High Orcs (1)
“Raaaargh!”
A half-naked orc charged forward.
It was a towering figure, at least two heads taller than most men, with a massive build. Its green skin glistened with sweat.
The orc raised a crude sword high and brought it down with a force that seemed capable of splitting a boulder.
In front of it—
“Kill and eat! Human meat is tasty!”
“Damn it.”
Dalen sighed lightly and swung his spear.
Crash!
The orc’s thick, broad sword shattered into pieces. At the same time, thin lines appeared on the orc’s wrist and waist.
Thud!
As the broken sword fragments fell to the ground, so did the orc’s hands and upper body.
“Human… meat…”
Even as its lower half was severed and its insides spilled out, the orc’s bloodshot eyes remained fixed on its prey.
Its severed wrist flailed in the air, and blood and saliva dripped from between its fangs.
Dalen swung his spear once more, severing the orc’s head. Only then did the creature stop its futile struggle.
It was the last of the dozens of orc corpses scattered around them.
“Whew. That’s the fourth time today. Where do they keep coming from?”
Lucia approached, wiping the blood from her sword. Her armor and hair were already smeared with gore.
The rest of the party looked no different.
Since setting out that morning, they had slain nearly three hundred orcs.
The astonishing part was that the sun hadn’t even reached its peak yet.
Based on their experiences over the past few days, they could expect at least five or six more attacks before nightfall.
“It’s been three days since we lost the horses. Are we sure we’re going the right way?”
Bjorn shook the blood from his beard and asked. Dalen nodded.
Though it was his first time visiting the World’s Teeth Mountains in this cycle, he wasn’t worried about losing his way.
Even though the mountains were now dozens of times larger than in the game, the method of finding the path hadn’t changed much.
“The orcs are getting bigger, aren’t they? That’s proof we’re on the right track.”
“I don’t get it. What do you mean by that?”
“The World’s Teeth Mountains are where orcs thrive. The deeper we go, the bigger they get, and the closer we get to the High Orc tribes’ territory.”
“Wait a minute. Are you saying our destination is…”
The dwarf’s face turned slightly pale. Dalen shrugged.
“It’s within the High Orcs’ territory. Didn’t I mention that before we set out?”
“I thought you were joking! High Orcs are the kind of battle-crazed creatures you avoid at all costs!”
What a fuss. From the moment he expressed fear of the forest, it was clear he was a dwarf with peculiar fears.
Yet he had no qualms about setting off homemade explosives right under his nose.
Thinking that the line between extraordinary and half-mad was thin, Dalen shook his spear and walked on.
The party naturally moved away from the battlefield. After losing their horses to repeated orc attacks, their sturdy legs became their mode of transport once more.
In truth, their pace wasn’t much different. The terrain of the mountains was so rugged that even trained warhorses were more of a burden than a help.
“Are they really such a wicked race?”
Perhaps the curiosity lingered. As they walked, Akasha whispered to the dwarf.
“I wouldn’t say wicked, but… they’re definitely a threatening race. They’re not only much larger and stronger than regular orcs, but they’re also inherently extremely aggressive.”
“Aggressive, huh… Sounds like they’d make a decent meal.”
“Uh…?”
Bjorn turned his head, feeling a chill down his spine. He was met with eyes gleaming with both curiosity and hunger.
“Oh, it’s nothing. My mentor taught me that if a non-sentient creature, especially a particularly evil one, is encountered, it’s fine to eat them.”
”…”
The dwarf finally understood the intent behind the boy’s question.
Due to the difference in species standards, he hadn’t immediately grasped the meaning.
The young dragon’s question had been, “Are they dangerous and evil? Can I eat them?”
The one who had given that lesson was probably busy polishing glasses at the Crow’s Nest right now.
As the dwarf’s face turned pale from a fear imprinted at the genetic level, Lucia, walking beside them, joined the conversation.
“Akasha, High Orcs are more intelligent than other orcs and can communicate well. They even have trade relations with the Kingdom of Spatha.”
“So they’re as intelligent as demi-humans?”
“Exactly. They have a unique love for battle, but I doubt your mentor considered High Orcs as prey.”
“That’s a shame. I was hoping to try a new kind of food… But it’s fine. My mother’s cooking is a delicacy even the Dragon God would envy.”
”…Goodness. You sure know how to flatter.”
The boy grinned innocently, and Lucia, though exasperated, ruffled his hair affectionately.
Dalen let the conversation wash over him as he led the way.
While the increasing size of the orcs was a clear sign they were on the right path, it wasn’t the only guide he relied on.
In the distance, the jagged peaks of the mountains served as another landmark.
[Are you heading to the High Orcs’ sanctuary?]
The question from the ancient dragon echoed in his mind. Dalen nodded.
‘Yes.’
Perhaps it was the wisdom of age that made the dragon so perceptive.
As the dragon had guessed, Dalen’s destination lay among those peaks—the sanctuary of the High Orcs.
It was a sacred place believed to house the spirits of their ancestors and the residence of the Great Chieftain, the ruler of all orcs.
The conclusion of the cycle where Dalen had survived to witness the massive invasion of the evil god was hidden there.
‘At least this time, acquiring the corpse should be easier.’
The journey was treacherous, and the qualifications required were high, but…
With enough skill, obtaining the sanctuary’s corpse wasn’t particularly difficult.
As Lucia had said, High Orcs were intelligent beings. While they were battle-hungry and simple-minded, that also meant they were less likely to be corrupted by evil.
Unlike other corpses that required overcoming the dark schemes of necromancers, entering the sanctuary only required earning the High Orcs’ recognition.
With Dalen’s current strength, a few sparring matches should suffice to earn that recognition.
Moreover, he knew how to win the High Orcs’ favor early on…
Rustle.
“Stop.”
At that moment, the bushes rustled in the distance. Dalen halted and raised his hand.
Realizing their ambush had been discovered, the orcs emerged from the bushes, drooling.
“Heh heh heh, we’ve been found! Time to fight!”
“Humans who come this far are strong! Strong meat is tasty!”
“Fight! Meat! Fight! Eat!”
“Raaaargh!”
The clumsy shouts and roars echoed. Looking back, the orcs had already surrounded the path the party had taken.
“There are a few more than before. About a hundred this time.”
Lucia drew her sword and commented. There was no tension or fear in her voice.
They were well accustomed to these attacks, and it wasn’t as if the party couldn’t detect such a clumsy ambush.
Rather than avoiding them and complicating their path, they had decided it was more time-efficient to confront them head-on and clear the way.
Sss…
Divine power surged along her blade, and beside her, Bjorn strapped a bundle of round grenades to his waist.
The boy’s dark eyes turned yellow, and the air around them grew cold.
[Attack.]
A voice boomed, echoing through the valley.
Simultaneously, a rain of javelins flew from somewhere, striking the orc formation surrounding the party.
Thud thud thud!
“Aaargh! Ugh!”
“They’re here! The ones who draw pictures!”
“Run, run away…!”
In an instant, dozens of casualties occurred. The orcs, who usually remained unfazed by heavy losses, began to flee in panic after just one volley of javelins.
‘Just as expected.’
Watching the scene, Dalen lightly rested his hand on his belt, heightening his senses.
In truth, he had been meticulously scanning the surroundings for any signs of movement for some time.
He hadn’t immediately responded to the emerging enemies because he had half-expected this javelin volley.
The dozen or so presences closing in from all sides were certainly capable of easily massacring a hundred orcs.
“Leave none alive! It’s hunting time!”
With a shout, the massive hunters emerged.
At first glance, he looked like any other orc, but his towering three-meter frame was adorned with white tattoos, unlike any other orc.
“Spare me, please—ugh!”
“We can’t just become fodder like this—argh!”
The high orcs charged into the green tide, cutting down orcs that outnumbered them several times over in mere moments.
With each effortless swing of their two-meter-long greatswords, the green wave was crushed, sending blood and entrails flying.
The one-sided battle ended swiftly.
The air was thick with the stench of blood.
Only about a dozen high orcs and Dalen’s group of four remained standing.
”…”
A tense silence hung in the air. It was the kind of atmosphere you’d expect when surrounded by three-meter giants drenched in blood.
Even knowing these orcs could communicate, it was a situation that made one hesitant to speak.
Dalen removed his hand from his belt and stepped forward confidently.
“Human, what do you want?”
One of the high orcs spoke, the largest one with the most tattoos.
Dalen scratched his chin and replied nonchalantly.
“How about sharing a meal?”
“Dalen?” Lucia asked, bewildered, while Bjorn’s eyes narrowed as he reached for a grenade pin.
Only the boy seemed to be trying to make sense of the conversation.
The high orc leader, after giving Dalen a once-over, broke into a grin.
“Alright, sounds good! Come eat with us!”
The group’s faces turned to shock at the unexpected invitation.
They had passed the test.
[How curious. High orcs are known among mortals for their warlike nature.]
In his mind, the spear spirit mused quietly.
[Is asking for food some kind of key? I don’t know how you did it, but it seems you’ve encountered their culture before.]
‘Something like that.’
[Still, it’s surprising. There’s an old joke that this race greets others with a spear throw… Ah, maybe that’s why they can communicate?]
…What on earth is this dragon talking about?
Leaving behind their dramatic encounter and negotiation, the group headed towards the high orc village, away from the massacre site.
Contrary to their blood-soaked first impression, the high orcs were surprisingly communicative.
“Food is important. You need to eat to fuel your muscles and brain!”
“High orcs eat well, so they’re smart. Weaklings and shorties must have poor brains!”
“Look at this warrior friend here! Doesn’t he look smart?”
They were also quite the chatterboxes.
“Why am I not considered smart?”
“If your muscles are weak, blood doesn’t reach your brain!”
“What? Weak muscles? Are you insulting a dwarf’s physique?”
“Dwarves are short! Short height means a small heart! The heart is a muscle! Weak muscles mean no blood to the brain!”
”…Unbelievable.”
Despite the mixed-up logic, Bjorn found himself convinced, trailing behind the group with a sullen expression.
“Your body is strong! Your muscles are like stone!”
“No, like steel! Your brain must be as strong as steel too!”
“Is this kid your son? He doesn’t seem like an ordinary human! He’ll be a great warrior like his father!”
Meanwhile, the high orcs walking with Dalen showered him with endless praise.
He could almost feel the dwarf’s resentful gaze on his back, but there was nothing to be done.
In the high orc culture, a muscular build, tall stature, and broad shoulders were the epitome of attractiveness.
Moreover, high orcs were obsessed with food and fighting, so greetings like “let’s fight” or “let’s eat” were seen as great gestures of goodwill.
To them, Dalen was not only handsome but also sensible and exceptionally capable—a perfect man.
They were eager to befriend him, even though they had just met.
‘They’re a surprisingly straightforward bunch.’
They lived in such remote parts of the continent that they were not well-known.
In some ways, high orcs had qualities that surpassed those of humans and other races.
Their deep-seated hatred for demons meant that in many instances, they had been allies.
“We’re here. This is our village.”
After a couple of hours of walking, the group arrived at the high orc settlement.
It was surrounded by a stone wall, not very tall, with watchtowers rising about four meters high at intervals.
Two heavily armed high orc warriors blocked the main gate, holding out their palms. One of them asked,
“What’s with the humans?”
“They’re guests! They said they’d eat with us!”
“Great. Make sure they’re well-fed! Let them through!”
Once again, they were given a free pass.