Yes, Everything Has Changed
"Half?"
Tiny echoed in surprise, and Zerik gave a wry smile.
"Yeah. Our kind doesn't pull back to the rear just because of rank. Whether it was the top brass of the eight tribes or the lowliest warriors, about half of everyone dropped dead. The worst death toll in centuries."
The orc tribal war had erupted less than 100 days ago. For a conflict that happened once every century or so among orcs, this one was unusually short—but the scale of devastation was unprecedented.
"How the hell?!"
"Demon worshippers who infiltrated the Black Rhino tribe must've played dirty. They rigged it so everyone else would go down with them."
"So, how exactly?"
"I don't know the details."
Tiny swallowed his frustration at Zerik's twisted expression, barely holding back his boiling anger. Honestly, Zerik had to be even more pissed.
Thud.
"The ones you captured only spat that much. Said it was a shame they failed. Those filthy bastards...!"
The killing intent laced through Zerik's heavy stomp and growl pressed down on the air inside the temporary tent like a weight.
In that atmosphere.
"...No wonder a 5-to-3 war felt so brutal. The power gap between tribes wasn't that big."
Batar, chieftain of the Red Boar tribe, forced a bitter smile as he spoke up.
"Heh, I thought our tribe fought so bravely... "
"Nudar, speak when it fits the situation."
"You thought the same, didn't you, Tenger?"
"Shut it! Or speak in Orcish. Humans are watching—Tsyrk mlaadk z... (embarrassing... )."
The chieftains of the Red Lizard and Blue Lion tribes bickered over something trivial, but no one in the tent paid them any mind.
All the orc representatives were gathered here—except the four chieftains who'd been played by Nergui—but in the end, Zerik spoke for them all. They didn't even bat an eye at Tiny addressing Zerik so casually with banmal.
"So, no other intel from the interrogations?"
"You told me those scum can't tell the truth, so ask the opposite."
"I did."
"Seems the interrogating warriors didn't get it right. They got pissed when it didn't work and beat them all to death."
Tiny's jaw dropped at Zerik's absurd answer.
"Sorry."
"That's not something to apologize to me for..."
"But the rotting corpses are proof enough. Soon, all orcs will band together to hunt down those demon worshippers."
Tiny couldn't add anything more as he met Zerik's blazing eyes. He'd never really expected much from demon worshippers bound by curses anyway.
"...Yeah."
He just nodded weakly.
Noticing his demeanor, Zerik forced a smile and gestured to the chieftains in the tent.
"Come on, chieftains. Express your gratitude to the benefactor who saved the orc race from ruin. A clear debt of honor brings true value to our name."
Batar was first, bowing with a grin.
"Sir Tiny, the Red Boar tribe will never forget the grace of the Light Knight."
"Red Lizard tribe too. Won't forget human friend."
"The Blue Lion tribe as well. Light Knight. We won't forget."
It was a sight to behold—the stiff-necked orc leaders, famous for their honor-bound ways, bowing one after another.
"Just greetings? No gifts?"
Luna Morse's sudden quip from the side froze the tent's atmosphere.
Tiny hurriedly stepped in front of her, waving his hands.
"S-Sis! You can't say that!"
"Why?"
"Orcs who value honor don't give material gifts for true great favors. They believe it cheapens the debt to the gift's mere worth."
"So, just words?"
Luna tilted her head innocently, twisting the chieftains' faces even more awkwardly. They looked like they neither laugh nor cry.
Then she drove the nail in.
"Transcendent Weapon level, not cheapened. Right?"
Everyone gaped as she blatantly pointed at Zerik's Transcendent Weapon, Honor.
"Sis!!!???"
Tiny yelled first, his mouth agape in shock, but Luna just frowned and shook her head.
"Tiny, my brother, lost weapon. Blunt and axe, no big difference. That enough pay. My brother worth that much."
She wagged her index finger calmly in her signature choppy tone, saying her piece. Zerik's face twisted in fury, and the watching chieftains mirrored him.
"Honor—Hundetkel in our tongue—is an orc treasure. And only orcs can wield it. It's a shame I can't repay my friend and benefactor directly, but I swear on my honor."
Zerik continued gravely, like a declaration.
"Great debts are repaid not with goods, but with life. That's the orc way. I vow it won't fall short of Honor, human woman."
Everyone watched Luna more tensely than the man himself.
After staring into Zerik's small eyes for a long moment, Luna nodded easily, as if sensing something.
"Yeah. Got it, orc man."
"...?"
The room froze, baffled by her reply. Even Tiny stared blankly.
Jenas's stifled chuckle broke the silence—he'd been watching impassively till then.
"Ah, ahem. Sorry."
Thankfully, the orc great warrior didn't take it as provocation.
"Ahem. Yeah. Good if you get it."
Zerik nodded with a look of enlightenment and turned away. The other orcs hurriedly followed him out.
Only then could Tiny sigh and sit comfortably.
But his mind wasn't at ease.
'I stopped the orcs' downfall... but at half their number...'
Half a success, maybe—but the rough path there was the real issue. Right after regression, the first total loss of control, patched up in a frenzy.
A sigh escaped him.
"That 'prediction' of yours loses meaning now, doesn't it, Tiny? Right?"
Jenas voiced his exact sentiment from the side.
"...Yes."
That was the biggest problem.
'The future I knew is totally screwed.'
No clue on the next disasters or tasks.
'And the remaining ones are vague on timing and triggers anyway.'
His mind went blank. Superior-grade achievements, pride in half-saving the orcs—all buried under the void.
Sensing it, Jenas chuckled softly.
"His Grace had a message before we set out."
"...Yes?"
"You've changed much already—done enough. Even if things go wrong, don't blame yourself."
"Ah..."
"Let me add to His Grace's words. Tiny, you've achieved something tremendous."
He glanced at Luna beside him.
"Even knowing 'that story.' Superior-grade already? Won't you be 15 by winter's end? Don't push yourself so hard. Time's on your side—you've done plenty."
Er...
"And His Grace also said... 'Don't try solving everything alone if you're not the sharpest. Enjoy your feats, take pride in them. You deserve it. Leave the rest to others.'"
Ha...?
"For reference, that's rare high praise from him. And he said it before this wrapped up—thinking you were just Blader-grade."
Jenas wagged a finger playfully. The Sword Emperor's face overlapped, stirring a surge of emotion in Tiny's chest—indescribable, but it cleared the stuffy fog in his head. His eyes even stung a bit.
"Ahem. Smoke must've seeped in."
He looked up at the ceiling, reining in his feelings.
'Yeah, I've done well.'
In his past life, he hadn't escaped Philes at this age. Compared to that, now? Superior-grade, 4th-stage spirit sorcerer, and manifesting an unbelievable Soul Weapon he'd only dreamed of.
Keep growing like this, and he'd surpass his past self.
Yeah.
'What was I even worrying about? Ha...'
One goal.
"...All I gotta do is smash the Demon King's skull."
Reducing sacrifices beforehand would be nice, but unavoidable ones weren't his fault. He'd still thwarted the orcs' total fall this time.
'Since when did I handle everything perfectly?'
Light Knight. He'd gotten drunk on the nobler present-life title over Mighty Knight.
Realizing that refocused him. His past-life oath as a freelance knight resurfaced.
"Not a guardian of good, but a breaker of evil. I'll choose ferocity over nobility—so the truly noble can be free."
Probably the enfeoffer's whim. For a mercenary-like freelance knighthood, they insisted on cheesy vows—he'd torn it up and made his own.
"...What?"
Jenas eyed him oddly, like he'd heard something weird. Yeah, childish words—embarrassing now.
"Heh heh. Something like that."
But it lightened his heart.
Then.
"Your eyes look better. So, His Grace's addendum."
"Hm?"
"If you can't think of the next step, come to the Empire with Jenas. I'll make work for you."
"Eh...?"
Jenas's eerie smile mirrored the Sword Emperor's, snapping Tiny alert.
"...What would I be doing?"
"No idea. His Grace said you'd choose."
Instantly, the Sword Emperor's rotten grin flashed—definitely a trap.
'But I really have no clue what to do next.'
Werebeast civil war: unknown timing. Dwarf-elf war: Estina would mediate. Alliance war: Empire's strength lowers odds. Other disasters: vague causes and times.
"...No. Even if I knew, it'd all be changed now?"
"Probably."
Jenas shrugged annoyingly.
'Walk into the trap myself?'
He pondered seriously—until Luna jabbed his side.
"Tiny, all this, what talk?"
"Ah, uh... haha, later, Sis."
"Now. Only I, don't know."
Hurt at being left out. Luna's face barely changed, but after days together, Tiny could read her a bit.
But explaining from scratch? Words stuck.
He realized something he'd forgotten amid the chaos.
'She thinks I'm blood kin.'
Time to tell her.
But facing her big, clear amethyst eyes full of pure emotion, words faltered.
How mad would she get?
'...Still gotta do it.'
Tiny took a deep breath, calming himself.
"Sis—no, Luna Morse. Truth is, I have a confession."
"Hm?"
"I'm not Morse blood. I said that back then for a reason..."
The Reaper was a trusted comrade despite past friction. He'd segue into regression quick—
"What that mean?"
Luna cut him off with a hardened face before he could continue.