Chapter 111-120 Victory or Death (Patreon)

Chapter 111

Victory or Death

Crack!

Kaden’s battleaxe tore through the neck of the third cockatrice.

The Lionheart warrior who had guided Karath’s group stared at the scene with his mouth hanging open.

He knew exactly what kind of monsters they were facing.

The Lionheart Tribe had once been an exceptionally powerful orc tribe. United by their pride as descendants of the final Grand Chief, they had numbered more than three hundred.

More than eighty of them had been warriors.

When they first discovered the ruins, their confidence had been absolute.

They left only twenty warriors behind to protect the tribespeople and sent everyone else to challenge the monsters.

More than half of that force was slaughtered.

The previous chief had naturally died during the battle as well. The orc who had spoken with Karath was a newly selected chief who had taken the position only after his predecessor’s death.

There was a cruel contradiction in the outcome.

The Lionheart warriors had survived only because the slaughter had been so overwhelmingly one-sided.

More than sixty warriors attacked, yet even after half of them died, they had inflicted almost no meaningful damage upon the monsters.

Had they seen even a small possibility of victory, courageous orc warriors would never have chosen to flee.

Only the complete hopelessness of the massacre forced the survivors to retreat.

Decline followed.

Although the tribe still possessed nearly three hundred members, barely more than forty warriors remained.

They could no longer protect the tribespeople properly from the monsters of the forest.

That desperate situation had produced the stone wall Karath saw around their settlement.

It was one of many attempts made by a tribe grasping at anything that might preserve its people.

What is this?

The guide had personally witnessed the catastrophe that brought his tribe to ruin.

He understood better than anyone how terrifying the cockatrices were.

The Greenskin warriors before him belonged to an entirely different class from the Lionheart Tribe.

He had already witnessed their strength during the journey, but those earlier battles were nothing more than a prelude.

Watching them toy with creatures that had seemed like messengers of death to the Lionheart Tribe was almost miraculous.

For an orc warrior who worshipped strength, one sight stood above all others.

“GRAAAAH!”

Crack!

Kaden crushed another cockatrice’s neck.

The guide could barely comprehend the strength required to destroy such a monster with a single blow.

At that moment, he was completely overwhelmed by the warrior named Kaden.

Then why is that warrior not the Grand Chief?

The strongest warrior became the chief.

That was the natural order of an orc tribe.

Why, then, was this magnificent warrior not their leader?

Could the Grand Chief standing over there be even stronger?

While the guide struggled with that question, Kaden finally severed the neck of the fifth and final cockatrice.

Crash!

The headless corpse collapsed to the ground.

Every warrior of the Greenskin Alliance turned toward Karath at almost the same moment.

Karath had exhausted himself pouring mana into the soundproof barriers that blocked the cockatrices’ sonic attacks.

He concealed every trace of fatigue, drew the deepest breath he could manage, and mixed a small amount of mana into it.

While repeatedly resisting the cockatrices’ sound waves, he had begun to understand part of their principle and imitate it.

Karath possessed an ordinary build by orc warrior standards.

“Victory or...!”

Yet a roar far too powerful to have emerged from such a body exploded across the battlefield.

“Death!”

“DEATH!”

Every warrior of the Greenskin Alliance completed the cry.

A strange shiver passed through the Lionheart guide.

The warriors’ answering roar caused every hair on Karath’s body to rise with exhilaration.

It was not merely the volume of the shout.

They had all grown.

Even without Karath commanding them personally, the battle had unfolded cleanly.

The result surpassed his expectations.

The cockatrices had been dangerous enough to reveal how far the warriors had progressed.

They were almost inferior versions of drakes.

Their size and physical strength fell somewhat short, but their sonic attacks made them more troublesome than ogres.

Perhaps Karath would eventually be able to create something resembling a lion’s roar through magic.

The cockatrices’ attacks had already shown him a new way to use mana.

His understanding remained incomplete, and for now he had only managed something similar to magical amplification.

Even so, Karath had never expected to discover magical principles outside Renstein’s books in this manner.

That was merely an additional reward.

“Return to the ancestral ruins!”

The main prize remained the ruins and the limestone used to build them.

Somewhere around the time the Five-Tribe Alliance formed, the cry “Rokta Ogar!” had begun spreading among its warriors.

Karath had originally popularised it within the Bloodclaw Tribe, and someone eventually asked what the words meant.

Karath had once again invoked the ancestors.

He claimed it was an ancient expression meaning “Victory or death.”

As a result, Rokta Ogar had become the official battle cry of the Greenskin Alliance.

Karath felt somewhat uncomfortable whenever he remembered how it began.

Still, few cries could have suited orcs better, so he allowed the tradition to remain.

The warriors collected the cockatrice corpses and returned to the ruins.

“As expected.”

Once Karath examined the structure from nearby, he confirmed that its pillars were made from limestone.

A smile spread across his face as he spent some time touching and examining one pillar after another.

“Grand Chief! Krog found something strange!”

Krog’s shout pulled him away from the stone.

“What did you find?”

“There is a path leading downward through a crack here. It resembles the entrance to Root’s freezer.”

One section of the ancient ruin had been heavily weathered and damaged.

Beneath the broken limestone floor, a passage descended into darkness.

Could something truly be hidden here?

The Lionheart chief’s story naturally returned to Karath’s mind.

“Remove the floor!”

The orc warriors obeyed.

Once the shattered stones were lifted away, a staircase concealed beneath the ruins appeared.

“Karath will descend first.”

The stairs were narrow enough that only one orc could pass at a time.

Darkness filled the underground passage, so Karath created a sphere of magical light and began descending.

When he reached the bottom and saw what waited there, his eyes widened.

“No one come inside! Remain outside and wait!”

Nothing dangerous occupied the chamber.

What he had discovered was something far more complicated.

Chapter 112

The Blood-Sealed Legacy

An enormous mural covered the underground walls.

Orcs appeared within it.

So did goblins and humans.

There were also long-eared people, creatures who appeared half human and half animal, and a race shorter than goblins but built with the same heavy muscles as orcs.

The mural depicted many different races.

In one section, all of them mingled and lived together.

The next showed humans gathering every race except the orcs and speaking to them.

The final image showed the orcs being attacked by all the others.

Karath understood what had happened in the distant past.

He finally knew why the orcs lived within the terrible Grimwood Mountains.

Humans had united the other races and driven the orcs away.

That was why Karath ordered the warriors to remain outside.

It was not because his former life as a human made him want to hide humanity’s ugliness from the orcs.

He never once thought that humans could not have committed such an act.

His first reaction was that they were perfectly capable of it.

Humans killed one another for authority and profit.

Manipulating other races to drive the orcs away was hardly surprising.

The mural merely revealed why orcs considered humans their eternal enemies without remembering the reason.

Karath kept the warriors outside because of the goblins.

The mural showed every race except the orcs joining the attack.

If handled poorly, this discovery could destroy the alliance Karath had only recently created.

Claiming that it happened long ago and everyone should simply laugh and live together now would be nonsense.

It was the kind of nonsense aggressors often used when telling their victims to forget the past.

Karath could accept the truth more calmly because he possessed memories from a previous human life and considered himself only partially orc.

Had he been born entirely as an orc, his response might have been far more violent.

Even now, the first sight of the mural had made anger surge through him.

He still had no intention of breaking the alliance with the goblins.

They were used as well.

The goblins had once joined humanity in attacking the orcs, yet now they also struggled to survive from one day to the next within the monster-infested forest.

After driving away the orcs, humans had apparently pushed the goblins aside as well.

That did not erase their ancestors’ actions.

An apology would still be necessary eventually.

Karath simply judged that this was not the right time.

Perhaps the other races in the mural still lived somewhere within the Grimwood Mountains.

As he studied the images, an intriguing possibility formed in his mind.

Humans might have used manipulation to remove the orcs first, then driven out every other race one after another.

What would happen if all those peoples, exiled into the same forbidden land, united beneath one alliance?

Hiding the mural had probably been the correct choice.

If the orcs saw it before meeting another race, their reaction to future contact would not be favourable.

The historical truth could not remain hidden forever.

The other races might still preserve memories of what happened.

Karath would first need to discover whether those memories remained.

If they did, he would demand an apology.

Even if they had forgotten, he intended to reveal the mural one day and require them to acknowledge the past.

He would need to question Berners as well.

If the goblins remembered this history yet entered the alliance without admitting it or apologising, Karath did not know how he would respond.

He possessed human memories, but he was still half orc.

Karath continued examining the underground chamber.

“Hm?”

One section among the murals contained writing instead of pictures.

He approached as though drawn toward it.

The script differed slightly from what Roberto had taught him and from the language used within Renstein’s books.

It resembled an archaic text from his former world.

Some words were familiar.

Others resembled expressions he knew.

Several were completely incomprehensible.

Karath read the inscription repeatedly.

“The blessing and curse the gods bestowed upon the orcs. Offer it here.”

That seemed to be the meaning.

A blessing and a curse given to orcs.

During his sixteen years as an orc, Karath had often considered something that fit the description.

The problem was that his conclusion came from the perspective of someone who had once been human.

Would the orc who wrote this inscription have reached the same answer?

“Nothing will be lost by trying. Surely the ruins will not collapse if the answer is wrong.”

Karath did not know what reward a correct answer might provide.

The murals and the discovery of limestone had already made this expedition an enormous success.

He abandoned his greed and raised his bone axe.

The blade passed lightly across his palm.

Blood emerged from the wound and dripped onto a small altar beneath the inscription.

Karath’s first thought had been the heart.

An orc’s heart continued beating madly through every dangerous and horrifying situation, filling the body with endless strength and courage.

Yet that same heart made orcs impatient and prevented them from thinking deeply.

The orc heart could therefore be called both a blessing and a curse.

Karath doubted an ancestor would demand that challengers tear out their own hearts, so he offered blood instead.

The droplets continued wetting the altar.

Then the blood disappeared into the stone.

Rumble.

The wall containing the inscription began rotating.

A hidden chamber opened behind it.

“It seems Karath chose correctly.”

He muttered with faint disbelief.

His answer had been influenced at least partly by his human perspective.

The fact that it matched the intention of the ancestor who created the trial suggested something unusual.

That ancestor was probably not a normal orc.

Karath approached the newly revealed chamber.

More murals and dense inscriptions covered its walls.

Then he saw what stood at its centre.

Karath’s eyes widened.

A massive double-bladed axe rested there, shining silver within the darkness.

Its size rivalled even Kaden’s enormous battleaxe.

Chapter 113

The Testament of Muhe Lionheart

Was the Lionheart Tribe’s legend actually true?

That was naturally the first thought to enter Karath’s mind.

The second came immediately afterward.

How could that weapon contain so much mana?

The flow within the axe was far purer and denser than the mana inside Karath’s drake-bone weapons.

Whether or not it was truly the legendary weapon, there was no doubt that it was an absurdly valuable treasure.

Karath approached as though entranced and extended his hand.

The cold sensation of metal met his palm.

The grip settled naturally into his hand, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Karath will need to build more muscle before he can use this properly.”

The axe was far larger and heavier than the bone axe he normally carried.

With his current strength, wielding it effectively would be difficult.

That did not concern him.

Now that the alliance possessed an iron mine, Karath had already conceived another method of strengthening his body.

After organising those thoughts, he turned toward the inscriptions and murals covering the walls.

Upon closer inspection, these murals differed from those in the outer chamber.

They showed a single orc swinging an axe through a sequence of different movements.

Karath stared at them in confusion, then began reading the accompanying text.

“My name is Muhe Lionheart, the final Grand Chief of the great orcs... Is that the correct interpretation?”

The writing differed slightly from the language Roberto had taught him and from the script used in Renstein’s books.

Karath tilted his head and continued reading.

Some portions were easy to understand.

Others stopped him completely.

Whenever that happened, he inferred the meaning from the surrounding context and continued.

After reading for some time, Karath murmured to himself.

“He was a remarkably enlightened orc.”

The ancestor who left these murals, Grand Chief Muhe Lionheart, had thought differently from ordinary orcs.

The murals outside depicted the orcs as victims driven away through human manipulation.

Muhe, however, believed that betrayal had only accelerated something that would eventually have happened regardless.

The reason was the answer to his final trial.

Orc blood.

Orcs were born with powerful bodies and impatient temperaments.

Because of that, they had failed to follow the path through which humans advanced.

Training, contemplation, preserving knowledge, and educating future generations did not come naturally to them.

In other words, orcs trusted their mediocre natural advantages, became arrogant, and eventually collapsed.

Karath had known many people like that during his former life.

They had been especially common during his school years.

Some students barely studied outside their normal classes and tutoring, yet still maintained relatively high grades.

They became satisfied with their position and stopped making any further effort.

Perhaps they saw no reason to work harder because their current results already seemed acceptable.

Or perhaps they believed that since they could perform that well without effort, they could simply begin trying when something truly important appeared.

Reading Muhe’s words reminded Karath of those people.

In truth, Karath himself had once belonged to a similar group.

He only began working seriously after entering university and discovering that his chosen field suited him.

His own problem had been laziness, while the orcs suffered from impatience, but the result was similar.

According to Muhe Lionheart’s record, ordinary orcs had once been far stronger than ordinary humans.

At some point, however, terrifyingly powerful individuals began appearing among humanity.

People capable of manipulating mana.

The record described humans who used mana in a manner resembling shamanic arts to unleash overwhelming attacks.

Karath immediately thought of Roberto.

Other humans used mana to strengthen their bodies until their physical abilities exceeded those of orcs.

Some even processed mana and wrapped it around their weapons to reinforce them.

A few orcs had also learned to manipulate mana in similar ways.

However, they were exceedingly rare, possessing exceptional talent even among naturally gifted orcs.

Worse, many of those geniuses lived according to instinct, died, and left almost none of their knowledge to the next generation.

It was painfully appropriate for orcs.

Their method of passing down knowledge had also been thoroughly orcish.

Back in my day, we learned with our bodies!

They simply beat younger orcs during sparring or duels and told them to learn through experience.

Humans, meanwhile, increased the number of mana users among their people through persistent training and the preservation of knowledge.

Occasionally, generations of accumulated knowledge coincided with a rare genius.

Muhe claimed that some of those humans became monsters capable of slaughtering hundreds of orc warriors alone.

The thought sent a chill along Karath’s spine.

In a battle between ordinary humans and ordinary orcs, the orcs possessed an overwhelming advantage.

The higher the level of the combatants became, however, the more the advantage shifted toward humanity.

Humans then compensated for their weakness among ordinary soldiers by gathering other races beneath their banner.

Karath’s eyes grew moist as he read Muhe Lionheart’s account.

You truly suffered, Ancestor.

The tale did not feel like someone else’s problem.

Muhe had possessed enough insight to identify the orcs’ weaknesses, yet another problem remained.

The miserable orcs refused to listen to him.

His method of persuasion had admittedly been poor.

Do not follow the impulses of orc blood. Preserve knowledge like humans. Teach your descendants as humans do.

That was apparently how Muhe attempted to convince them.

Considering the temperament of orcs, resistance had been inevitable.

They revered their ancestors, yet Muhe told them not to follow the blood inherited from those same ancestors.

He even urged them to imitate humans, their sworn enemies.

There was no chance that impatient orcs with little interest in deeper meaning would understand the true intention behind his words.

Muhe possessed the insight to recognise the problem but lacked the ability to persuade others and make them follow him.

If you are a descendant who solved my final question, then you too must understand the affliction of our people.

For you, I leave behind my final legacy.

Enlightened descendant, lead our kin and guide them out of this terrible land.

Muhe’s efforts had only caused the orcs to scatter further.

In the end, he left this final testament behind.

After finishing the record, Karath remembered the suffering he had endured over the past sixteen years.

How much trouble had the orcs’ temperament caused him?

Tears nearly filled his eyes.

This was not the moment to indulge them.

The most important section still remained.

So this was Roberto’s hidden secret.

The walls described how to reinforce the body with mana.

Beyond that, they explained how to cover a weapon in mana and strengthen it.

The results of Grand Chief Muhe Lionheart’s lifelong research had been preserved within the murals.

Chapter 114

The First Blessing Day

Karath climbed the stairs leading back toward the surface.

Unlike when he descended, he now carried an enormous silver double-bladed axe.

“Grand Chief, you have returned!”

“Could that be...?”

“Oh!”

“The weapon of the Grand Chief!”

The warriors greeting him stared with enormous eyes when they saw the axe in his hands.

“That is correct! This is the weapon left to his descendants by the former Grand Chief, Muhe Lionheart! It is the symbol of the Grand Chief!”

Karath raised the massive axe, which was nearly as large as an adult human.

The warriors erupted.

“The Grand Chief!”

“Oh!”

“Grand Chief!”

Several orcs became so overwhelmed that they dropped to their knees and bowed.

“Krog.”

Karath waited for the warriors to calm before calling his most dependable adviser.

“Yes, Grand Chief.”

“Lead the warriors and search the surrounding area. Look for places where white or grey stones similar to those used in these ruins gather naturally.”

“Do you intend to restore the ruins with that stone?”

“That is one purpose. However, according to the ancestors’ knowledge, this white stone possesses many other uses. We must secure it.”

The ancestral knowledge Karath referred to was actually knowledge from his former life.

Krog would naturally assume he had learned it inside the underground chamber.

“One more thing. Do not allow anyone except Karath to enter the underground ruins.”

“Is there some danger below, Grand Chief?”

“The deep resentment of the ancestors remains within that chamber. Anyone other than the Grand Shaman would be unable to endure it. Until Karath completes the purification, no one may approach.”

“Understood, Grand Chief.”

Krog’s eyes widened.

He swallowed and stared uneasily toward the descending staircase.

Naturally, Karath had invented the entire explanation.

It was a way to prevent anyone in the alliance from seeing the murals.

The time was not right.

Karath would reveal them when the orcs were ready to accept the truth and when the descendants of those who had wronged them were prepared to offer sincere apologies.

Creating that future would become one of Karath’s responsibilities.

He silently addressed Muhe Lionheart and the other orc ancestors.

Karath would create such a time.

Until then, he hoped they would forgive this small lie.

They had tolerated him invoking their names countless times and still granted him such extraordinary gifts today.

Surely they would overlook this much.

Once the road reached the ruins, Karath would need to remain here for some time.

He revised his future plans.

Karath had not fully learned the legacy Muhe Lionheart left behind.

He finished reading the testament but lacked time to study the mana techniques.

Remaining underground any longer might have worried the warriors enough to make them enter.

More importantly, no matter how talented Karath might be, he could not master the results of another Grand Chief’s lifelong research within a few minutes.

That was another reason he invented the purification ritual.

Under that excuse, he could repeatedly enter the underground chamber and gradually learn Muhe Lionheart’s legacy.

Karath continued considering his plans among the ruins.

“Grand Chief! We found it!”

Krog approached with a bright smile.

“We discovered a place filled with stones similar to these pillars!”

“Lead the way!”

Karath followed him, unable to suppress his smile.

Then his eyes widened.

A nearby cliff face consisted almost entirely of limestone.

It was the sort of discovery that made a prospector want to shout that he had struck gold.

“Berners!”

“Yes, Grand Chief!”

“Contact Blacksmith Village and Root immediately! Tell them to prepare to clear a road from Blacksmith Village to these ruins!”

“Understood, Grand Chief!”

There was no longer any need to hesitate.

Muhe Lionheart had left him methods of manipulating mana and the legendary weapon of the Grand Chief.

The ruins had also led him to a limestone deposit.

Karath had invoked the ancestors so many times, yet the orc ancestors had proved remarkably generous.

Their gifts did not end there.

“Warriors, collect the corpses of the cockatrices we hunted! We are returning to the Lionheart settlement!”

They had even provided chicken.

Or something close enough to it.

Fried chicken had been one of the most beloved late-night foods in Karath’s former world.

They possessed neither oil for frying nor flour for batter, but that hardly mattered.

“Today is the blessed day upon which we reclaimed the ancestral ruins and recovered the legacy of our ancestors! From this year onward, the Greenskin Alliance will commemorate this day with an annual festival called Blessing Day! Berners, inform Root and Blacksmith Village!”

If they could not fry the meat, they could boil it into a nourishing stew.

The joke was imperfect, but only Karath understood the difference anyway.

The important thing was that this was a day blessed enough to deserve a festival, and they possessed an enormous bird to cook for it.

When Karath returned to the Lionheart settlement carrying the cockatrice corpses and Muhe Lionheart’s axe, hundreds of orcs began bowing before him.

They were not warriors from his own alliance.

They were the same Lionheart orcs who had stared at him indifferently the previous day.

The corpses and legendary axe appeared to be all the proof they required.

“We apologise for failing to recognise the great Grand Chief. The Lionheart Tribe will follow you.”

“Please save us and every other orc within this forest.”

More than two hundred orcs knelt and worshipped him.

Perhaps this too was another gift from the ancestors.

“Rise! Today, the alliance will celebrate the recovery of the ancestral ruins! You are now members of the Greenskin Alliance, so join us and enjoy the feast!”

The Lionheart settlement immediately began preparing for a festival.

The centrepiece could only be cockatrice meat.

Each creature stood nearly three and a half metres tall and possessed a body comparable to a minotaur.

There were six corpses.

Even after feeding the Lionheart tribespeople and the Greenskin warriors, nearly three hundred people in total, a large amount of meat remained.

Karath placed some of it within clay vessels, filled them with magically created water, and cooked them over magical flames.

The result resembled boiled chicken stew.

Using the combined knowledge of orcs who had survived within the forest and nomadic goblins, they added several edible herbs that served as primitive spices.

Unfortunately, they possessed no vessel large enough to boil an entire cockatrice at once, so Karath could only prepare a limited amount of the special dish.

The lack of salt was also disappointing.

They would find that eventually.

They had already obtained iron and limestone.

The morning after the festival, Karath placed Krog in command of thirty alliance warriors and sent them back to Blacksmith Village.

They would gather the workers needed to clear a road from Blacksmith Village to the ruins.

Too many warriors had gathered at the Lionheart settlement, leaving too few available for construction.

Karath led the remaining thirty warriors back toward the ruins.

They needed to hunt enough prey to feed the Lionheart Tribe.

More importantly, Karath intended to begin learning the mana techniques left behind by Muhe Lionheart.

Chapter 115

The Mana Cultivation Method

Immediately after returning to the ruins with the warriors, Karath assigned them to guard the site and scout the surrounding area.

He then descended underground once more.

After entering the secret chamber hidden by Muhe Lionheart, Karath calmly began reading the mana techniques the former Grand Chief had left behind.

According to Muhe’s testament, humans called it a mana cultivation method.

Karath’s body itched with the desire to test each instruction immediately, but he forced himself to remain calm and read everything slowly from beginning to end.

The inscriptions had been written hundreds of years ago, so translating them required considerable time.

He reread the text several times until he understood most of its meaning, then sat cross-legged upon the floor and closed his eyes.

This is different from magic.

Even the starting point was different.

Magic required the practitioner to create circles around the heart.

The mana cultivation method was designed to strengthen the body.

To distribute mana evenly throughout the entire body at a similar speed, the practitioner first needed to gather it near the body’s centre, roughly around the navel.

Instead of forming a circle, they had to create a spherical mana core there, much like an oyster slowly producing a pearl.

Once the mana core formed, threads of mana could be drawn from it like strands unwinding from a ball of yarn.

Those strands would then travel throughout the body, supplying the precise amount of mana required for each movement.

In other words, Karath needed to create a new mana core near his navel in addition to the circles around his heart.

Fortunately, learning magic had already made him familiar with sensing and absorbing mana.

His body also possessed exceptional mana conductivity after he nearly died from excessive mana consumption while killing the drake.

Most importantly, he had something else.

Still seated on the floor, Karath took out a pouch made from animal hide.

Brilliantly coloured gems, each approximately the size of a table-tennis ball, rolled from within.

They were mana stones discovered while butchering the cockatrices for the festival.

Karath had already thought of them as inferior versions of drakes because of their sonic attacks.

Even so, he had never expected them to possess mana stones.

They deserved to be called inferior versions.

The stones were much smaller than the drake’s, and the amount of mana they contained was insignificant by comparison.

Still, this was far better than having nothing.

Karath selected one of the six mana stones and swallowed it without hesitation.

It was slightly hard but soft enough to chew.

He had noticed the same thing when he first touched the drake’s mana stone. Stones formed within monsters were somewhat softer than actual minerals.

Mana began leaking from it the moment his teeth broke its surface, so delaying would only waste energy.

Karath crushed the stone thoroughly and swallowed it.

Warmth travelled down his throat and spread into his stomach.

It felt strangely satisfying, like finishing a hot and hearty meal.

He had no time to enjoy the sensation.

The mana was already attempting to disperse throughout his body.

Karath focused and guided it according to the instructions upon the wall.

He held the mana that attempted to scatter through his abdomen.

Then, as though gathering tangled threads one strand at a time, he repeatedly drew it toward his navel and compressed it.

After an unknown amount of time, Karath released a slow breath.

A small mana core had formed.

According to Muhe’s record, even a talented practitioner normally required several months to reach this stage.

Those without talent could not even begin because they were unable to sense mana.

Karath’s highly conductive body and the mana stone allowed him to skip that long process.

He opened his eyes and looked at the remaining five mana stones within the pouch.

For a moment, he considered swallowing them as well and expanding the mana core immediately.

Karath shook his head and suppressed the temptation.

He had already decided upon another use for the remaining stones.

His goal was not merely to survive alone within the Grimwood Mountains.

He wanted to strengthen the alliance and ensure that every member could survive.

Karath could not protect everyone by becoming powerful alone.

Unless he somehow learned to create copies of himself, he could never stand in every location at every moment.

A considerable amount of time seemed to have passed.

After overcoming his greed, Karath rose for the sake of the warriors waiting above.

Seven days passed after Karath first formed his mana core.

Throughout that week, his daily routine remained unchanged.

He led the warriors to the ruins, trained the mana cultivation method underground, then returned to the Lionheart settlement.

Karath did not spend the entire day merely gathering mana inside his core.

He already understood how to form and expand it, so he could practise that anywhere.

“Hup!”

Instead, he focused upon learning how to use the mana stored within it.

Like the patterns formed when casting magic, Karath twisted the threads drawn from the mana core into specific arrangements and used them to strengthen different parts of his body.

The important part was distributing the mana correctly.

If he attempted a kick and poured mana only into his lower body, the force imbalance could destroy his waist.

The murals therefore depicted numerous movements and described how mana should be distributed for each one.

To be precise, the explanations were detailed by orc standards.

Compared with the magic books Renstein left behind, they felt painfully vague.

Even so, Karath followed the murals and began from the most basic movements.

Like an infant learning first to crawl, then walk, and finally run, he gradually studied how mana should flow through every part of his body during each action.

Training outside would have been humiliating.

On the first day, Karath carelessly distributed mana after relying only upon the written explanation and nearly separated his upper body from his lower body.

Remembering it still made him shudder.

Had the warriors witnessed that failure, the dignity of the Grand Chief would have shattered immediately.

The most unreasonable part was that ordinary beginners rarely experienced anything so dangerous.

The movements depicted on the walls were not only designed to teach mana control.

They were also exercises intended to help practitioners sense mana in the first place.

The movements stimulated areas where mana flowed easily or where physical reinforcement was especially effective.

The proper order was to practise those movements until the practitioner began sensing mana, then create a mana core and begin using the cultivation method seriously.

Karath had done the opposite.

He created the mana core first.

Worse, he used a mana stone to produce a core far larger than anything suitable for a beginner.

Had he swallowed every mana stone on the first day, the warriors might have discovered his corpse underground the next morning with his upper and lower body separated.

The Grand Chief failed the purification ritual and was consumed by the resentment of the ancestors!

A rumour like that would probably have spread across the alliance.

It would have been an excellent comedy if Karath were not the one dying.

Once again, excess was as dangerous as deficiency.

Karath almost wanted to kiss his past self for deciding to preserve the other mana stones.

The eighth day of his training arrived.

It was also the eighth day since Krog and the warriors departed for Blacksmith Village.

“Grand Chief! We have returned!”

“Grand Chief! Forgive us for not returning sooner!”

Krog and the exhausted warriors finally arrived.

They had constructed a waystation along the route from Blacksmith Village to the ruins, then continued clearing the road all the way to the site.

“You have done well.”

“No, Grand Chief. We apologise that it took us so long.”

Watching them apologise repeatedly made Karath feel guilty.

He had spent his days training underground.

He had even made simple soap from ash and animal fat, created water through magic, and bathed every day.

The returning warriors looked completely different.

Even beggars would have welcomed them as leaders of their gang.

Grime covered their bodies.

Their hair was wild, and mud, dust, and dried blood stained them from head to toe.

Combined with their enormous bodies and gleaming iron axes and spears, they looked less like beggars and more like armed bandits.

They had cleared the road at a frantic pace because they feared something might happen to Karath while he was supposedly isolated at the ruins.

Karath had expected the project to require at least ten days.

They completed it in only eight.

After subtracting the two days required to return to Blacksmith Village, they had built the waystation and cleared the road in merely six days.

No wonder they looked like that.

“Everyone will rest at the Lionheart settlement today. Migration and village construction will begin tomorrow.”

“We can still work, Grand Chief!”

“We are not so weak!”

“This is an order from the Grand Chief. Rest today.”

They needed to look at themselves before saying that.

Making them work any longer felt like something that would violate labour laws that did not even exist in this world.

“Orga, come to Karath tomorrow morning before construction begins. There is something important to discuss.”

“Understood, Grand Chief!”

Karath had specifically ordered Berners to ensure Orga accompanied the road crews.

After giving him the instruction, Karath sent the exhausted workers to the Lionheart settlement to rest.

He then ordered the warriors guarding the ruins to collect limestone and several other materials before returning with him.

Chapter 116

The Dream of a Walled City

Orga visited Karath early the following morning.

“Welcome, Orga.”

“What important command do you have for me, Grand Chief?”

“Come here and examine this carefully.”

Karath pointed toward the limestone the warriors had collected the previous day.

“This stone is called limestone. Karath discovered it through a revelation from the ancestors. There is a vast amount of it near their ruins.”

“Yes. The other warriors told Orga about it.”

“Like iron, limestone also contains a secret.”

“What secret, Grand Chief?”

“Look over there.”

Karath indicated a pile of powdered stone beside the limestone.

He had prepared it the previous evening.

First, he smashed the limestone with the enormous and durable axe of the Grand Chief.

Then he used magic to grind the fragments into fine powder.

“Mix this powder with sand, gravel, and other materials.”

Karath combined the ingredients with his hands while explaining.

“Then add water and mix everything again.”

He created water through magic, poured it over the mixture, and continued stirring.

“Shape it as desired and allow it to dry. The result becomes something like this.”

Karath pointed toward a hardened test piece he had prepared the previous night.

He had experimented with several different ratios and preserved only the sample that appeared strongest.

“Oh! You intend to use this instead of coating the walls with mud, Grand Chief!”

Several months of experience as construction foreman allowed Orga to understand immediately why Karath had shown it to him.

“That is correct. This material, called cement, does more than fill the gaps between stones.”

“What else can it do, Grand Chief?”

“If we pour it into a mould and allow it to harden, we can create stones with consistent shapes. Those blocks could be used to build walls or houses.”

Orga’s eyes widened.

“Karath intends to go further. We will deliberately create holes inside the blocks while moulding them.”

“W-would holes not make them weaker, Grand Chief?”

“No. We will place iron inside those openings.”

Orga froze.

“Iron will create the strongest framework available to us. The cement stones, which Karath calls concrete, will form the surrounding walls. Then we will fill every remaining gap with more cement.”

Karath pointed toward the hardened sample.

“With that method, we should be able to create houses and walls far stronger than our earthen buildings.”

Orga stared blankly at the experimental cement.

He was not confused.

His expression was closer to ecstasy.

Watching an orc enter a state of bliss was not particularly pleasant, even for someone who was half orc, but there was no better description.

Orga was an obsessive admirer of fortifications.

He was probably already imagining what kind of walls he could create with cement, concrete, and iron.

“Ahem. Unfortunately, there is one problem.”

Karath needed to interrupt that pleasant fantasy.

It had absolutely nothing to do with his discomfort at seeing Orga’s ecstatic expression.

“Wh-what problem, Grand Chief?”

Orga’s eyes reddened as though someone had violently awakened him from the sweetest dream imaginable.

Had Karath not been Grand Chief, Orga might have struck him for the interruption.

“This is not a completed product. The strength of cement changes according to the proportions of limestone, sand, gravel, and water.”

“Then we must discover the ratio that produces the greatest strength?”

“That is correct. That is why Karath summoned you.”

Karath paused and fixed Orga with an intense stare.

“He believes you can complete this task successfully.”

“M-me?”

“Yes. You.”

Karath nodded firmly before continuing.

“Karath has watched you fulfil your promise by constructing an enormous and formidable wall around Root. What impressed him most was your meticulousness.”

“Meticulousness...”

“While building such a massive wall, you inspected every detail to prevent even the smallest defect. Someone with that degree of care can certainly succeed.”

Orga slowly nodded as his resolve formed.

“I will attempt it.”

“Listen carefully, Orga. The Greenskin Alliance will continue growing. Far more migrants will eventually enter Root.”

“That is correct, Grand Chief. As long as you lead us, the alliance will continue advancing!”

“To accommodate them, Root and every other village must expand. That means taking more territory from the monsters.”

“With the Grand Chief, we can do it.”

“No, Orga. This cannot be accomplished by Karath alone. It requires you.”

Orga stared at him.

“You will create the strongest possible cement and concrete. With those materials, you will build houses and walls unlike anything that has existed before.”

Karath stepped closer.

“Walls so powerful that no monster will dare destroy them.”

Orga swallowed.

Karath continued before the construction foreman could respond.

“Imagine it, Orga. Thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, living happily inside walls you created!”

Orga remained completely still.

“Your meticulousness will produce cement and concrete. Your walls and houses will form a settlement larger than anything our people have ever known.”

Karath spread his arms as though presenting that future before them.

“A city! You will build a city where countless members of the alliance can live safely and happily!”

Orga reacted violently once the speech ended.

His eyes became bloodshot as though he had encountered an enormous monster comparable to a drake.

His entire body trembled.

Since he was an orc, the trembling naturally came from excitement rather than fear.

“A city... walls... cement... concrete... meticulousness... Heh... heh heh...”

Orga continued muttering those words while shuddering uncontrollably.

Karath watched him in silence.

The persuasion had apparently worked a little too well.

Chapter 117

Buddy’s Unexpected Gift

After filling Orga’s head with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm and sending him away, Karath left the house to attend to his remaining business.

“Woof! Woof!”

The first to greet him outside was Buddy, whom he had not seen for some time.

The journey here was long and difficult, so Karath had left him at Blacksmith Village. Apparently, the young wolf had followed Krog’s group all the way to the Lionheart settlement.

“Hm?”

For some reason, the Lionheart tribespeople stood a considerable distance from Buddy while wearing troubled expressions.

“Grand Chief?”

“Yes. What is it?”

Once again, the Lionheart chief stepped forward on behalf of the others.

“What exactly is that wolf?”

“Ah, Buddy surprised you. Krahahaha! He is a young Giant Wolf.”

“A Giant Wolf?”

“That is correct. Giant Wolves must not live around this area.”

“No, Grand Chief. Packs of Giant Wolves occasionally pass through this region.”

His response differed from what Karath expected.

“Then perhaps you have never seen a Giant Wolf cub.”

“We have seen several cubs around that size.”

Karath tilted his head.

“But none of the Giant Wolf cubs we saw looked like that, Grand Chief.”

“What is different about him?”

“First, Giant Wolves obey no one except the leader of their pack. That remains true even among members of the same species.”

“Krahahaha! Buddy follows Karath because they have been together since he was a newborn. Karath found him after he became separated from his pack.”

Karath held his hands apart to show a size roughly equal to a basketball.

Buddy had grown to the size of an ordinary wolf or a large dog, but he had truly been that small when Karath found him.

The chief still looked unconvinced.

What a closed-minded society.

They clearly struggled to accept anything unfamiliar.

“Ahem. If you raised him from infancy, then we can understand why he follows you. However, his appearance is what truly concerns us.”

“His appearance?”

“Yes. Giant Wolves normally possess dark grey fur. We have never seen one with fur so bright and silver, almost the same colour as the Grand Chief’s weapon.”

“Krahahaha! Is that all? Buddy has lived with Karath since he was young and has been washed every day. You have seen Karath bathe with soap, have you not?”

The Lionheart chief maintained a strange expression.

Then he raised one hand and pointed toward Buddy.

“Then what is that?”

Buddy had apparently grown bored while Karath spoke with the chief.

He dug a stone from the ground and began chewing it.

More precisely, he was crushing it with his teeth and claws.

“What is strange about that? He is sharpening his teeth and claws.”

Buddy had behaved that way whenever he found the opportunity since growing to the size of a large dog.

Karath assumed his teeth and claws became uncomfortable whenever they grew too long.

“No Giant Wolf cub we know possesses teeth and claws that powerful. Adult Giant Wolves can crush stones, but cubs cannot, Grand Chief.”

Karath blinked.

He had not known that.

After thinking about it, however, he found a reasonable explanation.

“Ahem. Buddy has eaten far better food than an ordinary Giant Wolf.”

The chief stared at him.

“Since infancy, he has shared the monsters Karath hunted. Compared with wild Giant Wolves, Buddy has always eaten extremely well.”

Karath disliked raw meat, so whenever he hunted a monster, he often gave Buddy the heart and other prized portions that orcs loved.

That must be why the young wolf had grown so strong and healthy.

His fur looked luxurious, and his teeth and claws were unusually sturdy.

Yes, that explanation made perfect sense.

“Do not concern yourself with it. Return to your duties.”

Why were they trying to undermine a perfectly healthy child’s confidence?

Was that not right, Buddy?

“Woof! Woof!”

Karath stroked the head of the young wolf, who continued reducing a stone to something resembling sand.

After playing with Buddy for a while, Karath led the warriors toward the ruins as usual.

The alliance’s construction group now accompanied them, since work on a new village near the ancestral site was about to begin in earnest.

Buddy travelled beside Karath as well.

The young wolf carried the neck of a small monster, a gnoll, between his jaws.

The corpse appeared approximately one and a half times larger than Buddy himself.

As usual, Buddy had slipped into the bushes while they travelled and returned after completing a hunt.

Everything about the scene was normal apart from the unusually large prey.

With teeth and claws that powerful, he could naturally kill a monster larger than himself.

All he needed to do was sink them into its neck.

The real problem was that Buddy dragged the larger creature as casually as though it were made from foam.

Karath had never paid much attention to such things before, but the Lionheart chief’s strange remarks made the sight feel suspicious.

“No. Surely not.”

Karath had discovered Buddy beside the corpse of an adult Giant Wolf.

Therefore, Buddy had to be a Giant Wolf.

While Karath reassured himself, the young wolf quickly finished his meal.

Perhaps Karath had turned him into a picky eater.

Buddy did not consume the entire gnoll. He ate only several nutritious portions, then abandoned the rest.

Apparently, his teeth still felt uncomfortable.

He picked up another stone from somewhere and began chewing.

Crunch. Crunch.

Someone watching from a distance might have mistaken it for a biscuit rather than a rock.

Why was he swallowing it this time?

Buddy had only crushed the stone back at the village.

“That is an unusual-looking rock. It almost resembles a toy building block.”

It was reddish orange and partially translucent.

Angular cubes clustered together in a strange formation.

It resembled a lump made from pieces of coarse salt.

Karath stopped.

Coarse salt?

He remembered seeing salt with that exact colour.

Himalayan salt.

It was the absurdly expensive pink salt occasionally displayed in department store food sections.

Himalayan salt was extracted from rock salt deposits.

Karath’s eyes widened until they nearly burst from their sockets.

“Buddy! Wh-where did you find that?”

He stammered as he urgently questioned the young wolf.

Buddy, who had been happily chewing the stone, tilted his head before walking away.

Karath hurried after him, unwilling to lose sight of his tail.

“Grand Chief?”

“Where are you going, Grand Chief?”

“It is dangerous to go alone!”

The nearby warriors rushed after Karath when he suddenly ran into the bushes.

He had no time to explain.

His entire field of vision contained only Buddy’s retreating back.

“Woof! Woof!”

After running for some time, Buddy stopped and looked back at Karath with a proud expression.

Karath stared wordlessly at the ground around him.

The same reddish stones Buddy had been chewing protruded from the soil in several places.

As though entranced, Karath approached one of them.

Crack.

He used his strength to break off a small fragment and placed it into his mouth.

His eyes widened.

Salty.

It was unmistakably salt.

“Krahahaha! Well done! You did wonderfully, Buddy!”

Overcome with emotion, Karath embraced the proud young wolf.

Who cared whether Buddy was a Giant Wolf or some unknown monster?

He had accomplished something extraordinary.

Karath showered Buddy’s cheeks with enthusiastic kisses filled with affection.

“The Grand Chief picked up a stone and ate it.”

“He ate a rock and started kissing the wolf.”

“C-could the resentment of the ancestors have driven him mad during the purification ritual?”

The warriors who had followed him whispered behind his back.

Karath heard none of it.

Every part of his attention belonged to Buddy and the rock salt.

The consequences appeared somewhere he had not expected.

“You absolutely cannot, Grand Chief!”

“Please reconsider, Grand Chieeeef!”

Dozens of warriors constructing the village near the ruins knelt upon the ground and shouted.

“Do not enter that place again!”

“It is far too dangerous!”

“The resentment of the ancestors may be important, but the Grand Chief is more precious to us!”

They had become convinced that Karath had lost his sanity because of the ancestral spirits.

This was why the dignity of the Grand Chief mattered.

He had relaxed for a single moment, and they immediately decided he was insane.

The excuse he invented so casually had returned to torment him.

Perhaps this was punishment for constantly exploiting the ancestors’ names.

“Grand Chief! If you insist upon entering, you must cut off Krog’s head first!”

Krog had even begun imitating the loyal retainers of dramatic films.

Karath sighed.

He could force his way inside, but that would only make the situation more troublesome.

“Karath will not enter today.”

For now, he abandoned the attempt.

More precisely, he decided to show them why he had eaten the stone and reacted with such joy.

“We will hunt instead.”

He would prove his sanity through food.

“Today’s targets are minotaurs and cockatrices!”

They needed beef and chicken.

Chapter 118

The Taste of Salt

Several hours later, a wide variety of monster meat covered the evening tables of the Lionheart settlement.

Karath and the warriors had charged through the forest hunting everything they could find.

“Eat without restraint! Krahahaha!”

The centrepiece of the feast was minotaur meat.

In other words, beef.

Unfortunately, they failed to find another cockatrice.

Karath had wanted one for several reasons, especially because the creatures possessed mana stones, but they appeared to be a rare species.

The orcs sitting before the abundant feast stared at the food with expressions that were strangely dull by orc standards.

Their attention remained fixed upon the stone powder placed beside the meat.

The salt.

Their faces clearly asked whether Karath was truly ordering them to eat rocks.

“This is an order from the Grand Chief. Taste it before judging.”

Trying to persuade them through explanation would probably make them consider him even more insane.

It would be easier to force them to try it.

Seeing once was better than hearing a hundred times, and doing something once was better than seeing it a hundred times.

Once they tasted the salt, they would understand.

Karath decided to demonstrate.

He sprinkled a small amount of rock salt over a piece of minotaur sirloin cooking above the flames.

Beef was best when cooked medium rare.

The moment the redness began fading from the surface, Karath picked up the meat and placed it into his mouth.

His eyes widened.

A festival erupted across his tongue.

The beef was tender and only lightly cooked, while the salt intensified every savoury flavour within it.

Beef truly needed nothing more than a little salt.

Was he exaggerating over monster meat seasoned with a few grains of salt?

Anyone who lived in this forest for sixteen years would understand.

The sense of taste adapted extremely well.

After years of eating terrible food, the body gradually began accepting that food as normal.

Anyone who had served in the military could probably understand.

Food from the base exchange could taste incredible compared with ordinary rations, yet after returning to civilian life, the same frozen meals and packaged pasta barely attracted attention.

In this hellish environment, grilled beef seasoned with salt tasted like food from heaven.

This was not even sea salt.

It was mineral-rich rock salt, so it had to be healthy as well.

Could it contain impurities?

That was fine.

Orc and goblin stomachs hardened by life in the wilderness could survive almost anything.

Perhaps Karath’s blissful expression persuaded them.

Several of the suspicious orcs cautiously reached for the salt.

“Oh!”

“Wh-what is this?”

The entire group suddenly reacted like characters from an overly dramatic cooking show.

“Krahahaha! What do you think? That is the taste of this stone, which Karath calls salt. When eaten with food, the result is extraordinary.”

“Grand Chief! Chomp. Chomp. It ish delicioush! Chomp.”

“Chew. Chew. Ash expected! Chew. Chew. The Grand Chief ish incredible!”

The warriors answered while alternately shoving salted meat into their mouths like starving ghosts.

A human from a modern society might have found the sight unpleasant.

Karath had lived here too long for that.

Perhaps he also pitied them for spending their entire lives without ever tasting anything so simple.

A warm smile remained upon his face.

Salt was useful for far more than seasoning food.

This was merely its most immediate purpose.

In the future, the alliance could use it in many different ways.

Their current knowledge and technology were simply too limited to exploit every possibility.

That was a concern for another day.

“Eat as much as you wish! Tonight, everyone feasts!”

For now, Karath intended to enjoy the steak before him.

Chapter 119

Forging a Stronger Body

After eating salt-seasoned meat for the first time in sixteen years, the alliance warriors began constructing the new village in earnest.

As always, the project began by clearing the forest and building a defensive wall.

This time, however, they possessed a considerable number of workers, so construction progressed at an almost absurd speed.

Those workers were the tribespeople of Lionheart.

Whenever the noise attracted monsters, the alliance warriors killed them. Protected by those warriors, the Lionheart orcs worked without interruption.

In only ten days, they completed a wall surrounding the ancestral ruins.

Once the fortifications were finished, the entire Lionheart Tribe relocated inside and began developing the enclosed land.

They constructed earthen houses for the alliance members who would live there.

They also built facilities for storing and processing limestone and rock salt.

Several more busy days passed.

“Grand Chief! The Great Mother’s shipment has arrived!”

The items Karath had eagerly awaited were finally here.

“Bring everything inside!”

Karath called to the warriors waiting outside the residence Orga had constructed for him immediately after completing the wall.

They entered and began placing heavy iron objects upon the floor.

There was a thick iron bar roughly twice the width of Karath’s shoulders.

Several massive iron discs had holes through their centres.

Other objects were slightly longer than his hand, with heavy blocks attached to both ends.

They were the items Karath had asked Delina to forge.

Exercise equipment.

Now he could truly begin building muscle.

The weapon of the Grand Chief was excessively large and heavy compared with Karath’s body.

His build was merely average for an orc, so the axe did not suit him particularly well.

Kaden or Parker might have handled it more naturally.

Still, carrying the weapon around only as proof of his authority, like a ceremonial sword used during religious rites, would have been ridiculous.

It was far too valuable for that.

Its blade was incomparably sharper than the iron axes used by the alliance warriors, and its durability belonged to an entirely different level.

The mana flowing through the mysterious weapon was even more impressive.

It made Karath regret ever considering his drake-bone axe an overpowered premium item.

If his bone axe was a magical weapon, Muhe Lionheart’s axe was at least rare, perhaps even unique.

At that point, adjusting his body to suit the weapon was only proper respect.

Karath intended to continue training until he possessed strength comparable to Kaden or Parker.

“I will begin with two plates on each side.”

An orc body possessed far more strength than a human one.

Karath had considered that when placing his custom order and instructed Delina to make the bar and plates much thicker than those he remembered from modern gyms.

He slid the plates onto the enormous bar.

“Hup.”

Karath performed fifteen squats.

“I should add more weight.”

The bar and plates probably weighed around one hundred and fifty kilograms, but the exercise felt little more demanding than a warm-up.

He added another plate to each side and completed fifteen more repetitions.

Then he added more and repeated the set.

Once the total weight passed approximately two hundred and fifty kilograms, he finally began feeling as though he was exercising.

“Since Karath began with squats, today will focus upon the lower body.”

Using the equipment Delina had personally forged, he recalled exercises learned through personal trainers and online fitness videos during his former life.

Someone might question why a muscular monster capable of squatting two hundred and fifty kilograms still struggled to swing the axe.

Squats lifted a weight through the strength of the entire body.

The Grand Chief’s axe appeared to weigh close to fifty kilograms.

To wield it freely, Karath needed enough strength to swing a fifty-kilogram object repeatedly with both hands, or perhaps even one.

He also needed the full-body strength to move without restriction while holding that weight.

A battlefield offered no warning about what would happen next.

A warrior needed to respond instantly to every sudden danger while carrying his weapon.

In other words, Karath needed enough strength to handle the fifty-kilogram axe as casually as a child carrying spun sugar.

“Stretching cannot be neglected either.”

Raw power would not be enough if his body became stiff and inflexible.

“Hnnngh!”

Karath began with stretching, punished his body through weight training, then stretched again to preserve his flexibility.

“Now for axe practice.”

He descended the staircase leading beneath his residence.

Following Karath’s instructions, the Grand Chief’s house had been built directly above the ancestral underground chamber.

Once below, he began swinging his axe according to the movements and instructions depicted upon the murals.

For now, he practised with his bone axe.

Once his strength increased, he would replace it with the Grand Chief’s weapon.

Little by little, he continued preparing himself to wield Muhe Lionheart’s axe.

The following day, Karath was lifting weights inside his house once again.

Until the basic structure of the village was complete, he had little else requiring his personal attention.

“Grand Chief!”

Berners entered while Karath was in the middle of another set.

It was time for their usual meeting, during which the hobgoblin delivered communications from the other settlements.

“Three orcsh and one goblin were born in Root today.”

“Hm. Then Root’s population has reached seven hundred and sixteen?”

“That ish correct, Grand Chief.”

“What about the freezers? The rainy season will arrive soon, so they must be filled beforehand.”

“The meat freezer ish almost full. The fish and fruit freezersh are both around half full.”

“Good. What about Blacksmith Village?”

“The current situation there ish...”

Berners continued reporting the conditions in each settlement while Karath issued the necessary instructions.

“That concludes today’sh report.”

“You have done well, Berners.”

The report had ended, yet Berners continued staring at him.

“What is it?”

“Grand Chief, what have you been doing thish entire time?”

“This? It is called weight training. It makes the muscles much stronger.”

Karath had continued exercising throughout the report.

His responsibilities as Grand Chief had become so numerous that he was now accustomed to handling several tasks simultaneously.

This kind of training also benefited his magic and mana cultivation.

“It makesh musclesh stronger?”

“That is correct.”

Boom.

Karath lowered the iron bar he had been lifting.

Then he flexed.

He imitated several poses used by bodybuilders in his former world.

Was this one called the side chest?

Karath had only begun weight training the previous day, so there could not have been any visible improvement yet.

However, an orc’s body was naturally muscular.

The muscles shifting across his frame already surpassed anything Arnold had possessed during his human life.

“If goblinsh follow that training, can we also gain musclesh like yours?”

“With enough consistency, you should become stronger.”

Humans had developed muscle through training.

There was no reason goblins could not do the same.

“C-could Bernersh try it now?”

“Oh? Are you interested in building muscle?”

“Yesh!”

“Krahahaha! Good. Train with Karath. Use something lighter and follow his movements.”

Weight training could become dull when performed alone.

Berners might be physically weak, but Karath had at least found an exercise partner.

“Begin by lifting this.”

“G-grah! T-too heavy!”

A problem appeared immediately.

Delina had created every piece of equipment for orcs.

Even the lightest item was overwhelming for a goblin.

Berners struggled merely to lift the empty bar.

Karath almost felt pity for him.

Admittedly, even the empty bar was far heavier than those from a human gym.

“Hm. Berners, you should begin with exercises using only your own body weight.”

Karath taught him the rehabilitation exercises he had used after becoming thin and weak from the battle against the drake.

Thirty minutes later, Berners panted as though death was approaching.

“Huff. Huff.”

“That is enough for today.”

“Bernersh can continue, Grand Chief!”

For some reason, the determination within his eyes remained strong.

“Doing too much in a single day will not improve the results. Excessive training will only damage your body. That is why Karath said you must continue consistently.”

“I-is that so?”

“Once your muscles begin trembling and aching, doing more becomes harmful. Rest properly today and eat plenty of meat. Since you trained your upper body today, let it recover tomorrow and train your lower body instead.”

“H-how doesh lower-body training work?”

“Return with tomorrow’s report, and Karath will teach you. Leave for now. Do not attempt any more exercises today. Rest thoroughly.”

“Understood!”

Berners answered energetically and left the house with both arms trembling as though connected to electrical stimulators.

Chapter 120

The Rise of the Goblin Gym

“Heh heh. Heh heh heh.”

Berners walked away from his meeting and training session with Karath.

His arms continued trembling, yet a wide smile covered his face.

That reaction was only natural.

As the leader Karath appointed over the goblins, Berners had discovered information that might become hope for his entire race.

Weight training.

The goblins had finally found a way to obtain powerful muscles like the orcs.

Of course, Karath had only meant that training would make them stronger than they currently were.

He had never claimed goblins could reach an orc’s physical strength.

Berners had interpreted the words differently.

For the goblins, the distinction mattered greatly.

Karath had fulfilled his promise and treated them as equals to the orcs.

He had even appointed Berners as the honourable chief of communications and summoned him whenever important matters arose.

From a modern perspective, Karath worked him hard enough to violate countless labour regulations.

Berners considered every assignment an honour.

However, one serious problem remained.

Only hobgoblins were truly useful to the Grand Chief.

That was how Berners viewed the current structure of the alliance.

Ordinary goblins contributed in several ways, but their value seemed limited compared with that of the orcs.

Karath valued ability above all else.

Those who possessed useful talents received many responsibilities.

Those without them remained safely protected within Root.

If nothing changed, ordinary goblins might eventually fall far behind the orcs within the alliance.

As the leader of all goblins, Berners could not permit that future.

“Clio! Gather every goblin in thish village immediately!”

“Understood, Bernersh!”

Despite his trembling arms, Berners summoned every goblin warrior.

“Is everyone here?”

In front of Karath, Berners often appeared nervous and clumsy because of his shortened tongue.

Before the goblins, he was a king.

“Yesh, Bernersh!”

The goblins answered as loudly as their smaller bodies allowed.

“Do you all remember the day we hunted the cockatricesh?”

“Yesh!”

“On that day, we offered no help! For honourable goblinsh, it wash a day of humiliation! Ish that not true?”

“That ish true!”

Remembering the disgrace, the goblins trembled and answered forcefully.

Their darts and arrows had failed to penetrate the cockatrices’ feathers and skin.

Even a shallow wound would have allowed the poison to take effect.

Instead, their attacks failed to leave so much as a scratch.

“The Grand Chief worried about our weaknessh and taught me a way for ush to grow stronger!”

“The Grand Chief did?”

“What ish the method, Bernersh?”

“We must destroy our upper bodiesh!”

“What doesh destroy mean?”

“Bernersh will teach you! Exactly ash the Grand Chief taught him! Will you follow?”

“We will follow, Bernersh!”

Satisfied by their enthusiastic response, Berners smiled.

“Fifteen repetitionsh! Begin!”

“BEGIN!”

He began destroying the goblins’ upper bodies exactly as Karath had taught him.

“Graaagh!”

“Th-thish ish too difficult!”

After barely ten minutes, every goblin complained of muscle pain.

“How can thish little effort be difficult?”

Berners roared at them.

“The orcsh continue growing stronger while goblinsh remain unchanged! Do you wish to live while doing nothing except allowing the orcsh to protect you?”

“No!”

“No!”

“Would that really be sho bad...?”

One goblin muttered something foolish.

“Step on that bastard!”

“Step on him!”

Clio, the quick-witted second-in-command, acted before Berners could become angry.

The interruption passed without further trouble.

“If we destroy our upper and lower bodiesh on alternating daysh, we will eventually become ash strong ash orcsh! Then our arrowsh will pierce the hide of monstersh like cockatricesh!”

The goblins stared at him in awe.

Accuracy with a bow depended upon dexterity and instinct.

The power of an arrow depended heavily upon strength, as well as the bow’s durability and flexibility.

Goblins possessed far less strength than orcs.

That weakness was why they relied upon poison.

They already possessed enough precision to hit their targets.

As long as they created even a tiny wound, poison could inflict the real damage.

Against cockatrices and stronger creatures, however, even that method failed.

Their attacks could not break the skin at all.

Now the situation could change.

“With our own handsh, we will kill cockatricesh and ogresh! Do you still wish to surrender?”

“No!”

“We can continue!”

Encouraged by Berners’ words, the goblins answered loudly and resumed punishing their upper bodies.

“Fifteen repetitionsh! Begin!”

“BEGIN!”

Thus began the rise of a group of goblins obsessed with building muscle.

The following day, Berners once again asked Karath to teach him weight training after delivering his report.

“Huff. Huff.”

“That is enough for today, Berners.”

“Th-thanksh!”

Karath had expected him to abandon the effort after suffering through the first day.

Instead, the fire in Berners’ eyes continued burning.

“Do you intend to continue weight training?”

“Yesh! Bernersh wishesh to build more muscle!”

“Krahahaha! Excellent. Then Karath will give you a gift!”

“A g-gift?”

“That is correct. Contact Markup in Blacksmith Village. Karath needs to speak with Mother.”

Through Berners, Karath communicated with Delina.

More precisely, he placed another custom order for exercise equipment.

This time, he requested equipment sized and weighted for goblins.

“Huff. Thanksh, Grand Chief!”

Berners looked overwhelmed as he transmitted the order through the hobgoblin network.

“Grand Chief, may Bernersh request one thing?”

The hobgoblin spoke cautiously despite his emotional expression.

“Speak.”

“C-could you order more equipment? Other goblinsh besides Bernersh have begun weight training.”

Karath stared at him.

“The other goblins are training?”

“Yesh. Bernersh taught them, and everyone findsh it very enjoyable.”

Karath considered that answer.

Did goblins possess some hidden passion for building muscle?

He had never imagined such a thing.

“Very well. Tell Mother to create three complete sets of everything Karath requested.”

The equipment would be far smaller than the pieces Karath used.

Even three complete sets would consume relatively little iron.

Several days after Delina received the additional order, agonised cries began echoing throughout the village near the ruins.

“GRAAAAGH!”

“KRAAAH!”

Karath listened with a satisfied smile.

“Heh heh. Everyone is working hard.”

He began considering how to help them punish their muscles even more effectively.