The Indomitable Martial King

[ Chapter 107 ]

The young orc with green skin did not originally belong to her tribe. Four years ago, he appeared as an outsider through the Land of Trials. He had been living as a slave to humans and was brought here under the guidance of a mysterious human.

Stalla spoke with a wistful expression.

“Now, no one denies your worth.”

Back then, there had been much opposition to accepting an outsider orc, who had lost both the orc’s soul and pride, into the tribe. It was Stalla who had accepted the young Tassid despite all the objections. Wise beyond her years, she recognized the potential in Tassid, who had broken the chains of fate and awakened the spirit of a warrior through his own will.

– Learning and mastering the pride of a warrior in one’s soul is indeed commendable. Moreover, this child possesses a soul filled with pride without having learned or mastered anything. If this child is not a warrior, then who else can claim to be one?

Stalla’s words had awakened the entire Blue Bear Tribe, and everyone, feeling ashamed, accepted the young orc boy. Now, four years later, the once frail young orc had become an indispensable warrior for the Blue Bear Tribe.

“I am glad to see the fruits of my teaching.”

At Stalla’s gentle words, Tassid shrugged his shoulders.

“I am naturally talented, after all.”

Whack!

Stalla’s backhanded knuckles struck Tassid squarely in the face.

“Stop showing off.”

“Ouch~.”

Tassid grabbed his face, pretending to be in pain.

Of course, it didn’t really hurt. If he had been a proud human, this blow might have easily broken his nose, but for orcs with flat noses, such a facial strike was merely playful banter. It was similar to how humans lightly tapped each other on the shoulder.

Humans might see these orcs as violent and barbaric, but it was simply a misunderstanding born from differences in physical structure.

While Stalla and Tassid were playfully teasing each other, they saw an orc warrior running urgently from the hill in the distance. The orc, descending the hill in a single bound like a mountain goat, reached Stalla and shouted.

“Great Mother!”

“What is the commotion, Magadan?”

The orc called Magadan, with a face full of tension, opened his mouth.

“Humans have appeared. Angat, who was herding sheep in the west, reported it.”

Tassid and Stalla’s expressions hardened. The other orcs, who had been idly tending to the fire, also sharpened their eyes and rose from their places.

“Are they soldiers?”

Magadan shook his head.

“I heard there are only five of them.”

“Just a group of adventurers then?”

Stalla frowned. Occasionally, adventurers who had heard strange rumors would enter this land of trials. They weren’t after the orcs but were instead explorers seeking the ruins of the Silver Age located here. Even so, to them, orcs were just wild monsters. Every encounter inevitably led to a battle.

Suddenly, Stalla bared her teeth in a grin, her voice dripping with malice.

“In that case, we should let them know who the true rulers of this land are!”

* * *

A week had passed since Repenhardt and his party had headed south along the Gloten Mountains. They had now crossed the Fetland Plain and entered the land of trials.

Under normal circumstances, it would have taken them at least twenty days. If they had been traveling on foot, that is. But money makes the world go round. With their pockets well-lined, Repenhardt and his party had splurged this time, buying horses and riding swiftly. With enough money, they could afford the luxury of changing their tired horses at every station along the way.

Upon entering the land of trials, Repenhardt’s party reduced their speed. There were no more places to exchange their exhausted horses, so they had to be mindful of their mounts’ stamina.

“It’s truly a desolate place, hyung.”

Riding on a horse at a brisk pace, Russ surveyed the surroundings. The further they got from the Fetland Plain, the fewer signs of human presence there were. The cone-shaped tents of the nomads who roamed the plains had long since vanished.

Repenhardt, leading the way, nodded.

“It’s no wonder orcs have such a fearsome reputation.”

Orcs were considered rough, brutal, and barbaric. This was the common perception among humans.

But this was merely a reflection of the harsh environment the orcs lived in. The brutal practice of abandoning weak newborns in the wilderness was indeed a part of orc culture. Also true to some extent was the practice of elderly orcs leaving their villages to die of starvation in the wild.

“In reality, orcs see leaving the village as an honorable act, not something they’re forced into.”

Repenhardt conveniently omitted the part where orcs who lacked honor were indeed driven out of their villages. In the end, being cast out was the same either way.

Nevertheless, what seemed like barbaric customs were actually the most practical survival strategies born out of a relentless struggle for life. Hearing Repenhardt’s explanation, Tilla tilted her head.

“…But doesn’t that still make them barbaric?”

“Honestly, why do dwarves get to live in their paradise, building all those structures? In the end, living in the wilderness is just as tough for them. From her perspective, orcs still seemed like barbaric brutes.

Then Siris pouted.

“Well, that’s because the dwarves got lucky and managed to salvage a lot of stuff.”

Despite living as slaves to humans, dwarves retained much of their ancestral wisdom, allowing them to maintain a somewhat cultured life even when exiled to the wilderness. However, from the elves’ perspective, who had to flee after losing everything, Tilla’s words sounded like the complaints of someone who didn’t understand true hardship.

“But still, how can you say they’re not barbaric when they don’t cherish their children or even abandon their elders? Elves don’t do that, right?”

“Even so, you have to understand their perspective. Do you think dwarves could’ve modified the Grand Forge if they had lost all their architectural and forging skills?”

The two women bickered from their horses. Watching this rare sight of an elf defending orcs, Repenhardt held his forehead in his hand.

‘Ah, this is a problem, too. Come to think of it.’

Though it was just a trivial argument between Tilla and Siris, Repenhardt understood the implications of what he was seeing.

No matter how oppressed the different races were, the idea that they would band together in perfect unity was a naive expectation. In his past life, elves, dwarves, and orcs constantly had various conflicts. Different races with different cultures couldn’t easily blend together.

Jealousy and rivalry weren’t unique to humans. Even the most rational elves, the truth-seeking dwarves, and the proud orcs had different standards for rationality, truth, and pride. Ultimately, putting different races together led to problems, whether they were humans, elves, dwarves, or orcs.

‘Well, back then, I could enforce unity with the Emperor’s power, but now that’s not an option…’

Repenhardt scratched his cheek in frustration. He thought he’d need to discuss this issue with Makelin later.

Meanwhile, Siris and Tilla had finally ended their argument and were riding their horses again, both with puffed cheeks and sulky expressions. Repenhardt continued walking, pretending not to notice. From his long years of experience, he had learned that no man ever came out of a women’s quarrel unscathed.

It seemed Sillan understood this ‘wisdom’ well too. He approached Repenhardt and started talking about something else, smoothly changing the subject.

“But Mr. Repen, how are you going to persuade the orcs? Ah, of course, I’m sure you have a way, but I’m just curious.”

There was a belief that since Repenhardt had easily persuaded the elves and dwarves, he would naturally do the same with the orcs. Surprisingly, Repenhardt made a troubled expression.

“I do have a method, but I’m not very confident about it.”

In fact, Repenhardt was indeed worried.

The dwarves posed no problem since they could hear the voice of truth. The elves, being rational thinkers and having the hidden card of the World Tree revival ritual, were also not a concern. However, he had only thought about how to communicate to the orcs that he was not an enemy and was on their side; he wasn’t certain it would work.

“I guess I’ll have to confront this head-on to find out.”

At that, Siris rode up to Repenhardt’s side. She whispered so that the others couldn’t hear.

“Won’t you just do it the same way you did in your past life?”

She implied that since he had persuaded them once, it shouldn’t be a problem. Repenhardt, feeling awkward, whispered back to her.

“Well… back then, I had Tassid.”

In his past life, Repenhardt met Tassid while exploring various ruins across the continent with Siris. During that time, Repenhardt was already meeting with different races across the continent, delving into new realms of magic, and rescuing oppressed elves and orcs whenever possible.

Before the Antares Empire was established, Tassid had left the Blue Bear Tribe to wander the continent, seeking to save oppressed orcs. It was during a period of deep despair when he realized that he couldn’t change anything alone in a world dominated by humans.

To Tassid, Repenhardt’s existence was a beacon of hope. After finding Repenhardt and testing him with his sword, Tassid realized that Repenhardt was the only way to fulfill his dream. He then pledged his loyalty to him.

Those were the golden days for Repenhardt—exploring Silver Age ruins with Siris and Tassid, visiting isolated tribes, and rescuing enslaved races across the continent. It was a time filled with dreams, hope, and freedom.

Eventually, Repenhardt united the various tribal villages into what became the Antares Empire and headed to the Blue Bear Tribe with Tassid. By then, the fame of the Antares Empire had spread across the continent. The Blue Bear Tribe joined their cause without much resistance.

But now, without Tassid as an intermediary and nothing significant accomplished yet, how could he possibly convey to the orcs that his dreams and intentions were genuine?

Naturally, his confidence was wavering.

Repenhardt clicked his tongue and muttered.

“Still, it’s not like I have no plan at all. We’ll just have to meet them first.”

Just then, Russ frowned and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. He called out to the group in a low voice.

“Something’s coming.”

The group halted and dismounted. Over the distant hill, a group of armed individuals appeared. Around twenty sturdy orcs with dark red skin, clad in leather armor and wielding crude swords and axes.

Looking at their attire, Repenhardt spoke.

“Orc scouts.”

“Must be the companions of the ones who scouted us earlier.”

With the keen senses of an aura user, Russ had already noticed that an orc had been observing them. Repenhardt nodded.

“It looks like they’re going to attack. Try not to harm them too much. We’re here with peaceful intentions.”

The orcs drew their weapons and began to close the distance slowly. Repenhardt’s party formed a circle around the horses. Tilla and Siris protected Sillan, drawing their weapons, while Sillan began chanting a holy spell in preparation.

Suddenly, the lead orc let out a roar.

“Judika kadel metalka! Sakan da talka!”

Sillan asked nervously.

“What are they saying?”

“This is our land. All humans will die.”

Tilla shook her head at Repenhardt’s translation.

“How hostile.”

Repenhardt took a step forward and raised his voice.

“Spirits of the Blue Warriors! I am here to…”

Just as he was about to declare in orcish that they were not enemies, the twenty orcs roared in unison.

“Sakan da talka!”

And with terrifying momentum, they charged towards the group. Russ smirked bitterly.

“Looks like they’re not in the mood for talking.”