Chapter 75: Chiefdom (2)
“Will you be okay?” asked Crockta.
The young warrior Rakuta nodded.
Crockta and Tiyo were leaving for their destination—the Temple of the Fallen God. They couldn’t stay in the Kapur Village forever after all. Moreover, the chief of the Kapur Tribe was still that brutish orc, Kapur.
“I will protect this tribe with all of my strength,” said Rakuta.
Everyone knew that Kapur was a cruel chief who tormented his tribe, but they couldn’t deny that he was the strongest. Rakuta was accepting of the truth.
He said, “You could get rid of Kapur, but it wouldn’t lead to our freedom.”
Crockta nodded in agreement. Even if he got rid of Kapur for the tribe, it wouldn’t lead to the desired outcome. Kapur was still the strongest orc in the wasteland and had the power to protect his tribe in the tough northern region.
During the feast, Rakuta made a drunken confession to Crockta that his goal was to grow stronger in order to defeat Kapur and become the chief of the Kapur Tribe. He wanted to make the tribe prosper.
Crockta felt proud of Rakuta and also sorry for him. Crockta had received teachings from great warriors since his days as an apprentice warrior, but Rakuta didn’t have anyone to help him grow stronger. Lenox, Hoyt, Tashaquil, Grant, Gultai, and Antuak had been the beacons that lit up Crockta’s path. Great teachers like that were the driving force behind the orcs on the continent continuing to uphold their code of honor and the legacy of warriors without losing their pride.
However, the northern region was different. Just like how its lands were barren, the northern region was devoid of teachers like those on the continent. Crockta wanted to help Rakuta, but what could he do for him?
“Crockta, how can I become strong like you?” asked Rakuta.
Crockta laughed. There had been a time when he just repeatedly swung his greatsword on Orcrox’s training grounds. Back then, he was just a beginner orc who was relentlessly chastised by Lenox, but now someone was asking him how to become strong like him.
‘What made me strong?’ Crockta thought as he looked back on his past.
He had experienced countless fights since the time he had faced the mutant werewolf at Orcrox to when he had hunted down the Behemoth, and he had wanted to give up many times. Yet, he had managed to win over those thoughts—sometimes alone and sometimes with friends.
Crockta suddenly cried out, “Never back down!”
All of the great warriors he had encountered never gave up trying to achieve their goals and placed everything they had on the line to do so.
“Never back down,” Crockta repeated.
Rakuta nodded, with a smile blossoming on his face. It seemed that he had gotten the answer he had been looking for.
“Thank you,” replied Rakuta.
“Don’t doubt yourself,” said Crockta as he extended his fist.
Although Rakuta was unfamiliar with the old greeting of orcs, he smiled and bumped fists with Crockta.
Then Crockta headed out to depart from Kapur village with Hammerchwi and his warriors. Chief Kapur still had a servile attitude as he sent off Hammerchwi, but he looked at Crockta with eyes filled with fear and hostility as they parted.
Crockta and Hammerchwi’s party headed farther north. The two orcs joined paths so that they could journey together until Hammerchwi and the chieftain’s warriors returned to the chiefdom, and Crockta left to advance to the territory of dark elves where the temple was located. Crockta had put a hold on the offer to become one of the chieftain’s warriors. He wanted to first learn more about the circumstances in the northern region.
“Where is my father...?” muttered Tiyo suddenly.
He didn’t sound particularly sad. In fact, he was more intent on exploring the north than looking for his father.
Tiyo hummed a song as he said, “I’m sure he’s doing well somewhere.”
Zeulta interrupted him, “Gnomes sometimes appear in the mountain range near human territory, so he might be around there somewhere.”
“Ohh... you are kinder than I thought,” commented Tiyo.
“Hmph, I was just chiming in, you little kid!” said Zeulta with a flustered look.
“I said nothing,” replied Tiyo.
“Hmph!” grunted Zeulta.
Zeulta then went past them and rode ahead, leading the way. Tiyo snickered. An odd friendship had sprouted between the two of them after all that bickering back and forth.
Crockta, Tiyo, Hammerchwi, and his warriors rode their karuks through the wasteland. Once they exited the area surrounding the wall of darkness, the climate began to change, and plants and forests began to appear.
“No one occupies the land around here. You can say it’s abandoned land,” explained Hammerchwi. “It’s where those who don’t belong to their own species live.”
“Like orcs and dark elves?” asked Crockta.
“Yes, and humans and gnomes.”
The place reminded Crockta of Anail, the city of freedom where runaways gathered. An image of Jeremy popped up in Crockta’s mind.
‘Is he still under Derek? Or has he been attacked by Derek as I predicted?’ wondered Crockta.
However, Crockta knew that he didn’t have to worry about Jeremy. Jeremy was a man who could forge his own destiny.
Suddenly, the karuk that Crockta was riding stopped.
“Kereuk,” it cried.
Crockta caressed the karuk’s head.
Crockta and Tiyo had received their own karuks for traveling. Unlike their appearances, karuks were docile creatures, and beginners could learn to ride them without much difficulty.
“There’s someone there!” shouted the warrior leading the way.
Crockta could see a group of unidentifiable creatures standing by the horizon. Hammerchwi made a gesture, and the warrior at the front of the group nodded in understanding.
He spurred his karuk and said, “I will go check!”
The warrior then quickly rode toward the horizon and approached the unknown group.
“Is it okay for him to go alone?” asked Crockta.
“No one will dare attack the chieftain’s warriors. Attacking us is like declaring yourself as an enemy of the chiefdom,” stated Hammerchwi proudly.
Crockta grinned. He could sense that Hammerchwi was emphasizing the chiefdom’s power to try to lure him over to their side.
“Haha! Everyone, look at my sense of balance!” yelled Tiyo suddenly.
Tiyo, who had grown bored while waiting for the warrior to return, had climbed on top of the karuk’s horn and was performing tricks. The karuk seemed to be fond of Tiyo and snorted as he raised Tiyo high up into the air. Tiyo then made his signature move and blasted the General’s iridescent lights.
“This is what a gnome is!” he exclaimed.
Zeulta burned with competitive spirit as he watched Tiyo.
“I... I can do it too!” Zeulta yelled.
He tried to climb onto the karuk’s head, but the karuk was unable to bear his weight and turned its head away, causing Zeulta to roll across the ground.
Tiyo laughed at him from the top of the karuk’s horn. “Hahahahaha! If you were intending to make us laugh, then it’s a success!”
“Ugh...” muttered Zeulta.
The other warriors shook their heads.
“Hmm...” Hammerchwi, who had been watching the two, started twitching strangely as if he wanted to get up.
Crockta held him back. “Don’t imitate them.”
“Hmm... I was just feeling a little stiff,” said Hammerchwi.
Yet, even as he said those words, he kept glancing over at his karuk’s horn. It was obvious he wanted to try it.
Then, the warrior who had approached the mysterious group returned.
“They are of our species, but they are slave traders,” he explained.
“Is that so?” Hammerchwi’s face turned into a scowl.
“Did he say slave traders?” asked Crockta in surprise.
“...”
On the continent, it was illegal to sell and own slaves. Although there had been the elf-trafficking incident in Arnin, it was a crime that had occurred in the shadows. Usually, if a species were exposed for slave trading, all other species and cities would turn their backs on them and form a coalition to punish them. However, it was different in the northern region.
“Let’s just go,” said Hammerchwi as he rode forward on his karuk.
Watching Hammerchwi move ahead of him, Crockta felt disappointed. He had thought Hammerchwi was different from other orcs in the northern region, but it turned out that Hammerchwi was also someone who followed the ways here.
“Hmph, slave traders. How barbaric!” the ever-fearless Tiyo shouted very loudly as if he wanted everyone to hear him.
The warriors’ eyebrows twitched. Hammerchwi raised his hand to calm his warriors, who glared at Tiyo and then steered their karuks forward. Meanwhile, Tiyo looked at Crockta with a disgruntled face, and Crockta nodded at Tiyo in response. He understood Tiyo’s feelings perfectly.
As the group made their way farther north, they ran into the group of slave traders.
“Hello, how have you been, great warrior Hammerchwi!” greeted one of the slave traders.
Upon recognizing Hammerchwi, the slave traders bowed their heads in respect.
The slave trader that spoke earlier smiled in an ingratiating manner as he continued, “If you take a liking to any of them, please let us know. We would be honored to offer one of them to you, great warrior.”
“No, thanks,” replied Hammerchwi.
Then Crockta, who was behind Hammerchwi, froze at what he saw. There was black smoke rising from a burning village a bit farther north. The sounds of colliding weapons and echoing screams rang from the village as armed orcs kidnapped and dragged villagers over to the slave traders. The slave traders then locked up the slaves in the luggage compartment of their wagon. These slave traders weren’t just transporting slaves; they were hunting slaves.
The villagers who had been turned into slaves cried out from the luggage compartment.
“This—!” Tiyo was about to say something when a loud roar tore apart the sky and shook the horizon.
The karuks jumped and thrashed in surprise, and the warriors covered their ears while writhing in pain. The slaver trader they had been speaking to panicked and collapsed with blood trickling from his ears.
Hammerchwi looked at the source of the sound. It was Crockta.
“Do you know the meaning of the word I just shouted?” asked Crockta.
Hammerchwi’s face stiffened. He knew what it meant. It was a word that most orcs in the northern region had forgotten, but old orc warriors still remembered it. In the days long passed, that shout would resonate wherever an orc was. However, times had changed, and now that word sounded so foreign to him. It was a word that was now a dim and hazy memory from the distant past.
“...I do,” answered Hammerchwi.
“Then you know what I will do next,” said Crockta.
Hammerchwi sighed. “Do you have to do that?”
“I should be the one asking,” replied Crockta.
He extended his hand and pointed at a slave being dragged by a slave trader. That slave was an orc just like them.
“Do they have to do that?” asked Crockta.
Hammerchwi solemnly shook his head. He also disliked the notion of slaves, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. The chieftain permitted turning others into slaves and trading them as a means of war.
“I don’t like it either, but I have to obey the chieftain’s laws. It is none of your concern,” said Hammerchwi.
Crockta laughed. He no longer respected Hammerchwi.
“Great warrior Hammerchwi, you don’t deserve the title of a warrior,” Crockta stated.
“What?” Hammerchwi glared at Crockta.
Hammerchwi’s warriors clutched their weapons and prepared to fight.
“Just because I favor you doesn’t mean you can overstep your boundaries. There are laws specific to this place, Crockta!” Hammerchwi yelled. He raised his hammer and continued, “You don’t know anything because you are from the peaceful south. The north is a place where you die if you don’t kill. The weak are weeded out.”
Hammerchwi got off his karuk and angrily spat out, “Do not impose the laws of a weak land on us.”
Crockta burst into laughter and got off his karuk too.
“How odd.” Crockta chuckled. “Orcs like you are easily mistaken. You think it’s weak to stand for what is right. You mistake swinging weapons and hiding your cowardice as strength when it’s actually the opposite.”
“...”
“Without a doubt, there isn’t an orc weaker than you on the continent,” declared Crockta.
The Ogre Slayer flashed under the northern sun. Now, all of the chieftain’s warriors and Hammerchwi were aiming their weapons at Crockta. However, instead of making Crockta tense, this situation put his mind at ease. After all, he was an orc who had learned the oath of the warrior from Lenox. The orc warriors that he knew did not submit to anything and freely carried out what they believed in. They weren’t afraid of fighting, but they feared becoming cowardly.
Crockta beamed ear to ear as he said, “I will ask you one final time. Hammerchwi, are you alive right now?”
“Quit your absurd talk from the past!” yelled Hammerchwi.
Crockta’s lips curved upward again. He had been with orcs who put that absurd talk into practice. His teachers were warriors who had willingly cast off their lives to truly stay alive. Compared to them, the orcs here were so puny. The orc that they called a great warrior was an orc who turned away despite knowing what was wrong. It was such pathetic self-pride.
Then Tiyo spoke up, “Crockta, quickly finish them off. I’m sleepy. I will give you ten minutes.”
Tiyo was provoking Hammerchwi and the others because he knew Crockta could handle all of them on his own.
The warriors took a step forward in unison, and Crockta swung his greatsword around in the air.
“Five minutes is enough,” said Crockta as mana rose from his greatsword.
***
“Is everyone okay?” asked Hammerchwi while gasping for breath.
All of Hammerchwi’s warriors were sprawled out on the ground. Zeulta somehow managed to get up even though half of his thigh had been cut off.
He tried to crawl his way to Hammerchwi but ultimately collapsed and moaned in pain, “Ughhhh...”
“Crockta...” muttered Hammerchwi as he gazed at the remains of his hammer.
His prized hammer was completely destroyed. It was a rare steel weapon that the chieftain had gifted him, but Crockta’s swordsmanship had shattered it completely. Crockta was so much stronger than Hammerchwi had expected. The destroyed hammer was clear evidence of their vast difference in strength.
“Uhh... I’m okay,” said one of the warriors.
Hammerchwi looked around to make sure the warriors were okay and noticed that Crockta hadn’t killed any of them. However, Crockta had said while leaving with his gnome friend that he wouldn’t show them any mercy next time.
Nonetheless, Crockta’s mercy hadn’t extended to the slave traders. He had cut off their arms, and there had even been a slave trader who died from shock. After that, Crockta and Tiyo freed all of the captured slaves.
“Dammit...” muttered Hammerchwi.
“Hammerchwi, are you still alive?” Crockta’s voice popped up in Hamerchwi’s mind.
Crockta’s question was the old greeting of orcs that no one in the northern region really remembered. Hammerchwi understood the meaning of the greeting, but he had never put much thought into it.
“Perhaps...” he murmured.
Hammerchwi had lost miserably, but for some reason, he didn’t feel annoyed. He was an old soldier who didn’t have many days left to live. What he had witnessed today might just be the beginning of change. Would he be able to see the northern region change during the remaining years of his life? Perhaps, he had run into a stroke of luck during his last years to have met a warrior who could change the northern region.
The chieftain was definitely a strong orc. Hammerchwi had never seen such overwhelming force and strength. Even Crockta, who had defeated him and all of the warriors, was no match for the chieftain. Yet...
“Hammerchwi, you must always remember this word,” Hammerchwi recalled.
Back when Hammerchwi had been merely a child, his grandfather had been an old soldier like Hammerchwi’s current self. One day, his grandfather called over the young Hammerchwi and said, “An orc who remembers this can become great, but an orc who forgets this will wander aimlessly for the rest of his life, so always remember this.”
Yet, Hammerchwi had forgotten that very thing. It wasn’t just him; no orc in the northern region remembered it—that dead word. However, he had heard that word come alive with his own ears today. It had returned to his mind as a thunderous roar that shook the earth.
“Have I been wandering aimlessly?” Hammerchwi sighed.
The warriors around him started to stir after regaining consciousness. As Hammerchwi watched them, he decided to say that word. It produced a resonance that shook his heart.
“Bul’tar.”
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