The Sixth Study - Great Chieftain Belkan (3)
The desert orcs’ tents were, for the most part, simple and practical. After all, they were a people who had to move between oases and grasslands to tend their herds.
Yet the Great Chieftain’s tent was as grand and luxurious as a palace. Its size rivaled that of a respectable mansion, and the interior was filled with countless ornaments. The frame supporting the tent was made of Drakma wood blessed by the elemental spirits, and the roof was crafted from the hide of the Sandworms that ruled the Great Wasteland.
‘A deliberate display of authority.’
I am one who has received the blessing of the elemental spirits.
I have hunted Sandworms and proven my prowess.
‘The ornaments are trophies he collected himself.’
Crafts made from the remains of various beasts stood out, and displayed at the front were the weapons and armor of the warriors Great Chieftain Belkan had defeated.
‘Pass.’
Every orc civilization revered martial prowess and took pride in displaying trophies. However, the nature of a tribe could be discerned by what exactly they chose to boast about.
‘The desert orcs display equipment rather than body parts or prisoners. That means they hold a certain respect for their enemies, and it suggests they share some emotional common ground with the people of the Essil Kingdom.’
If they shared that emotional ground?
Then exchange and coexistence would be possible.
Lore Acquired: Desert Orcs!
Experience +10
Lore Points +1
Progress to Next Level: 75/100
Current Lore Points: 18
“Who the hell are you?”
The black-tusked orc warrior who had been confronting the Great Chieftain shot me a fierce glare. His ogre-like bulk and ballooned muscles were impressive.
“How dare a human spell-slinger—!”
“He is our guest, Blacktusk.”
The Great Chieftain spoke in a languid tone, lowering the warhammer he had been lifting.
“Welcome.”
Great Chieftain Belkan rose from the Sand Throne and descended the steps. In no culture did a monarch leave his throne to personally greet a guest. It was a clear sign of just how desperately Belkan had been waiting for me.
“I am Tellorian, the Grey Sage.”
“It is good to meet you, Great Chieftain Belkan.”
When I offered my hand, Belkan accepted it with a pleased expression. This too was another mark of respect. In both status and age, Belkan far outranked me.
“Before we speak,”
I glanced at the orc officers who were staring at me with icy hostility. I could understand their position. After all, the entire diplomatic delegation had arrived in a rather pitiful state.
“It would be best to resolve your internal conflict first.”
“Haha. Showing such an unseemly sight to a guest.”
Great Chieftain Belkan gave an awkward laugh and glared at his officers. Yet the officers refused to back down, only returning suspicious looks.
‘Fools! Even if we quarrel among ourselves, we must present a united front when outsiders are present! Only then can our race maintain its dignity!’
Division had always been the chronic ailment of the orc race. If they had been able to unite under a single leader, they would never have been driven into the Great Wasteland or forced to suffer humiliation at human hands.
“Hmph!”
Blacktusk, who had read the Great Chieftain’s thoughts, snorted.
“There are still parts of your judgment I find suspicious… but I must acknowledge the merit of uniting the fractured tribes and forging them into a great army.”
Thud!
He turned, stomping heavily.
“No matter what schemes our Great Chieftain may be plotting, for now we will follow him. Brothers and sisters.”
As Blacktusk turned to leave, the rest of the officers followed him out of the tent. The taut tension finally eased, and Great Chieftain Belkan’s expression softened as well.
“Let us dispense with formalities.”
“In that case, we shall take our leave. O Great King of the Desert Orcs.”
Lucifeles offered a polite bow and led the other delegates out of the tent. They would now work to persuade the chieftains who supported Belkan.
“Then…”
Great Chieftain Belkan personally brewed a cup of sand-colored tea. Considering his status was nearly equal to that of a king, this was the highest possible courtesy.
“Let us speak candidly, Sage.”
“Please delay the invasion, Great Chieftain.”
“Delay the invasion.”
Easy to say, difficult to do. Hundreds of thousands of tribesmen had already gathered, consuming vast amounts of supplies every day. It was only logical to launch the offensive before disease spread and water and food ran out.
“Will you explain the situation?”
Nevertheless, Great Chieftain Belkan interlaced his fingers and calmly asked for an explanation. If he had been determined to go to war no matter what, he would not have summoned a sage.
“Soon, a dynastic change will occur in Essil. That will naturally bring changes to their policy toward other races…”
I spread out a map.
“The war will take a more restrained form.”
“So war cannot be avoided.”
Tap. Tap.
Belkan drummed his fingers on the table.
“Then why must we wait?”
“Because that is the only way to prevent the extinction of the orc race. And I am not speaking only of the desert orcs. I mean your entire species.”
…Great Chieftain Belkan met my gaze with calm eyes. Countless doubts must have flashed through his mind, yet he did not voice them.
“…Very well. I will believe this is not a threat.”
However.
His attitude changed from before.
“Still, no matter how generously I interpret your claim, there are many parts I cannot accept. If you truly are a sage, you will acknowledge that my doubts are reasonable.”
I nodded in agreement. If a famous orc shaman had appeared at a human council claiming that humanity would go extinct unless they followed his guidance, would they have believed him so easily?
Of course not.
Our positions were the same.
“I have a few questions.”
“Ask as many as you like.”
“What is the name of the new dynasty you intend to establish?”
“Harrington-Arsil, or possibly Harrington-Narbon.”
The Great Chieftain stroked his chin, carefully weighing the meaning. Meanwhile, I sipped my tea and enjoyed the moment. For orcs living in the Great Wasteland, sandroot tea was an essential. It prevented dehydration and supplied various nutrients unavailable in the desert.
Lore Acquired: Orc Culture!
Experience +5
Progress to Next Level: 80/100
Current Lore Points: 18
“The Harrington family is a border marquis house, is it not?”
“Correct.”
“Then how could they possibly become the royal family?”
It was complicated. I simplified it.
“There is no such thing as an eternal dynasty.”
“I agree.”
“Likewise, there is no house that serves forever. The border becomes the center, and the center is pushed back to the border. That is the flow of history.”
Countless powers had risen and fallen over the long ages. In the beginning the dragons shaped the world, only to be overthrown by the elves. Then the orcs conquered the world. And after the Century of Blood, the age of humanity arrived.
“So.”
Great Chieftain Belkan was a rather unusual figure. In his youth he had immersed himself in the traditions of the desert orcs, and in his younger days he had lived among humans, absorbing a wide range of wisdom and skills. He had explored every corner of the Empire and the North.
Thanks to that, he had learned.
The ways of humans.
The strength of the human race.
“Will the age of humanity last forever?”
“It most certainly will not.”
I declared it firmly.
Tellorian did.
“However, it will last for the remainder of our lifetimes.”
“Ha! This war is to our advantage!”
Great Chieftain Belkan declared just as firmly.
“You know what preparations I have made to end the age of humanity! If you wish to delay the opening of hostilities, then give me proof, mage!”
The Great Chieftain’s voice rose with anger. He had spent his entire life preparing with superhuman patience for this golden opportunity to topple the age of man.
“…”
I looked into Belkan’s eyes, which burned like the desert sun. He was a supreme warrior favored by the elemental spirits and one of the greatest strategists on the continent. In the route where players assisted him, he even managed to capture the imperial capital.
‘However.’
…He was also a true leader who placed the safety of his people first, a middle-aged man who worried for the future of the young, and above all, a loving father. He did not want to bequeath another Century of Blood to his children.
‘There is room for persuasion.’
I had to make him understand.
That there was no chance of victory.
A truth he knew but did not want to accept.
‘To convince him of this…’
Cold logic alone would not be enough.
First, I had to share an emotional bond.
By emphasizing that I was not speaking as a [human], but as a [mage].
“I understand how you feel, Great Chieftain.”
“You understand us?”
Ha!
Belkan snorted.
“A man who grew up comfortably in a tower could never understand the life of an orc! We were driven from the fertile plains our ancestors left us and forced to hide in rugged mountains and barren deserts!”
The Great Chieftain recalled the deep scar hidden on his forehead. The mockery and humiliation directed at the orc race. The youth in which every act of goodwill had been betrayed.
“We are not rapists!”
To some extent, that was true.
About as much as humans.
“Nor do we commit merciless plunder!”
They did plunder occasionally.
But that was true of all nomads.
“And we are certainly not monsters who enjoy slaughter without reason! We are a race that knows peaceful lives and neighborly friendship. Yet what about you humans? You massacre us and enslave us simply because we look different!”
Great Chieftain Belkan trembled as he recalled the humiliations of his youth. In the Empire he had been arrested by guards and sold into the gladiatorial arena. After enrolling in the Magic Academy, he had endured every kind of hardship imaginable.
“And yet you claim to understand our suffering?”
“I do not.”
“Then how dare you say you understand us?!”
“But I do understand the pain of being discriminated against.”
I discarded the strategy guide.
I discarded the quest log.
I discarded the world branch points.
“In the world, I am known as the Grey Sage Tellorian. It is a title given in admiration of the seemingly magical achievements I have accomplished. I am grateful for it.”
Instead.
I faced him as an equal.
Setting aside the position of an omniscient player.
“Everyone who meets me asks the same thing. How could someone so young possess the wisdom of a sage and such powerful magic? They say I must be a born genius. An incredibly lucky man. That I must have grown up comfortably.”
I admit it. Not everyone who studies as I did can become what I am. And if I had not had the good fortune to meet a good teacher, I would not be here.
“But I remember the smell of meat.”
“…?”
“Great Chieftain, you must have felt rage when you saw orc villages burning in your youth. But in the same situation, I felt a different emotion.”
In Temnigrad, a fireworks festival was held every New Year. The climax of that festival ended with the burning of a mage on a bonfire.
“When a person is engulfed in flames, they scream at first. But as thick smoke rises, the screams grow weaker… and after a while, the smell of sizzling pork belly wafts from the fire.”
A terrible self-loathing.
The wall a starving person faces.
“I too awakened to magic power, and there were people who knew that fact. If I had not met my master, I would surely have ended up on that bonfire.”
I was a mage.
Distinct from ordinary humans.
That was what humans had decided.
“It smells delicious.”
Therefore.
My kin were other mages.
Not the farmers scattered along the roadside.
“It smells delicious.”
“…”
“Even at the execution grounds where my kin were burned, that was the only thought I could manage. I would watch the mutated rats swarming over the blackened char after the flames died down and feel envious. Because I wanted to eat too.”
A starving human becomes something worse than a ferocious beast. Knowing that, I had accepted Belladia and laughed off the schemes of devils.
“I will not advise you to lead the desert orc race toward a bright and noble future, Great Chieftain. Such a thing is impossible. And even if it were possible, the sacrifice would be too great.”
There may be noble individuals.
But there are no noble collectives.
“Instead.”
“…”
“I will advise you to avoid falling into the abyss of sin. If you do that, I will prepare a way for us to avoid the worst possible outcome.”
Not committing evil is not the same as doing good. However, refraining from evil certainly helps create a better world. That is the best we ordinary people can do.
Lore Acquired: Philosophy!
Experience +20
Lore Points +1
Level Up!
Progress to Level 18: 0/100
Current Lore Points: 19
Empathy had been established.
Now it was time to present logic.