Praise the Orc

Chapter 160: The Empire's Common Enemy

The kingdom that once had occupied the southern corner of the continent was expanding rapidly transforming into an empire. The territories that were not unified among humans were now merged under the rule of the emperor, surpassing the combined lands of all the other species.

"You can only gain as much as you plan."

"Are you talking about making plans?"

"Yes. You cannot truly lay claim to what you have obtained by luck."

Cainz looked at the map of the continent as he reminisced about the past. He had succeeded in killing the legendary orc instructor Lenox by borrowing the military strength of a human earl. On top of that, through him, Cainz got to build connections with nobles.

His plans gained further momentum when he joined forces with Rommel, whose capabilities were widely acknowledged by nobles.

That's how he met the king—a young king who, at that time, was merely a symbolic figure connecting humans under the banner of the kingdom. However, Cainz could see ambition in the king's eyes.

'Eureka!' he exclaimed inwardly when he met the king. 'If there's a will, there's always a way.'

He manipulated everyone around him. However, he wasn't the type of coach who helped those in need to get back on their feet and keep running. He was the opposite. He whispered into the ears of those already running and lured them downward toward a cliff.

"So, did you plan to make the king into an emperor from the beginning?"

"Akantore was well on the path, and I supported him. It was also a stroke of luck. I wouldn't say I fully planned it."

"You're modest."

Cainz grinned widely. Rommel was one of the few that could get on his level.

As a War Maestro class, Rommel was a talented individual. He was exceptionally smart in reality as well.

Before the launch of Elder Lord, when PC gaming was still popular, he used to be a professional gamer.

"So, what kind of plan are you talking about?"

"Look."

Cainz drew something on the map.

"Ha..."

Rommel saw it and laughed. It was rare for Rommel to laugh like this.

"It has to be something of this level to be considered a plan."

"Hahaha, that's true."

Cainz was a thorough realist. He enjoyed playing Elder Lord to accumulate wealth in real life. He and Rommel had already earned enormous amounts of money as the leaders of the Heaven and Earth Clan.

But he couldn't be satisfied with just that anymore.

"Inter-species war."

Through Rommel, the genius of war, Cainz would make the empire crush other species.

Considering the repercussions they would have in the world of Elder Lord, the amount of achievement points, rewards, wealth, and honor they would gain would far exceed what they had accumulated so far.

He didn't care about how devastated the world of Elder Lord would become. Perhaps it would become a wasteland to the point where playing the game would be impossible. By then, the game developer would either break the rules of non-interference or reset the server.

Anyway, by that time, he would quit Elder Lord.

"Let's set the world on fire."

"Sure."

They looked at each other and grinned.

"I heard there have been a lot of upheavals lately. Did you get any cool achievement rewards?"

"Nothing special," replied Rommel.

Cainz checked his status window. Even when he wasn't active, his clan members continuously accumulated achievement points, which would occasionally yield rewards. But there weren't any rewards that would prove useful to him.

"Same here."

People thought he was a regular magician. He led them to believe that. He proclaimed himself as an ordinary magician class.

However, he was an unreachable hidden class comparable to Rommel.

'Evil Whisperer.'

It was a class that not only involved magic but also influenced the enemy's mind. His words and actions exerted dominance over people. They followed him and trusted what he said. A few words could turn someone into a loyal subordinate.

It was the ability that suited him the most.

Now, he would whisper wicked words to the emperor and the nobles, plunging the continent into the flames of war.

"We've already gained so much good stuff."

"Ah right, you are a hidden class too."

"Yeah."

Only Rommel knew that he was a hidden class. However, he didn't even disclose the details to Rommel.

Cainz believed that he was able to acquire a hidden class because someone wanted to make these events happen in Elder Lord through him.

'The system message.'

In the beginning, the system messages only conveyed technical game elements, but at some point, they changed. As he fought bigger battles and accumulated achievements, the messages began to display personal emotions.

The first time he incited war and massacred people, the system calculated his achievements and congratulated him.

[An amazing massacre! It's a wicked act, but also an incredible achievement. We look forward to you rousing even greater wars!]

At that moment, Cainz felt something. A vague premonition that his plans were bound to succeed. It was a feeling that the world of Elder Lord was assisting him.

Suddenly, they heard a voice from outside.

"Cainz-nim! Rommel-nim! May I come in?"

"Yeah, come in."

The door opened, and a clan member entered.

"We've received a leaflet."

"A leaflet? From whom?" Cainz tilted his head curiously.

"Is it that thing?" wondered Rommel.

"Oh, that."

What they referred to as that was a propaganda leaflet widely distributed throughout the empire by Crockta. It had recently become a hot topic of discussion within the empire. Crockta wanted all the hostility directed toward him, and his plan was successful. He was quite a clever one.

Now, there was growing anger toward Crockta within the empire.

Crockta was the public enemy of the empire.

"He uses a lot of creative insults. I wonder what it says here."

Cainz chuckled and opened the leaflet. When he read it, his face stiffened. "..."

But his stiff face soon turned into a smirk. "Clever."

Cainz handed the propaganda leaflet to Rommel, who read it.

"Smart. He's the real deal. If this was intentional, he succeeded," said Rommel with a nod.

Cainz banged the table. "Let's deal with this before anything else. Killing him would be better. It doesn't matter what his intentions are. It'll put my mind at ease. Let's kill him first."

The NPCs in the world of Elder Lord were realistic. They were astonishingly similar to reality, and each had their own logic and philosophy. They knew this fact better than anyone else because their clan was able to grow through cooperation with NPCs.

NPCs were smart, smart enough to catch up with players.

"He knows everything. He knows that it's us."

The leaflet sent by Crockta had only one short line.

[Remember Lenox.]

They had killed Lenox a long time ago. He had been the stepping stone for them in reaching their current position.

But as a result, the Haedong Balhae clan had been disbanded, and the earl had died. They had believed that was the end.

However, the revenge they believed was over had come back to find them.

Crockta was not just coincidentally involved with the empire. His eyes were always fixed on them.

The fight would continue until one of them disappeared.

'You will not be able to handle the repercussions of what you have done today."

The voice of Lenox from that day seemed to echo again.

***

Adantadore grabbed his sword.

He had lost to Crockta.

Since then, Crockta's specter glared at him each time he picked up his sword. His ferocious spirit came alive and haunted him.

Adantadore, unable to raise his sword, dropped it.

"Dammit."

He threw the sword onto the training ground. The sword bounced on the ground a few times before rolling and falling silent.

The blade was all damaged now.

His father always used to say, 'A swordsman should treat his sword like a lover.'

But his father, who treated his sword like a lover, couldn't even reach the Pinnacle and was a third-rate knight.

It was during the time the master swordsman of the Pacrinche family had gone missing that his family's reputation declined. As a result, no one remembered them.

"Just wait and see."

They were the family that gave birth to the most famous traitor in history, Leyteno Pacrinche. He was the worst knight, the one who had slaughtered humans on the side of orcs.

When the Pacrinche family used to be powerful, people whispered behind their backs. But once they lost their power, people openly mocked them to their faces.

Adantadore never forgot the humiliation of those days.

So, he swung his sword like a madman. From the moment he opened his eyes until he closed them, he thought only of the sword. It was an obsession close to madness.

Thanks to that, he became the strongest knight in the kingdom.

"I'll defeat him next time."

That's why he knew how convenient the term talent was. People often said Adantadore was a genius, even calling him the empire's greatest talent. However, he lived every moment with the blade.

Even when he was eating or sleeping, his mind calculated the trajectory of the sword. He was the type who, while looking at a blooming rose, saw the path of the sword within the structure of the petals wrapped around the stamen and pistil of the flower.

He didn't believe in talent. He only believed that there were no limits to a person.

As long as that was clear, he was ready to bow and crawl on the ground. He could become stronger and make those who once mocked him bow their heads in the same way.

But now, he couldn't swing the sword.

This had never happened before.

"Why?" he muttered as he closed his eyes. He imagined an invisible sword in his hand and assumed a starting position.

Shapes emerged in the darkness. Countless knights and enemies he had faced skirted past him.

They were easy opponents now.

He thought of the sword of Count Benteke, the strongest of the previous generation. His sword was flexible and elusive. When it seemed to be getting pushed back, it would suddenly retaliate and coil around the opponent's attack, smoothly slashing his throat.

Adantadore tried to focus. Gradually, he became familiar with Count Benteke's techniques in his head. He received a lot of injuries from his subtle techniques, but in the end, Adantadore's sword pierced his heart.

No matter how strong the opponent in front of him was, he could at least swing his sword.

But Crockta was different.

During the duel, he seemed to be in the lead until he faced that unknown light.

Now, he couldn't even remember how he had initially gained the upper hand.

He felt as if he was facing a dead-end. Even if he endlessly repeated the rigorous training that had brought him this far, it seemed impossible to defeat him. He couldn't even imagine it. This was the first time.

"Stop kidding me..."

He picked up a new sword and swung it. The sound of the blade slicing through the air burst forth.

"Orc who follows Leyteno..."

He had studied all of the swords passed down in the Pacrinche family, so he immediately recognized Crockta's sword. That orc's great swordsmanship was definitely Leyteno's.

He had developed his own spin on the greatsword as he gained maturity as a swordsman, but its prototype was undoubtedly Leyteno's.

And because Leyteno was a Pacrinche, it was a swordsmanship type that was related to him.

"Dammit! Dammit!"

He relentlessly struck the ground with his sword. No sword could endure the abuse of the strongest knight in the empire. The blade broke. He kicked its remains and threw the hilt.

Complete despair settled on him. It was a profoundly intense emotion he had never felt before. He knew he would never understand Crockta and the light he had unleashed. It was a realm that could not be achieved through repeated training or obsession bordering on madness.

"Dammit..."

He slumped down and calmed his thoughts as he tried to catch his breath. He managed to suppress the emotions boiling within him.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"..."

His butler was outside the training ground. He had been standing there since Adantadore started smashing blades in frustration.

"You've received a leaflet."

"It must be that."

Crockta's propaganda leaflets were a hot topic in the empire lately.

Each leaflet insulted the emperor in novel ways. It was said that some nobles of the empire secretly enjoyed collecting them.

The butler approached him and handed him the leaflet. Adantadore opened it and smirked.

Although they drew the emperor in a comical way, they surprisingly captured his features well. The leaflet contained absurd insults, such as how the emperor still wet the bed or he swallowed a fly while sleeping with his mouth open.

They were so childish that Adantadore burst into laughter.

"It seems like a child's prank. I can't believe I lost to this kid."

He dusted off his pants and got up.

"There's also a message from the palace," said the butler.

"What is it?"

"A military force has gathered to face Crockta. Rommel is in command, and the White Lion Knights have been summoned."

"Even our order..."

The White Lion Knights, led by him, were the empire's top force.

"The Emperor is furious at a pamphlet like this..." Adantadore grinned. Akantore, the new emperor, was still young. He lacked the qualities of an emperor. "And Crockta?"

"Per intelligence reports, he was recently spotted near Natalya Forest."

"Not Espada?"

"That's correct."

"I see."

Adantadore closed his eyes. A sensation, resembling a knot, kept surfacing in his chest, demanding something from him. It felt like if he could just do that one thing, the overwhelming emotions threatening to engulf him would subside.

His current self who couldn't wield the sword and an opponent he couldn't face–all these things suffocated him. He needed answers.

"Listen carefully."

"Yes."

"I am going to leave my position."

"...Yes?"

The butler's eyes widened in surprise. "I mentioned that the White Lion Knights have been summoned."

"Tell the emperor I'm sick."

"But..."

"If they look for me, tell them I'm completely bedridden and can't even move."

It was the truth. Adantadore was in a state where he couldn't do anything. He could go crazy if this continued. He had already damaged two swords, which had never happened before.

He needed to resolve this situation.

"For the time being, I'm officially bedridden. Tell them I went to a famous doctor in the northern elven lands."

"..."

"You know me. I never change my mind."

"Very well."

His faithful butler nodded. Adantadore's orders were absolute to the members of the Pacrinche household. He was the one who had resurrected the fallen lineage with a single sword.

"Also, pack my belongings."

"Where are you going?"

"To the Natalya Forest."

"Are you going to Crockta? That's dangerous!"

"I'm not going to fight."

Adantadore ran his fingers through his hair. "I need answers."

He had to ask Crockta. He needed to confront the orc whose specter stopped him every time he picked up the sword. He needed to get rid of the despair he felt from his inability to swing his sword. The answer laid within Crockta.

"Crockta is the public enemy of the empire. Even if you don't fight with him, making contact with him is..."

"All the more reason to meet him. Of course, that's not why I'm trying to meet up with him."

Adantadore smiled wryly. "The emperor is gravely mistaken."

Adantadore, who had directly witnessed Crockta's light, knew that if Crockta could freely wield that light, he could single-handedly destroy the empire.

Even if they deployed the White Lion Knights, Blue Dragon Lancers, or any elite force, they would be useless against that light.

"It's also for the empire's sake."

The butler bowed.