
"...Yes. No idea where they've all hunkered down—not a single one in sight."
It had been a full week since they began blazing trails through the elves' territory and laying down roads.
They'd cleared a third of the total route, yet Ares's group hadn't spotted a single orc.
Not one.
The implications were crystal clear.
"This orc leader's got some serious command over his troops."
"Not one to underestimate. Controlling all these savage orcs scattered across the Dragon Mountains to this degree? Even in the long history of the continent, that's no common feat."
Hakaren matched Ares's words without dropping his guard.
The Dragon Mountains spanned an area rivaling a small nation's territory.
Among its inhabitants, orcs wielded the broadest influence—thanks not just to their ferocity, but their sheer numbers, more than enough to dominate the range.
The region Ares and Mercy were pioneering toward the Forest of Demonic Beasts was barely the foothills of the Dragon Mountains.
A tiny fraction of the whole.
Even so, developing territory this size without sighting a single orc meant the leader had at least unified every orc in the area.
Jerome's recent exploits had given them a setback, but Ares and Mercy were no incompetents.
If asked to name the scariest monster in the entire Dragon Mountains, both would rank orc megavillages in the top spots.
Ten days into the expedition. Three days further, and still no sign or shadow of orcs.
"Fierce, brutal orcs showing this much restraint in front of a tasty human feast... What do you make of it, Mercy?"
"Well, two things are clear."
Mercy held up her index finger.
"First, it has ironclad control—even over grunts' impulsive outbursts."
Maintaining that discipline from Banten all the way here meant this was already the boss orc's domain. Proof enough of its formidable might.
Mercy extended her middle finger next.
"Second, this boss orc is deliberately avoiding clashes with humans right now. As for why..."
Mercy paused mid-sentence, glancing at Ares.
"...it's gotta be one of two options, right, big brother?"
Ares chuckled at her teasing tone.
"Hah. Even now, testing me? Fine, you're right. One of the two."
"...?"
Ares turned to explain for the baffled Hakaren listening in.
"There are two main reasons the orcs might dodge combat, Sir Hakaren. The hopeful one: a peace-loving orc has taken charge. Though that's more wishful thinking than anything."
Ares smirked even as he said it, clearly deeming it nonsense.
"Then what's the other, Young Master?"
Ares answered Hakaren's question.
"It figures now's not the time to tangle with humans. Whether gathering forces or biding strength, it's holding back until ready. And that second option? That's a real problem. Means it's cunning, too."
"Ooh, as expected of Young Master Ares. Sharp as ever."
Hakaren, who had been nodding in admiration, suddenly followed up.
"So, which seems more likely right now?"
"Obviously..."
"Kreeeek! Halt, kreek! Ra. Humans, kreek!"
As Ares opened his mouth to reply, guttural snorts and broken speech echoed through the forest.
The very monsters absent from the first expedition—and unseen for the past ten days.
Orcs.
* * *
One hand gripped an axe, the other a bloodied blade.
The orcs encircling the expedition clutched an array of savage weapons.
"...As you can see, if it'd been the first option, they wouldn't show up armed to the teeth like this."
As Ares said, the orcs drooled thick strings of saliva at the sight of fresh human meat after so long.
Yet even as they slobbered, they held formation.
Ares and Mercy easily deduced this stemmed from orders by the orc that halted them—no permission to charge yet.
'Like a human army.'
Monsters marching with such discipline.
Clearly, their expanding influence in the Dragon Mountains wasn't mere luck.
"Kreek! This, place. Kreek! Our, land. Kreek! Go, back."
'Go back?'
An orc telling humans to leave upon sight.
How to take that?
"Lady Mercy. What should we do?"
Kamit and Mercy were pondering the same, their murmurs carrying from behind.
Mercy turned to Ares.
"Big brother, what do you make of their behavior?"
Ares gathered his thoughts at her question.
Orcs slobbering greedily.
Eyes brimming with unmistakable malice.
No one could read that as friendly.
'Has to be the second option.'
Shing!
Ares drew his sword and bellowed his decision.
"Brave warriors of Banten! A rabble dares obstruct the feats my brother Jerome achieved for Banten's revival! Shall we tuck tail like whipped dogs at mere monsters' words?!"
Ares's shout was the signal.
The expedition raised their weapons.
"Kreek! Humans, kreek! Regret, kreek! We'll make you. Kreek!"
The orc commander's axe swung forward. With permission granted, the orcs could no longer leash their instincts and charged the expedition.
But.
"Kreeeek!"
"Hurricane Battalion, eliminate the orcs swiftly!"
At Kamit's command, the battalion's mages began chanting.
"Wind Cutter!"
Slash!
"Fireball!"
Whoosh!
It was a one-sided slaughter.
No matter their army-like formation, the expedition was Banten's elite.
A mismatch from the start—in numbers and quality alike.
In some ways, easier than prior monsters.
'Weird. Too easy.'
Thud!
"We've captured one."
As Ares pondered amid wiping orc blood from his blade, knights dragged a live orc before him and forced it to kneel.
"Kreek... kreek..."
Covered head to toe in gore, the orc wheezed raggedly—the same commander who'd barked at Ares moments ago.
The reason for sparing it was obvious.
"Alright, let's talk. Your boss orc—who is it? Where's it hiding, and what's the plan?"
The orc merely rasped and gasped under Ares's interrogation.
Ares glanced at a soldier.
The man saluted crisply and lashed the orc with a whip.
Crack!
Flesh tore free on impact—a gruesome sight by any measure—but Ares didn't flinch.
"Speak. Talk, and I'll end it quick."
Ares upheld chivalry to excess with outsiders, but monsters didn't qualify.
For Banten and the kingdom, torturing a monster or two was trivial.
"Kreek... You, bastards. Will, regret. Kreek. Our... king... comes. Kreek! Definitely."
From the orc's halting words, Ares gleaned much.
First, the orc shaking up the Dragon Mountains was called 'king.'
Implying a force beyond a typical great tribe.
Second, this 'king' was en route.
The orc king's leadership clearly kept tight reins while caring for its own.
This one didn't seem resentful, nor did the slain orcs earlier.
'Decent leadership.'
The orc spat its curse and clammed up.
Looking into its eyes, Ares saw unyielding loyalty—no betrayal coming.
Without another word, he severed its head cleanly.
"Ah, damn it. This is getting seriously messy."
Mercy grumbled, scratching her head furiously.
"Big brother, aren't we screwed? Orcs are weak, sure, but over megavillage size—about a thousand—they'll overwhelm our current forces."
"..."
Even without her saying it, Ares was deep in thought.
"From that pig's words, this point onward is orc-held territory. Just ten days from Banten."
Mercy prodded the brooding Ares impatiently.
Ten days from Banten.
Meaning orc territory encroached to three days from the road.
Building a path under constant raid threat was untenable.
Smooth elven trade? Impossible in that uncertainty.
Mercy argued for withdrawal—no need to push with this wildcard.
Moments later, Ares opened his eyes, voice resolute.
"...Let's go a bit farther. Just a little. We need to at least pinpoint which village the orc king hails from."
The Dragon Mountains' vastness meant orcs didn't cluster in one spot.
Villages rose and fell endlessly.
That was the Dragon Mountains.
Yet some perilous orc groups endured.
Megavillages.
The Shield Family had identified them through relentless clashes: deadly orcs.
Red Axe Tribe.
Black Sickle Tribe.
And Blue Sword Tribe.
Likely more undetected ones lurked.
Thus, identifying the 'king's' tribe would let them infer its power base from locations.
Ares was determined to confirm it.
Perhaps sensing that resolve, Mercy's fine brows furrowed.
"Ugh, seriously. If I'd known it'd tangle this bad, I'd have just gone to the spring festival. What a pain."
Despite her grumbling lips, Mercy didn't oppose Ares's call.
Elven trade was essential for the Carviot Count family—beyond mere merit.