Dead Orcs Don't Make Money
Wintervalt Grand Duchy Castle, Grand Conference Hall.
This place would normally be blooming with smiles over new city sales figures or contracts with fresh merchant guilds. But today, a razor-thin tension hung in the air like thin ice about to crack.
The former chieftain of the Red Fang Tribe, Krok, was attending the meeting. His massive bulk was visible only through the crystal orb, but that was enough.
"Listen up, my vassals."
Kailan Wintervalt, seated at the head of the table with his chin resting on his interlaced hands, spoke in a voice heavy with gravity.
Gulp.
Knight Captain Cedric and the core vassals swallowed dryly, their eyes locked on their lord's mouth.
"My faithful informant Krok has brought intelligence. Great Chieftain Tarkan, who was hunkered down deep in the Northern Mountains, has finally completed the unification of all the tribes."
Kailan's blue eyes slowly swept the room.
"Their numbers, as I mentioned last meeting, are five thousand. They'll march south toward Wintervalt as early as tomorrow."
"Five thousand orc warriors…?!"
Cedric couldn't hide his shock. Just last year, dealing with a few hundred orcs had cost them several Expert-level knights. Of course, Wintervalt's military strength now was incomparable to then. But… it was easy to predict there'd still be heavy casualties this time.
"Your Grace! We must send a messenger to the capital immediately and request massive support from the Imperial Knights! Evacuate the territory's folk outside the new city to the safe shelters, and prepare for a siege defense!"
He was suggesting holing up in the steel tree buildings with the people and holding out. If the Northern Defense Force lost, it might buy time until imperial reinforcements arrived. But Kailan had no intention of losing, nor did he expect the Empire to send any real help.
The emperor was the sort who'd balked at even grain aid and pawned off his precious daughter to the north instead. As Kailan's silence stretched, Guild Master Walter stood, veins bulging in his neck.
"I'll issue the highest emergency mobilization order to the Adventurer's Guild at once. This city we built with our blood and sweat—we'll defend it ourselves!"
Kailan nodded quietly in agreement. The adventurers, many hailing from northern folk, would be a huge boon. The knight orders were improving in number and quality by the day. The ironclad walls wouldn't breach easily.
The King of the North wasn't worried about defeat. His one concern was…
"The Red Fang Tribe, not to mention the master of the Green Tower, have both volunteered to join the fight. We will surely win. But… make sure this order reaches every guild and knight order without fail!!"
Kailan leaned forward, his eyes flashing like drawn blades as he glared at his vassals.
"In this battle, kill as few orcs as possible."
"……Pardon?"
"Use poison, break their legs—whatever it takes. Neutralize and capture them alive. I promise, on behalf of the Grand Duchy Castle, to pay double the magic stone value as a bounty to anyone who captures an orc alive."
The room erupted at Kailan's bombshell declaration. Inside, Kailan was dancing a wild jig for entirely different reasons.
Kuhahaha! Five thousand! Five thousand orc warriors! They're marching right into our workforce pool!
One orc's labor power matched three northern adult males—or ten average men—without exaggeration. Imagine five thousand of those brutes in work clothes on construction sites. They could build secondary and tertiary defensive lines around the territory, accelerate city expansion—no problem!
With surplus labor, they could finally start on the sewers. Hygiene's been a nightmare. Once this war's over, that's priority one. Can't have my beautiful wife stepping in shit on her way somewhere!
Water magic stones were overflowing in Wintervalt these days, to the point of disposal issues. With them, no need for modern chemicals or complex filtration—just purify dirty water clean. All that was left was digging channels and laying steel tree pipes. And that sturdy labor force was marching down voluntarily.
Killing orcs for their stones was amateur hour. A true capitalist master kept them alive and worked them till their bones ground to dust.
"Kurrk…! Sniff… Hnngh…!"
It came out of nowhere. Inside the crystal orb, Krok's shoulders trembled violently.
All eyes turned to the orc's sudden tears. Fat drops rolled from his massive eyes.
"To save us… ignorant, foolish orcs… for Your Grace to risk danger himself…!"
Krok dropped to his knees and prostrated.
"This Krok vows his life to Your Grace and Wintervalt! Even if this body shatters, I'll stand at the forefront and block Tarkan's horde!!"
"Woooaaargh!!"
The heartfelt roar from Krok and his orcs shook the hall, reddening even Cedric's eyes.
"My lord… This old knight finally grasps, even faintly, your intent…!"
Cedric gazed at Krok's kneeling form in the orb. When he'd first met the giant orc, he'd never dreamed they'd end up allies against the same foes. But now? Orcs and humans sweating together, sharing drinks, pooling heads to defend the same land under the same sky.
Then… those five thousand orcs coming from the north… someday…
Aah… My lord foresaw even that far…!
The knights and officials, moved by Cedric and Krok, sniffled one after another. To them, Wintervalt's orcs were no longer monsters. They worked, fought, talked together. Sometimes cried, sometimes laughed together. Neighbors. Comrades-in-arms.
"We shall uphold the lord's command!!"
"Capture 'em alive!! Beat 'em till their minds snap and make 'em Wintervalt citizens!!"
Orcs, knights, adventurers—if Kailan had ordered a total wipeout, morale wouldn't have soared like this. The monster duke's obsession with cheap labor was about to bring massive change to Wintervalt once more.
That evening. A quiet back alley in Wintervalt's new city.
"Nom… chomp chomp. Kek. Uncle Pam's meat pies are the best, no contest."
As Krok bit hugely into a pie the size of his face, beaming with joy—
Fwump!
A red glow streaked through the dark and landed on his shoulder. A crow with sinister red eyes oozing evil aura. Shaman Gur's familiar.
[Krok… How fares the situation.]
Gur's eerie voice leaked from the crow's beak. Krok swiftly hid the pie behind his back, dropping his voice low and feigning gravity.
"Kurrk…! Been waiting, Gur. The humans are in total panic. Pissing themselves over rumors that Great Chieftain Tarkan unified the tribes."
[Kekeke… And that arrogant sword master?]
"That guy? Kurrk! He's been holed up in his castle forever. Knights are packing bags, plotting escape."
Krok desperately stifled laughter, picturing Kailan's relaxed face.
"Tell the Great Chieftain! Strike before the humans flee! Tomorrow night, I'll throw the gates wide open myself!"
[Splendid, Krok! The Great Chieftain praises your merit highly!]
The crow left a creepy cackle and soared into the night sky. Once Gur's presence fully vanished, a wicked grin spread across Krok's face.
"Dumbasses. Kekeke!"
Krok took another huge bite of the hidden pie, then pulled a parchment from his work clothes pocket and stroked it fondly.
Wintervalt Orc City Housing Subscription Certificate
Stamped twice with Duchess Eleanor's "Good Job" seal.
Kekeke! Five thousand or six thousand—too late for you lot now. The houses closest to the new city are Red Fang Tribe's!
The capitalist orc's laughter echoed through the market alley for a while.
The same time. Deep in the Northern Mountains, the Giant Cave.
"Krahahaha! Walls or no, humans' frail nature can't be helped!"
Great Chieftain Tarkan rose from his bone throne, bellowing mad laughter at Gur's report.
"Huddled like rats in fear… I had high hopes for the big shot, but what a letdown!"
Tarkan reached out. His Black Dragon Bone Axe, sheathed in black hide, shuddered and flew to his hand. The thick dark magic from the blade shook the entire cave.
Tarkan led his inner circle out and bellowed.
"Brothers, hear me!!"
His roar prompted the orc legions to raise weapons in cheers.
"No more gnawing monster meat in boredom! Sweep the weak humans, seize their food!! Red Fang's Krok will open the gates!!"
"Kuaaaargh!!"
"Kurrk…! Meat! Meat!"
"Filthy monster meat… over!!"
"Kurrk…! Vanguard's mine, Karak! Twin Axes Tribe, follow me!!"
The orc legions' advance finally began.
Twin Axes Tribe Chieftain Karak led a thousand elite orcs vanguard through the fierce blizzard toward Wintervalt.
After some distance, the endless snowfields vanished, revealing the Black Forest.
"Kurrk…! South's air hits different right away."
Karak sniffed deeply. Unlike the snowy Northern Mountains, grass and trees… signs of life everywhere.
"Grass and trees…! So much…! Kurrk…!"
"Kurrk…! Land this good…! First time!"
"Arrogant humans…! Ours now!"
The orcs drooled and chattered excitedly. Karak's vanguard were the dumbest, strongest orcs, forged battling beasts in harsh wilds. A forest teeming with life and towering trees was utterly alien to Karak.
"Kurrk…! Trees too many, too big—blocks vision. Annoying."
Karak scowled, twin axes slung over his shoulder. Crossing this forest was the fastest path to Wintervalt.
"Coward humans! Kurrk…! Might be hiding… Scout around!"
At Karak's order, the thousand orcs tensed and entered the forest.
Crunch.Rustle.
Only the sound of orcs trampling grass echoed. Nothing else…
Unnaturally so. The windless Black Forest silently swallowed the thousand-strong force.