Praise the Orc

Chapter 198: Like a King, Like a Slave (2)

"What on earth are you pondering so deeply about?"

Crockta couldn’t help but ask the elf.

The line etched between the elf's brows never seemed to fade. Even as the group was eating or walking, the elf was always in thought.

And even while doing so, he occasionally glanced at Crockta, Zankus, and Arakunta. It was as if he was observing them, exploring their ecosystem on his own.

Crockta felt like a monkey being studied by a zoologist.

"I don't know what it is but let me help you."

The elf looked at Crockta earnestly. His gaze was deep.

Yet, his response was a refusal.

"No. It's a problem that I must solve myself."

"Then stop looking at us. Do you need to stare at us to find that answer of yours?"

The elf nodded.

"Yes."

“Hah... then what is that problem of yours? What is it that it’s making you stare at us while you’re so deep in thought?”

“I cannot tell you that.”

"Ugh, how frustrating!"

Watching that scene, Arakunta laughed.

"He's a secretive one. But he's not a bad person, so please calm down."

Crockta nodded and chewed a big bite of meat.

"Fine. Anyway, that’s that."

They were having a meal. It was deer meat hunted by Zankus and cooked by Tiyo.

Since Arakunta and the elf joined them, their pace had slowed a bit, but they still steadily advanced toward Orcrox. If they continued without much difficulty, they would arrive soon.

"The elf guy is one thing, but what about those guys?"

"Passersby, aren't they?"

"But don't they seem to be hiding rather than just passing by?"

Zankus said as he chewed on the deer meat.

"I think they might be bandits."

As their conversation continued, the bushes rustled.

While Crockta's group was eating, a group of humans approached them through the bushes. They seemed to have tried to hide their presence, but sneaking up on Crockta's group was impossible.

They had all been aware of their approach but decided to simply watch them do so.

"T-they’re pretty aware of their surroundings!"

"But it changes nothing, you orcs!"

The humans burst out of the bushes.

They were all armed. It seemed they had taken care in selecting their gear, wearing leather armor and carrying swords and shields.

Their stance was clumsy, but their spirit was high.

"In the name of the gods!"

"Punish the orcs!"

They charged as a group at Crockta and his companions.

Crockta's group exchanged glances as if they were trying to avoid doing work. Their gazes darted back and forth before eventually settling on Crockta.

Faced with their heavy gazes, Crockta could no longer resist and stood up.

He raised his God Slayer.

"What a hassle."

As Crockta stepped forward, swinging his sword flat, a gust of wind blew. The opponents were knocked down by the force and the wind pressure.

"Gasp!"

"What power!"

Overwhelmed by his martial prowess, their morale instantly broke. They couldn't advance further and merely stared at Crockta. Those who had fallen got up with their hands shaking with their weapons.

"H-how is his power so...!"

They clutched their necklaces and holy symbols, seeking their gods.

It seemed like they weren't bandits, but rather a group convinced by the oracle to attack the orcs. Besides the expedition, small groups formed to assault orcs also existed.

However, they had picked the wrong opponent.

"Follow the oracle! For the War God!"

"For the Goddess of Mercy, we shall spill blood!"

"The oracle shall be fulfilled!"

They charged at Crockta again. But Crockta's God Slayer cut through all their weapons. As his greatsword plunged into their shields, he sent them flying with the impact.

They were simply no match.

"Are you gonna keep going?"

Crockta wandered around the fallen humans. His shadow cast over them made the humans squirm and try to escape.

Crockta chuckled and stepped harder on one's chest, pressing down until a suppressed groan escaped from beneath him.

"So, the gods have ordered our deaths?"

"Keugh... That’s right. It was the Goddess of Mercy herself who said so! How vile must you orcs be for even the Goddess of Mercy to forsake her compassion and command us to take up our swords! For the Goddess!"

As he struggled and swung his weapon again, Crockta pressed down even harder, causing him to drop his weapon.

"Kuuuugh..."

"Gods, huh..."

Crockta shrugged.

"Have you ever thought about the legitimacy of the existence of those gods that you follow?"

"What kind of nonsense are you..."

"No? Let me tell you, then. They are far from perfect. They lie and they deceive others for their own benefit, just like us."

Crockta knew about the oracle.

That's why he understood that the gods were not infallible. They had urged their followers to wage war against Crockta and the orcs, alleging they were conspiring with the Ashen God. Even from this, it was clear that they were lying.

Crockta had indeed encountered the Ashen God before, but they were more enemies than anything else.

Given the circumstances, it was no wonder that humans, lured by such an absurd oracle and rushing in like moths to a flame, appeared pitiful and absurd to Crockta.

"We have not conspired with the Ashen God."

"What is this nonsense that you’re spewing!"

"We also have no intention of starting a war."

"Shut up! We will get rid of you!"

"I see. Then, so be it."

The humans had no interest in listening to Crockta.

Was it a misunderstanding on their part that Crockta was extending words instead of his sword, or was their faith so strong that it was blinding them?

Crockta lifted his God Slayer to verify this. He opted to extend his sword instead of his words now.

"H-hold on a second..."

The greatsword began to fall slowly.

The struggling human grabbed the blade with his hand. His hands couldn't fully grasp the vast blade of the God Slayer.

"Grrr..."

He couldn't withstand Crockta's strength either.

He shut his eyes tightly as he saw the tip of the sword descending toward his neck.

"H-hold on...!"

"Since you’re saying that you’re going to kill me, I have no choice but to kill you," Crockta smirked.

As the tip of the sword touched the man's Adam's apple, he shouted.

"P-please, spare me!"

The blade halted.

"You want to be spared?"

"P-please, just stop for a second..."

"Didn't you say you were going to kill me and the orcs?"

"I-I give up... I won't do it."

As the man was crying out with his eyes tightly shut, tears seeped through.

"I surrender! Spare me!"

His hands grasping the blade trembled as he shouted.

"Do the rest of you feel the same?"

Crockta looked around at the other believers. They were watching the scene between Crockta and the man with bated breath.

One by one, they nodded.

Crockta sheathed the God Slayer.

"Understood."

The man hastily got up and stood by his group. They looked at Crockta and hesitated.

Crockta continued, "Then drop all your weapons."

After exchanging glances, they dropped their weapons one by one. Spears, swords, and shields cluttered the ground.

"And..."

Crockta slung the God Slayer over his shoulder.

"Piss off."

As soon as those words were spoken, the believers turned and started to run.

Crockta admired their swift movement and returned to his group. It was a victory that was expected, so everyone looked unimpressed.

"Foolish humans... daring to do that without recognizing the great Crockta!"

Only Arakunta was delighted by Crockta's skills.

Crockta smirked and sat back down to pick up the rest of his deer meat. It hadn't cooled yet.

"Hey."

It was the elf who spoke up.

"Why did you just let them go?"

Crockta chewed on the meat and replied, "What’s wrong with that?"

"They might be running now but they’ll come back later. They'll either join the expedition or attack other orcs."

Crockta nodded.

"Yeah, probably."

"So why did you let them live?"

"Well..."

Crockta chuckled, then swallowed the meat and said, "Because it’s a nice day, isn't it?"

"What are you saying?"

"The sun is shining, the breeze is cool, and that’s why I let them live. Those people are merely ensnared by their god’s oracle; what fault do they have?"

"..."

"Also, a warrior does not attack those who have laid down their weapons."

The elf's brow furrowed deeper.

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely."

Crockta finished his meal and stood up.

"Now, I have something to tell you."

"What is it?"

"I don’t know what's troubling you, but don't be too serious. Life is too short for worries alone, so focus on the present."

Crockta grinned.

"Are you living right now?"

The elf's eyes widened as his brow smoothed out instantly.

His face, free from worries, showed the pure and bright image of a young elf. He stared at Crockta quietly, then furrowed his brow again, but a faint smile remained on his lips.

"Right, that was your way of greeting,” the elf muttered to himself.

The elf and Crockta's group resumed their journey. They were going into a familiar terrain for Crockta.

Orcrox was just around the corner.

* * *

There was a king who lived in the dark streets of Anail. There wasn’t a single soul in the city who could oppose him.

However, it did not mean that he tyrannizes the citizens; rather, he cunningly tempted them through contracts at moments they overlooked using his deep understanding of their psychology. Those who were deceived into making a contract and then breaking it were met with pain worse than death.

That was his way.

Moreover, he also meticulously kept the promises he made himself.

"Thompson," the man quietly called out the name of the other.

The face of the other man was distorted.

"And your answer?"

"..."

"Then you will only suffer more..."

The king of Anail gestured with his hand.

A painful groan escaped Thompson's lips.

"Argh..."

The man chuckled.

"This could’ve been avoided if you had just listened to me."

Gritting his teeth, Thompson responded.

"Don’t give me that... nonsense..."

"You seem like you’re not fully understanding your situation."

The laughter of the man echoed in the enclosed room.

Thompson closed his eyes as his body shivered. He hadn't anticipated the man would take such drastic steps. After staying quiet for so long, why would he suddenly turn the blade toward him?

Despite his best efforts to resist, what was inevitable was inevitable.

After imagining numerous scenarios in his head, Thompson saw the man's hand moving again and eventually bowed his head.

"Stop."

"Giving up now?"

"Stop it, I get it."

The man chuckled softly.

"People are interesting. They challenge even when they know the outcome. Again and again, with the vain belief that someday it will work out."

"..."

"That's the weakness of humans, Thompson."

Unable to bear it anymore, Thompson shouted.

"Hah, stop imitating that bastard's way of speaking!"

Surprised by the sudden outburst, the man said, "W-why are you yelling all of a sudden, Thompson?"

"Enough! You cheated, didn't you!"

Thompson pointed at the chessboard between them.

"You played like a complete novice before, but as soon as we put some money on the line, you suddenly become the chess master? What kind of cheating chess are you playing here?"

"Ah, that's just because I studied after losing to you. I might not have studied in school, but I have a good head on my shoulders. I think I got it after learning it a few times. Maybe your brain’s just turned into a rock because of your age!"

"You..!"

Rubbing his forehead, Thompson sat down heavily and took a deep breath.

"Huff, huff. Ah, dammit."

While the man chuckled at Thompson's reaction, he once again adopted a serious tone.

"The game's over. Now, let's execute the contract..."

"I told you to stop copying Derek!"

"So what! What’s wrong with it?"

He whistled long.

"He's already dead, isn't he?"

Jeremy grinned.

"Right, guys?"

The men in black suits observing the chess match in the room bowed their heads and shouted,

"Yes, Boss!"

"You’re right!"

"He is dead!"

"You killed him yourself, Boss!"

Jeremy shrugged.

"Told you."

Thompson shook his head at the grim spectacle.

"Things weren’t like this even when Derek was in charge... What is all this?"

"This is my style, so don't worry about it. Anyway..."

Jeremy cleared his throat.

"I heard those expedition people asked you to sell them some of your stuff?"

"Oh yeah, they did."

"Are you going to?"

"What?"

"Are you going to sell them your..."

"You brat, are you disrespecting me? Huh!"

Thompson stood up abruptly, flipping the chessboard.

"I am Thompson. I never break my integrity. Crockta and Hoyt are my friends! Do you think I would even consider selling goods to them!"

"Ah, no! Damn!"

Jeremy’s face twisted.

"Why did you flip the chessboard!"

"Oops? That was my bad. That's what you get for saying such things. It's actually all your fault."

"You’re a straight-up scammer!"

"Are you calling a merchant who lives on credibility a fraud? You sound like a gangster!"

Thompson, leader of the Thompson Trading Company, the rising star of the trading world, and Jeremy, the king of Anail's dark streets, pointed fingers at each other.

Those were the two magnates of Anail.