Wintervalt's Spicy Flavor for the Homeless # 35
"Th-that's impossible...!"
Shaman Gur trembled, his hand gripping the skull staff shaking uncontrollably. Nine out of ten orc warriors in the vanguard had already fallen.
'D-did the humans do this? Was it a trap?'
Gur shook his head violently. No, that couldn't be. He'd heard humans had shamans who could command monsters, sure. But one or two? Fine. Not hundreds filling an entire forest...
He swallowed dryly, desperately denying reality.
'Yeah... they must've just stumbled into a nest of raging monsters by chance.'
At least sending the vanguard first to scout the forest had been a stroke of luck. If his own unit and the main force had charged in together... The thought alone sent chills down his spine.
"Bypass it! Abandon the Black Forest—find another route!"
At Gur's command, the army of two thousand orcs changed direction. But they hadn't gone far before their footsteps halted again.
"Ku-ruk... Gur, sir. Swamp ahead."
The orc scout pointed to an endless expanse of massive swamp. And... something about that eerie blue glow unnerved him.
Gur closed his eyes and sent his crows aloft, surveying the terrain from above. Steep cliffs and treacherous gorges flanked both sides of the swamp.
'......'
Gur's face stiffened oddly as he peered down. Was it a shaman's intuition? Staring at the bluish swamp, a cold dread crept up his spine.
'......Should we turn back?'
His crows scanned again. Detouring around this beast would take at least two extra days. Not short, but doable. Even if the orc warriors tired more, they could still crush frail humans.
Besides, Krok had already infiltrated Wintervalt. The idiot humans had no clue their traitor would spark a revolt and open the gates at the critical moment.
But... Gur's brow twitched.
'......Do we really need to detour?'
Krok's Red Fang tribe had reached Wintervalt's walls unharmed in a single day. Without the Black Forest, this was the only path.
The blue glow bothered him, but... it was just a swamp.
"Test the depth, just in case."
At Gur's order, a massive deputy orc stepped cautiously into the swamp.
Splash. Splish. Splish.
The deputy walked a few steps, then turned with a bright grin. "Gur, sir! Ku-ruk! Shallow! Super shallow here. Easy crossing. Piece of cake!"
"Hm. No discomfort walking?"
"Ku-ruk! Not at all! Warm! Feels great! Ku-ru-ruk!"
Indeed, a reason it hadn't frozen in the northern chill. Like a hot spring swamp.
Gur sighed in relief and raised his staff. "......Good. Just a swamp. Entire army—cross and advance!"
"Kuo-ooo!!"
***
Warm and shallow, they'd said. The two thousand cold-weary orcs cheered and charged into the swamp en masse.
But they had no idea. The sticky warmth underfoot was Kailan Wintervalt's second trap.
Yes! It wasn't a natural swamp at all.
With orc invasion halting Wintervalt's construction, Kailan had ordered Civil Engineering Manager Viscount Arjen: Dump every barrel of now-useless slime mucus where the orcs would pass.
Construction slime mucus hardened like steel on air contact. But Eleanor's artificial sun overhead blasted heat, keeping it liquid.
"Ku-ruk...! Sticky, but warm! Nice!"
"Feet heavy! Still, we'll make it quick!"
As two thousand orcs reached the swamp's heart, lifting heavy feet from the goo—
Whoosh!
The warming sun vanished.
Orcs hadn't even noticed two suns in the sky. So one gone? No clue.
They just trudged on, dumbly through what was now construction slime mucus.
Then, blizzard winds howled from the sunless sky. Biting northern cold.
Meeting the frigid north wind, the king slime mucus reverted to form.
Crack! Crunch!
"Ku, ku-ruk!? Wh-what's that noise!?"
"M-mud... turned to rock...!"
In seconds. Splishy slime hardened steel-solid.
"Kr, kuaaaak! Feet... feet stuck!!"
The lead deputy orc screamed in horror. One foot in swamp, one out on hardened edge—frozen mid-stride.
"Ku-ru-ruk! Mine won't budge!"
"F-feet'll rip off! Can't pull free!!"
Two thousand orcs trapped mid-swamp thrashed and wailed. But slime cement bonding steel trees? No orc strength could break it.
Both feet stuck, one foot stuck—all turned statues dotting the swamp.
Gur, floating via crows overhead, gaped at the carnage.
"Th-this... humans use such evil sorcery?!"
Gur paled, shouting. Black Forest? Coincidence maybe. But this? No.
Two thousand screams pierced his skull.
His sharpest deputy orc—smartest he trusted—whimpered childlike, one foot on hardened swamp: "Gur, sir...! D-do I live like this forever!?"
"......"
Gur had no answer.
***
Same time. Wintervalt ducal castle, grand meeting hall.
"Kuhahaha!!"
Kailan rarely laughed before retainers, but the crystal orb showed two thousand orcs as swamp statues.
Second capture op: perfect. No blood spilled, friend or foe.
"Excellent. Splendid work."
Kailan clapped, pleased. "Black Forest: about a thousand. Swamp: two thousand. Tarakn's 'united horde'? Less than half left."
Swamp-stuck orcs? Only Eleanor's magic could free them. Subjugation could wait.
First, praise his lovely wife. Skip a day, and thorns sprouted in his mouth.
"Eleanor, your magic neutralized two thousand orcs this time. Viscount Arjen and your workers—fine job."
Retainers chimed in eagerly.
"Incredible, my lord! Just Tarakn's main force left. Hell, adventurers might complain we left too few!"
Guild Master Walter chuckled. Cedric fired back.
"Kuhahaha! No need for adventurers! More traps ready, and scraps? Our defense knights and orc troops handle it!"
"Heh, don't hog it all—let us adventurers work! You raised us for this!"
Laughter filled the hall—then Kailan rose slowly.
Air grew heavy; faces sobered.
Kailan gripped wall-hung greatsword Frost Fang. Blue eyes blazed.
"D-day after tomorrow: finale. Prepare to end this tiresome war."
"Yes, my lord!!"
***
Two days later.
Great chieftain Tarkan reached Wintervalt's grand walls with Gur and Karak.
Half his forces lost pointlessly. Yet Tarkan felt no rage.
"......"
Just cold eyes upward.
Frontal clash, fair loss? Rage.
Trembling surrender? Disappointment.
But traps. Meant no confidence head-on, but no submission either.
Desperate thrashing with petty tricks.
"......Intriguing."
Tarkan's lips curled.
He craved no mere food. Slaves to wield. Not willing kneelers—ones he broke personally.
Will-less from start? Just livestock.
No. He wanted conquest's thrill. Defiant heads bowing at his feet.
To break will, it must first exist.
Wintervalt's leader had it.
Black Dragon bone axe on shoulder, he spoke toward walls.
"Humans."
Low growl shook the plain. Knights plugged ears; orcs mistook for quake.
"Saw your games."
Eyes narrowed.
"Show more. How long can those tricks hold?!"
Words ended—
Screeech!
No advance, yet first wall gate creaked open.
Spy chief Krok's work. Blue work clothes, striding out boldly.
Humans panicked to close—but Krok's orcs held the winch.
"Ku-ru-ruk...! Great chieftain! Here! Opened as promised!"
Krok thumped chest greeting Tarkan.
Tarkan nodded at all three gates wide open.
"Well done, Krok. Won't forget your merit."
"Ku-ruk! Enter! All inside! Tasty food, warm homes! Great lord! We take it all here!"
Tarkan's brow furrowed at excited shout.
"Great lord? You mean me?"
Something off in Krok's words, but open gates? No hesitation.
Axe raised, he led remaining two thousand inside.
Passing first wall, cold scan atop: sparse defenders. Few archers. Mostly ragtag without armor.
'......Hiding behind walls.'
Lips sneered. Classic human siege: huddle, wait orcs tire.
'Fine. Drag 'em out anyway.'
Approaching narrow second gate—
Boom!! Bang!!
Third wall's iron gate slammed shut with clamor. Then second, first—sealed.
"......"
Tarkan halted. Sealed canyon between walls.
Trap again.
But no panic. Just cold gaze to Krok, now atop wall.
"Betrayed us, Krok?"
Krok grinned from above. No dumb brute face. Pure Wintervalt citizen. Capitalist grin.
"Betray? Ku-ru-ruk! My lord is Wintervalt's Grand Duke alone!"
Krok bellowed.
"Now!! Give these houseless bastards a real taste of Wintervalt's spice!!"
That instant—
Swish-! Swish-!
From "empty" walls, figures surged. One, two, ten, hundred—hundreds of hidden adventurers and knights with bows, spears. Canyon swarmed black with ambushers.
Perfect encirclement.
"......"
Tarkan looked up slowly.
"Fire!!"