Orc Tribe's Turmoil
"You... you're close with the empire's new emperor, aren't you?"
Back inside the tent, the words Batar spoke the moment they sat down were enough to throw Tiny off balance.
"Well..."
Tiny's eyes darted around at the completely unexpected question. He'd played a part in overcoming the chaos at the imperial palace and had received overly generous gifts as a result. But from their first meeting, he'd slapped the emperor across the face, and he even knew that the crown prince had killed the previous emperor. There was still a lingering unease. They hadn't opened up to each other, but it was a mutually beneficial relationship. Could that really be called close?
"...I wouldn't call it close. We're just tied together by official ties, something like that."
Perhaps because they'd had a good, honest spar earlier, the words came out straightforwardly. But at that, Batar bared his teeth in a booming laugh.
"Kuhaha! That means you are close. Good thing."
Tiny stared at him in bewilderment.
"Who else but a close friend would dare speak to the imperial emperor like that? 'Not that close'? 'Official ties'? Kuhahahaha!"
I-Is that how it works?
The boisterous laughter only deepened Tiny's confusion. Glancing sideways, he saw Garen wearing an equally dumbfounded expression, staring back at him. Tiny quickly schooled his features and pressed on hurriedly.
"Whatever you think is fine, but why ask something like that out of the blue?"
"Ah, right. Not the time for laughing. You must have guessed I sought you out on purpose, yes? It's... hmm..."
Batar took a deep breath, hardening his fierce face once more and lowering his voice.
"Tiny Morse, Light Knight who saved the empire from calamity, hero of the realm. I want to ask you: is the Aslan Empire preparing for war?"
"Morse...? Eh?"
Tiny, about to correct him on the surname again, froze at the words that followed, his face going blank.
What nonsense is this?
He whipped around to Garen, who looked just as baffled, staring at Batar.
"Chieftain, what do you mean by that all of a sudden?"
"You don't know?"
"First I've heard of it. Why bring up something like that?"
"First you've... what? Ah, you mean you don't know? Hmm, so the empire isn't, then?"
Tiny and Garen could only tilt their heads in utter confusion before the lost-in-thought Batar. He soon scowled and continued.
"Turmoil is brewing in orc lands right now. The Black Rhino tribe—our cousins of sorts—is calling for orc unification and preparing for war."
That made Tiny and Garen tilt their heads again, though for a different reason this time.
"War is everyday life for orcs... Ah, sorry."
"No need to apologize, Sir Garen. War is honor for orcs. What the chieftain's saying defies common sense."
Tiny backed Garen up, shooting Batar a sullen look. Indeed, orcs engaged in brutal survival competitions with neighboring tribes through great warrior duels to determine the strongest, tribal wars, or hunts. When rivalries intensified, entire tribes were wiped out—a common occurrence that explained why orcs, with their sturdy bodies, rarely lived past fifty.
Dying in bed is a warrior's shame. So when an orc warrior sensed his own decline with age, he'd seek out a battlefield to die fighting.
I'd probably do the same.
No need to recall Zerik's words—even without that, it was common knowledge that duels and wars were the leading causes of death for orcs.
That's exactly the problem.
He and the Sword Emperor had racked their brains over how to prevent the orcs' worst civil war in a few years—what pretext, what justification—but came up empty.
An orc worried about war?
Absurd.
And what does that have to do with the empire?
Meeting Tiny's sharp gaze, Batar gave a wry smile and added,
"That's a different story. A few nearby tribes banding together to overthrow the entire orc race? That's something else entirely. Doesn't suit orcs at all."
Batar let out a heavy sigh, fixing them with a grave look.
"And if it's all the scheme of some outsider lurking among them? That would be the worst."
"Outsider?"
"Humans. There are humans with Black Rhino chieftain Nergui. My judgment is they're the ones inciting this un-orc-like talk of alliances and strategies to stir up war."
Humans?
As the stunned Tiny mustered a rebuttal—
"Humans inciting an orc tribe's war?"
Garen spoke first, his brown eyes gleaming.
"Yes. And I suspected they were agents sent by the empire."
Garen's face hardened. It wasn't an impossible notion.
The allied kingdoms were the empire's greatest threat in the east, the beastkin kingdom Wearbeast in the north, and orcs the biggest menace in the western empire. That was common knowledge among imperials.
A memory surfaced in Tiny's mind at those words. The ravings of the dead X-god—no, the previous emperor.
The continent will unify under the empire's name. And you will lead, claiming all glory...
Did that madman set something in motion beforehand?
For a moment, it seemed all too plausible, but Tiny shook his head.
"...Absolutely not."
"Sir Tiny?!"
"Hoo?"
Garen gaped at him in shock, while Batar's eyes widened with interest.
"The previous emperor might have, but the current one doesn't want war. Nor does the empire as a whole."
Even if not, I'll make it so. The Sword Emperor, Aura User and emperor's father-in-law, will ensure it.
Tiny spoke firmly, his faith in his old comrade shining through.
"I stake my honor on it. The empire now would never do such a thing."
"Sir Tiny!?"
Garen cried out in horror. You refused even to affiliate with the empire! On what authority do you say that!? His bulging eyes screamed what he couldn't voice.
But Batar chuckled and raised his fist.
"Hmm, 'used to be, but not anymore'... That's how it sounds?"
"...That's my guess."
"Sir Tiny! Why make promises you can't keep...!?"
"Good. I believe you."
"Chieftain!?"
Garen couldn't follow the erratic exchange.
"Tongues can lie, but fists are honest. Sir Tiny's fighting style is that of a true man. If he stakes his honor, I believe him. Sdyktaa vtdpsh!"
...What the hell are these lunatics?
Who are you to discuss international affairs!?
Suppressing the urge to yell, Garen stared in disbelief, but the two ignored him completely. Tiny grinned and bumped his fist against Batar's massive one.
"Sdyktaa vtdpsh! (For friends!)"
"Hoo, you know that too?"
"Got a good friend."
"Hahaha, really? Makes me trust you even more."
"...You two seem equally insane."
Garen's grumbling went unheard as Tiny and Batar exchanged well-wishes.
That evening, Batar threw a grand feast for them, and the Red Boar tribe's shaman even healed Garen's beloved mount, Sandra, allowing them to depart Zamingwood the very next day. And with thoughtful consideration to boot.
"Heard you're heading to Elvenheim. Chieftain's orders. I'll escort you through orc territory."
Tiny and Garen could only muster awkward smiles at the orc female warrior—about 180cm tall.
"Ah..."
"Ha, ha..."
And understandably so. A muscular beauty with green skin and flickering red tattoos was aiming her spear at them with hostile eyes. It sounded less like an escort and more like a challenge to fight.
Moreover, her name was Narn, patrol captain of the Red Boar tribe—and the warrior who'd offered Tiny a warrior's token.
"You don't mean another duel right now...?"
"Probably not. But orcs fight among themselves daily, and she's offering to guide us through another tribe's territory...?"
As Garen and Tiny frowned for different reasons, Narn snorted and stepped forward, having overheard.
"Hmph. Don't worry, humans. Our tribe gets along well with the hill orc tribes."
But to them, that was even more absurd.
Orcs 'get along well' with neighboring tribes?
The two, well-versed in orc combat culture, exchanged grim looks. Seeing their expressions, Narn scowled and emphasized,
"Our chieftain is the greatest warrior and leader. He doesn't want pointless sacrifices from wasteful battles. Sparring and hunts are enough to test warriors' skills. That's why our tribe has grown this big."
They had to concede that point with admiration.
"Oho. Batar really is impressive."
"Ah..."
And that's when Tiny finally realized the source of the subtle dissonance he'd felt during their 1-night, 2-day stay in Zamingwood.
"He wasn't there..."
"Hm?"
"No, nothing."
He'd just now noticed the simple fact: he'd never seen Batar in his previous life.
Meaning this standout figure had died before the calamity struck.
Likely due to the orc civil strife.
Still a few years off, but...
The thought made Batar's words weigh on him anew.
Humans hiding among the orcs...
Probably the previous emperor's doing. He doubted the crown prince would continue it.
"...I need to contact Valentia. Where can I communicate from?"
Tiny whispered to Garen, low enough that the leading Narn wouldn't hear.
And then—
"So even you're uneasy about your bold guarantee, huh?"
Garen grinned and thumped his chest.
No, that's not it...
"Don't worry. I figured as much and already asked a Red Boar friend to relay the chieftain's words to my family."
"...Pardon?"
"You know orcs developed a unique magic system called shamanism instead of proper magic? It has its strengths, but no magical communication. So I asked a friend."
"Wait, you have a friend in the Red Boar tribe?"
Hadn't he said just yesterday that the orcs here weren't friendly to humans?
But Garen nodded without a hint of issue under Tiny's skeptical gaze.
"Of course. The hearty fellow I met at last night's feast. I asked him, so it'll reach my family soon."
"Last night...?"
"When hearts connect, they're friends. Does friendship need time? He'll handle it fine. Hey, what's with that look? Just trust me. Or if not him, trust me!"
I trust neither of you...
Tiny could only reply to Garen's assurance with an awkward smile.