Praise the Orc

Chapter 115: Making Noise From the East, Attacking From the West (1)

Shireuga, engulfed in the lingering feelings of the battles that had just occurred, tried to catch his breath. He had ripped apart and slaughtered any opponent he could get his hands on. He had gleefully crushed the skulls of those begging for their lives, and then erupted in laughter as he grabbed their brains and scattered them in the air.

But this wasn’t his usual self. It wasn’t the way Shireuga, the Great Warrior of the chiefdom who courageously roamed the battlefields, fought. He was the son of Shiktulla, the greatest warrior of the Iron Axe Tribe and had a reputation to live up to. He clutched his restless heart as the pounding in his chest shook his whole body. With each pulse, he was taken over by a thirst for blood. A dark elf who had been hiding behind a building came swinging his sword. Shireuga grabbed the throat of the dark elf.

“Ahh!”

The dark elf’s eyes grew wide. Shireuga tightened his latch on to the dark elf’s neck. Locked in the grip of death, the dark elf drooled as life slowly faded from his eyes.

Shireuga lifted up the dark elf and stared into his frightened and half-open eyes. He saw his own reflection in the dark elf’s eyes and realized that his eyes were the same red as the chieftain’s. Shireuga was taken aback by the sight and swung his fist to crush the dark elf’s face. The dark elf’s corpse drooped like a rag. Shireuga tossed the body aside and rested his hand on his forehead, deep in thought.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“Die!”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“Victory for the chiefdom!”

He could hear the noise of the battlefield in the background. The orc warriors had successfully killed all of the dark elves who could fight. Only women, children, and the elderly who were unable to fight remained. Ultimately, the chiefdom had succeeded in invading Ameranyan.

However, even after the battle ended, the slaughter continued. As Shireuga observed the scene, he began to feel like he had lost touch with reality.

He took a step forward, and his foot got caught on an amputated leg. It was a woman’s leg—thin and frail. He walked over it and continued moving forward.

He suddenly locked eyes with someone... the eyes of a dead child. Unable to close his eyes, the child was staring at him without a body. His head had been flung away from its body and was splattered on the ground while revealing its insides.

Shireuga walked past it and saw dark elves being dragged away by their hair with leashes on their necks. The dark elves who protested turned quiet once the orcs chopped the bodies of their friends, siblings, and families. Those who resisted died on the spot. But what burned in the dark elves’ eyes wasn’t submission. It was hatred.

Shireuga then suddenly locked eyes with an old dark elf.

‘Dark elves live twice as long as orcs. This dark elf must have lived an extremely long life. Has he seen something like this before during his lifetime?’

The elderly dark elf didn’t cry, nor was he in despair; he just stared at Shireuga quietly. Then, his head was chopped in half.

“How dare he stare at the Great Warrior. Hahaha...” A young warrior glanced over at Shireuga, who walked past them.

As he kept walking, Shireuga found an old Great Warrior who was observing the bloodbath that continued. It was Hammerchwi; he was observing the massacre with his arms crossed.

“Hammerchwi,” Shireuga called out to him.

“Shireuga,” he answered.

They could see the chieftain in the distance. Even among orcs, he looked like a giant. Each time he swung his limbs while laughing uproariously, buildings crumbled down, and dark elves died. He sought out each and every dark elf in Ameranyan with his Great Warriors.

“The battle has ended,” said Shireuga.

“Yes.”

“Do you know what the emotion I felt earlier was?” asked Shireuga as he looked at Hammerchwi. “I didn’t feel like myself earlier.”

“Shireuga...”

Earlier, when the chieftain had breached Ameranyan’s entrance and roared his battle cry, the orcs fell into a state of frenzy and maniacally slaughtered their enemies. Although they became stronger and faster, they turned into mindless beasts. Shireuga didn’t want to become like that ever again. The traces of madness still unsettled him.

“What did I...”

“It’s not just you,” replied Hammerchwi as he gestured at the orcs around them. Although most of the orcs were still destroying Ameranyan, some looked puzzled and grasped their heads in bewilderment. Their eyes were confused, and they seemed startled by the sight of the city.

“I’m not sure either,” replied Hammerchwi, but he understood what Shireuga was trying to say.

Shireuga was wondering what was happening to the chiefdom. Victory was the goal and task of the chiefdom, and they had just achieved an overwhelming victory, but could they call the sight in front of them a victory?

“Shireuga.”

“Yes.”

“You are Shiktulla’s son.”

“That’s correct.”

Shiktulla was the greatest warrior of the Iron Axe Tribe, and a renowned warrior of the north. The Iron Axe Tribe had fought against the chiefdom until the end, but the tribe ultimately lost to the previous chieftain and had been absorbed into the chiefdom. It was the outcome of a fair battle, and his father continued making his mark even after joining the chiefdom.

“Do you know what this word means?” asked Hammerchwi. He then whispered something in his ear. Shireuga’s eyes grew nostalgic. It was a word he had heard before. His father, Shiktulla, had taught him that word. His father’s forgotten voice came alive in his memory.

“Yes, my father sometimes repeated that word to himself.”

“Is that so?” Hammerchwi nodded. Then, he put his arm around Shireuga and led him away. “Don’t forget. You must remember.”

“What does it mean?”

“I’m not sure either, but...”

Suddenly, someone grabbed Hammerchwi’s foot. It was an orc. Although they had won the battle, some orcs were injured due to the dark elves’ resistance. The orc had been stabbed all over his body, and he was bleeding in pain. He was dying. He raised his eyes to look at Hammerchwi, who nodded.

Then, Hammerchwi’s hammer crushed the orc’s head with a clean blow. He relieved the orc from his pain.

Hammerchwi withdrew his hammer and continued, “One day, that word will give you the answer you desire.”

The old Great Warrior Hammerchwi smiled. The more he aged, the more he realized that he didn’t know anything. Everyone gets shipwrecked at some point in life. Sometimes because of others, and occasionally because of themselves. Those who didn’t know where they were going were ultimately pushed toward places they didn’t want to go. However, a single beacon of light from the lighthouse was enough to get back on course.

An orc soldier came up to them and announced, “Hammerchwi, Shireuga, the chieftain has summoned the Great Warriors.”

Hammerchwi and Shireuga immediately responded to the summon and headed back. When they arrived at the gathering, the chieftain was sitting on a throne at the center of Ameranyan’s public square. The chieftain had a smirk on his face as the newly enslaved dark elves bowed by his side.

All of the Great Warriors who made up the central power of the chiefdom were gathered there. Most of them were big shots who had reached the Pinnacle, and ordinary soldiers were no match for them. Although there weren’t many of them, they were skilled warriors who had been through countless battles.

The chieftain explained the next plan. As he listened, Shireuga watched the sorcerer by the chieftain’s side. The chieftain’s words had probably come out of the sorcerer’s head, but the sorcerer stood in absolute silence, completely concealed by his robe from head to toe.

“The next target is Juolaideh,” announced the chieftain.

***

“The orcs’ main unit is heading north to Nameragon. The unit that captured Nuridot is showing signs of joining them. Their numbers are insane. Let’s quickly head there,” urged Caska.

After hearing the unfortunate news about Ameranyan, they were marching toward Nameragon without taking a break. Caska, who felt guilty that she hadn’t listened to Crockta, became quiet and ran a tighter schedule.

“Is there a chance they might head to Juolaideh?” asked Crockta.

“We first detected them heading to Nameragon. They are probably planning to quickly advance to Spinora.”

Crockta nodded. According to her words, the next battle would take place in Nameragon. He had to get rid of the chieftain there. Their adventure in the north was close to reaching its climax. A lot had happened since then, and most of the problems had been caused by the crazy chieftain. He planned to return to the continent after restoring peace in the north.

“Let’s leave,” said Caska.

The unit began marching again. They were able to arrive at Nameragon in a short amount of time thanks to the cruel march. When they arrived, Nameragon was surprisingly quiet. There weren’t signs yet that a battle had started. Caska sighed with relief.

‘Was the chiefdom taking a break after they had rushed to strike Ameranyan?’ she wondered.

The orcs’ army had not yet arrived in Nameragon, but Crockta suddenly got a strange feeling. It was too quiet. His instincts alerted him that this wasn’t the atmosphere of a place where war was imminent. His entire body was telling him to look elsewhere. He looked outside the fortress, but he didn’t see the orcs’ army yet. Crockta activated a skill he didn’t want to use.

[Eyes of the Ashen God (Beyond Classification) has been activated.]

After learning that Elder Lord was a world that existed in another dimension, he felt repulsed by reading others’ lifespans. He had planned to quit using the skill, but he had to use it right this moment. The lifespans of Nameragon’s citizens and the soldiers popped up.

“...!” ‘No, this isn’t the place.’ Crockta stopped in his tracks.

“Crockta, what’s wrong?” Tiyo tilted his head curiously. Crockta didn’t respond and looked around Nameragon with the Eyes of the Ashen God. War was the intersection of life and death. The lifespans of those who were about to face war had to be a mixed bag of those on the brink of death, but Nameragon didn’t have anyone about to die soon.

There wasn’t anyone who would die in a week or two, which meant that there wouldn’t be a battle any time soon. He began to understand the source of his bad feelings. It meant that the chiefdom’s target wasn’t Nameragon.

Then where was the great army headed?

“They are making noise from the east, and attacking from the west,” muttered Crockta.

The bulk of the chiefdom’s army was definitely headed toward Nameragon, but a small unit of them was heading toward Juolaideh. With the strength of the chieftain and the Great Warriors who followed him, the chiefdom could seize the fortress even if most of their army was elsewhere. The crazy chieftain was powerful enough to accomplish such a feat. Juolaideh was in danger.

“Is Driden in Juolaideh?” asked Crockta.

“That’s what I heard. You mean the guy with the dual swords, right?”

“...”

Not even Driden could take on the chieftain. They had to head there immediately.

“Caska!” called out Crockta. She turned around.

“Crockta.” She still sounded down. Crockta paid no heed and approached her. She opened her eyes in shock at Crockta’s sense of urgency.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I don’t have time to explain everything.” Crockta quickly explained that he had a slight ability to foresee battles, and that the chiefdom’s main army was setting up a base and planning to use a small group of elite soldiers to strike Juolaideh. He made it clear that they didn’t have any time.

She didn’t believe him. “Even if that’s true, we can’t just leave when the bulk of the army is headed here. It’s too late for us to join the forces in Juolaideh.”

“Juolaideh is in danger.”

“Still...it can’t be helped,” replied Caska. The fall of Ameranyan had changed her personality, and she started taking the war more seriously. Even if Juolaideh fell to the chiefdom, it couldn’t be helped. They had to prioritize Nameragon and Spinora. If those two fell, it would lead to the destruction of dark elves in the north. It was more important to protect Nameragon.

“Then I will go by myself,” said Crockta.

Caska furrowed her eyebrows. “Crockta, it’s too late. Instead...”

“No, I have to go.” Crockta didn’t want the number of victims to increase. He had to kill the chieftain. Even if he failed, he had to at least try.

“What are you saying?” Tiyo and Anor approached them and stood next to Crockta.

“We can’t let Crockta go by himself. We are going with him.” Tiyo had never seen Crockta spout nonsense. Although Crockta made weird jokes and acted goofy sometimes, he always made the right decision regarding matters with lives on the line. He was a man you could trust in situations like this. If Crockta said Juolaideh was in danger, then Juolaideh was in danger. Tiyo trusted him, and Anor was on the same page.

Caska couldn’t help but nod in approval with both Tiyo and Anor looking at her. Although she was worried about Crockta, he was the strongest warrior she knew, and he was a man who chose his own path. He wasn’t someone who warranted her concern.

“I will give you the fastest karuk...” said Caska.

“No.” Anor cut her off. Crockta and Tiyo looked at him. It was rare for Anor to be so bold. “I heard there’s a museum in Nameragon.”

Although he didn’t have much affection for dark elves, Anor couldn’t just hide behind Crockta and Tiyo because he was scared. At least not while his home and innocent dark elves were slaughtered. He was a dark elf who was raised in Nuridot, and it was time for him to take action. He had to take matters into his own hands.

Anor continued, “I heard they have a preserved corpse of a super-fast mutant wyvern there, which used to instill fear in the citizens of Nameragon.”