Chapter 207

Growth

When Karath first realised that the orcs’ shamanic arts were actually a form of magic, one thing had continued to bother him.

The rituals passed down through the Bloodclaw Tribe.

More specifically, the ritual supposedly used to read a child’s future.

The magic used when tattoos were applied during the coming-of-age ceremony was a form of biological magic.

Karath had adapted it and named the spell Healing.

The magic used during the harvest festival belonged to a category he had also become quite familiar with.

It manipulated the surrounding climate.

More precisely, it heated the air slightly and raised the local temperature.

Perhaps ancient orc shamans had developed it so their people could endure warmer winters.

Karath had eventually identified the nature of those two rituals.

The one thing he had never been able to understand was the ritual that supposedly foretold the future.

To his surprise, the mana patterns used in that ritual were remarkably similar to those found in the magic of the Sigmund School.

It had never truly been a spell for seeing the future.

It was a form of mental magic.

That makes much more sense.

Reading the future with such a tiny amount of mana had always seemed absurd.

The scale of a magical phenomenon depended upon both the amount of mana required and the complexity of the calculations behind it.

How could shamans who did not even know how to gather mana properly and instead burned their own life force possibly look into the future?

The Sigmund School’s records finally gave Karath the answer.

It was never the future.

They were reading dreams.

The spell bypassed the mental defences of an intelligent being and reached into the deeper layers of the mind.

There, it read the target’s hidden thoughts or strongest desires.

Since the spell merely observed rather than harmed or controlled the target, its mana consumption remained relatively low.

And now Karath was using that same mental magic, once passed down among orc shamans, on Leo.

Ordinary shamans would have found it dangerous to use the ritual on a fourteen-year-old.

There was a reason the orc tradition had limited it to children around nine years old.

The older someone became, the more knowledge and memories accumulated within the mind.

That made reaching the deepest layers of the subconscious increasingly difficult.

Naturally, the amount of mana required rose dramatically as well.

I owe Aunt Garlik an apology.

Karath finally understood why the previous shaman, Aunt Garlik, had nearly died after trying to read his future.

Unlike an ordinary nine-year-old child, Karath had possessed the memories of an entire previous life.

It was fortunate that the ritual only searched for his deepest desire.

Had it probed even slightly farther, it might have exposed the fact that Karath carried memories from Earth.

After spending the past half year studying the Sigmund School’s magic, Karath had finally uncovered the truth behind the old ritual.

That revelation also explained several things.

Why did shamans almost always predict that young boys would become great warriors?

Why did they tell girls that they would become mothers of great warriors?

Because that was what most orc children had been taught to desire.

It also explained Karath’s own prophecy.

The shaman had correctly seen that he wished to become a Grand Chief.

Yet she had never predicted that he would unite multiple races beneath one alliance.

At nine years old, Karath had already intended to become a chief and use his knowledge from Earth to make the Bloodclaw Tribe prosper.

But even he had never imagined becoming Grand Chief of an alliance containing so many different peoples.

There was another reason Karath was using the ritual on Leo now.

Hmm. He is not completely untalented.

The spell possessed an unexpected property.

Separate from the target’s knowledge or mental complexity, the difficulty of casting it changed according to the target’s affinity with mana.

The greater the affinity, the stronger the resistance.

That meant Karath could use the ritual to roughly estimate someone’s talent for mana.

Other Sigmund School spells behaved similarly.

The problem was that Karath could hardly brainwash people or engrave magical imprints into their minds merely to test their mana affinity.

This spell was comparatively harmless, which made it useful for that purpose.

If Karath were already a master of mental magic, he could probably create a spell designed specifically to measure affinity.

Unfortunately, he was still studying the field himself.

Modifying such spells carelessly was beyond him.

“Mmm.”

Karath withdrew his hand from Leo’s forehead.

“From what I can tell, you should be capable of sensing mana eventually.”

Leo’s eyes widened.

“R-really?”

Karath laughed.

“Have you ever seen me lie to you?”

“No!”

Leo shook his head furiously.

Then his expression brightened as the meaning of Karath’s words finally sank in.

Karath had not said that Leo possessed extraordinary talent.

But the boy had enough affinity that, with sustained effort, he had a genuine chance of awakening.

There was no need to bury a child beneath cold logic and unnecessary qualifications.

A little hope would do him more good.

“Heheh. I’ll train hard and become a great warrior!”

Now that the Grand Chief had personally confirmed his potential, Leo abandoned his attempt at sounding mature and returned completely to his ordinary childish voice.

“Yes. Keep working hard.”

Karath smiled.

The expression came naturally.

Especially because the spell had allowed him to glimpse Leo’s deepest dream.

He really wants to become a Grand Chief like me.

Leo did not merely say that he admired Karath.

The desire existed at the deepest level of his heart.

“If you succeed in sensing mana, I’ll make you a weapon suited specifically for you. I’ll even use special materials.”

“Th-thank you!”

Leo looked ready to burst into tears.

Hmm. If I use this properly, we could even create something like a Christmas tradition.

The old ritual had essentially been an event where a shaman read a child’s dream and then declared that dream to be their future.

What if the alliance developed the idea further?

They could secretly discover what children wished for, then prepare gifts suited to those dreams.

Like adults on Earth preserving the mystery of Santa Claus while giving children presents.

“Yes. Keep training. Ah, Leo, that actually is not why I called you here.”

Karath put the idea aside and finally turned to his original purpose.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Do you remember when we made books together?”

“Of course!”

“I’m thinking of making another one. And like before, I’d like to include your illustrations.”

“A book? Like the writing we made before?”

“No. This time it will be a children’s storybook.”

“A children’s... storybook?”

Leo tilted his head.

Karath grinned and handed him a book he had prepared in advance.

“I wrote this one. Read it.”

“Okay.”

Leo had already learned the writing system Karath introduced.

The text used the language of this world, simply written in that script, so Leo had no difficulty reading it.

There was a simple reason Karath wanted to create children’s books.

Learning to read using nothing but basic writin was boring.

And merely recognising letters did not mean someone could properly understand or express language.

Books exposed readers to different expressions.

Growing accustomed to reading would also give children a foundation for later study.

Karath intended to begin with basic literacy materials and children’s stories.

Later, he could produce books about martial arts, magic, blacksmithing, construction, and other specialised subjects.

The storybooks were merely the next step.

There was one problem.

Many common stories from Earth did not fit the cultures of the alliance at all.

Take Cinderella.

A girl lost her parents and suffered beneath a cruel stepmother and stepsisters.

That premise made little sense to orcs, goblins, or the Silver Wolf Tribe.

They had lived in tribal communities.

An orphan being abused simply because their parents had died was difficult for them to relate to.

The same problem applied to countless stories based upon moral lessons and social expectations that did not exist here.

After considerable thought, Karath found another solution.

“G-Grand Chief! There really was an orc general this incredible?”

“Of course there was.”

“Wow! ‘Those who seek death shall live, while those who seek life shall die.’ That’s incredible!”

Karath had taken the lives of famous figures from Earth, especially renowned military commanders, and adapted their stories for the alliance.

“Krahahaha! He was a magnificent general!”

“They had ships even that long ago? He defeated more than a hundred ships with only twelve? He must have been an incredible warrior!”

Leo continued reading with growing excitement.

Karath watched him with satisfaction.

Not every figure in the book had actually come from Earth’s history.

Karath was not a professional writer.

Adapting every historical life and battle into a world of orcs and goblins was difficult.

So while the earlier portions of the book drew from famous people of Earth, the later stories became somewhat different.

“Y-you can really travel ten thousand years into the past?”

“Yes. That warrior went ten thousand years into the past and saved the world.”

Karath nodded solemnly to preserve the child’s sense of wonder.

“He crossed through the dimensional gate alone, stopped an army of demons, and even wounded the Demon King... Why doesn’t anyone know about someone this great?”

“Because he was the only one who crossed the gate. His companions had to remain behind to close it and fight the demons on their side.”

“Oh... Then nobody saw his battle?”

“That’s right.”

“That’s so sad. He fought all those demons alone and wounded the Demon King to save the world, but nobody ever knew.”

“I only learned the truth after becoming Grand Chief and communing with the spirits of the ancestors. But there is no need to be sad.”

Karath pointed toward the book.

“From now on, this story will be known.”

Leo’s expression became determined.

“I’ll draw the best pictures I can! I’ll make illustrations worthy of the story so everyone who sees them will be moved!”

“Hahaha. I’m counting on you, Leo.”

Apparently Leo had been deeply moved by the story of the legendary orc hero Broxigar Saurfang.

That was understandable.

It was the story of one of the greatest orc heroes imaginable.

There was only one minor problem.

He was not an orc from this world.

Chapter 208

Growth

Several days later, Leo had produced a large collection of illustrations inspired by the storybook Karath had given him.

When Karath examined the finished drawings, he experienced a strange mixture of delight and guilt.

Several famous generals from Earth had been transformed into heroic orcs.

It was difficult not to feel slightly uncomfortable.

They were great people. Surely they would forgive this much.

As Grand Chief, Karath decided to suppress the guilt for the sake of the alliance.

He took Leo’s completed illustrations and visited the paper mill, which also functioned as the alliance’s magic academy.

The shamans there stared at the pages.

Then at Karath.

Then back at the pages.

“Y-you want us to make metal plates for all of these?”

Carving simple letters into metal was already exhausting.

Even reproducing basic images such as trees or stones required tremendous effort.

Leo’s new illustrations were nothing like the simple pictures used in the early literacy

They were detailed works of art.

And Karath wanted the shamans to reproduce them precisely on metal printing plates.

It was an absurd assignment.

“With enough effort, I am certain you can do it.”

Karath knew something very important.

If you worked engineers hard enough, eventually they produced results.

He knew that because Arnold had once been one himself.

From that day onward, the cries of suffering never stopped inside the paper mill.

“GAAAAH! I-I’m out of mana!”

One shaman screamed after Wind Cutter drained every last bit of his mana while he used it like an engraving knife.

“P-please switch with me.”

“I-I only started resting a moment ago.”

Others sat with dark circles beneath their eyes, speaking like walking corpses.

Karath showed no mercy.

Not when it came to work.

“Mmm. The engraving around the face on this plate is uneven. Make it again.”

Karath was a perfectionist where production was concerned.

A plate of insufficient quality would never receive his approval.

After having their work rejected several times, the shamans inevitably became more careful.

Slowly, amid endless groans of despair, the metal printing plates for the illustrated storybook began taking shape.

While the shamans were being worked to exhaustion, the original artist responsible for much of their suffering remained completely unaware.

“Heheh.”

Leo sat happily reading the storybook again.

Karath had allowed him to keep the original manuscript.

Even after providing his illustrations, Leo had redrawn them and copied the text by hand to produce several handwritten versions.

He gave some to Neria and other friends his age.

One remained with him.

He read it almost every day.

“If the Demon King ever attacks, the Grand Chief would protect us like this too, right?”

Leo murmured while rereading his favourite story about Broxigar Saurfang.

Had Karath heard him, he probably would have reacted in horror and ordered the boy never to say anything so ominous again.

In a world like this, Karath would consider the existence of an actual Demon King entirely plausible.

Naturally, he would fight to protect the alliance if necessary.

But he would much rather avoid a situation where a Demon King invaded in the first place.

“Heheh.”

Leo, unaware of Karath’s preferences, happily imagined the Grand Chief locked in an epic battle with a Demon King.

“Heh heh. What has you smiling so much, Leo?”

A familiar elderly voice interrupted his daydream.

“Grandfather Jark!”

It was Jark.

He had already lived far beyond the average lifespan of an orc and now needed a wooden staff to walk.

Yet the eyes with which he regarded Leo remained remarkably lively.

“Oh? I’ve seen other children carrying similar things lately. What is that?”

“It’s a storybook the Grand Chief made! Would you like to read it?”

Leo eagerly handed him the book.

Jark supported practically everything Karath did.

Naturally, he had already learned the writing system Karath introduced.

“Heh heh. The Grand Chief made it? Then I must read it.”

Jark accepted the book with delight.

He slowly read each line, savouring every word.

Before long, tears began rolling down his cheeks.

“Heh heh heh...”

“To think our ancestors achieved such magnificent deeds, and we never knew...”

Orcs revered the spirits of their ancestors, especially those of great warriors.

To have forgotten such glorious achievements felt shameful.

Almost disloyal.

Yet another emotion accompanied that shame.

Gratitude.

The Grand Chief was connected to the spirits of the ancestors.

Because Karath existed, these forgotten deeds had finally returned to the world.

The two emotions mixed together until tears streamed freely from Jark’s eyes.

“Grandfather! Which story moved you the most?”

“Heh heh. The final story about Lord Broxigar Saurfang.”

“Me too!”

Leo beamed.

“Do you think the Grand Chief would fight bravely like him if a Demon King attacked?”

“Of course! What sort of orc do you think the Grand Chief is? Why, three years ago, when that drake attacked...”

Like elderly people everywhere, Jark immediately began recounting old memories.

One after another, he listed Karath’s achievements.

Leo had heard every one of those stories dozens of times.

He practically knew them by heart.

Yet because they were stories about Karath, whom he admired more than anyone, he never became bored.

Jark continued enthusiastically.

Then, as if struck by divine revelation, an idea entered his mind.

“Leo!”

“Yes?”

“Instead of sitting here, why don’t you make a book yourself?”

“A book?”

“A book about the Grand Chief!”

Jark’s eyes gleamed.

“This old man will tell you the stories. You can draw pictures for them just like the illustrations in this book!”

“Ah!”

Leo looked as though lightning had struck him.

Images immediately began exploding through his mind.

Dozens of illustrations.

All of them featuring Karath.

“Heh heh. We shall tell every member of the alliance about the Grand Chief’s greatness.”

Jark raised his voice with growing excitement.

“No. Not merely those alive today. Everyone who joins the alliance in the future, and every child yet to be born, must know!”

“Yes!”

And so, without Karath knowing anything about it, the alliance’s first biography of a great figure began taking shape.

Several years later, that book would become something resembling the alliance’s sacred scripture.

No one paid much attention to how many shamans were worked half to death producing it.

Chapter 209

Growth

Council meetings.

Research into mana cultivation methods.

Training warriors.

Developing communication magic through the study of Sigmund School techniques.

Producing children’s books.

Expansion had stopped for winter, yet Karath’s schedule remained absurdly full.

Still, his efforts were beginning to bear fruit.

Some projects were finally reaching stable stages.

The storybook, for example, no longer required much of Karath’s personal time.

The engineers...

No.

The shamans were the ones being ground into dust.

Karath merely handled final approval.

Thanks to their noble sacrifice, roughly a month later every metal plate required for the illustrated storybook had been completed.

After that, production was relatively straightforward.

They simply needed to press the plates onto the paper already produced by the mill.

Naturally, the shamans had to do that work too.

Yet after the nightmare of engraving Leo’s detailed illustrations into metal, the printing itself seemed almost merciful.

“Ah! So this is what paradise feels like!”

They actually smiled while continuing the repetitive labour.

The sight reminded Karath of his years working as an engineer on Earth.

During particularly brutal periods, he had sometimes worked through the night day after day.

After sleeping at the office for several nights in a row, leaving work at eleven in the evening could feel almost luxurious.

Ah. Memories.

The kind of memories he never wanted to experience again.

Much like military service.

Regardless, the shamans’ sacrifice allowed the storybooks to spread throughout the alliance without major problems.

And the books became wildly popular among the orcs.

“Guhhh...”

“This is so moving, Grand Chief!”

Perhaps it was because they lived in a fantasy world.

Perhaps it was because most orcs had little education.

Whatever the reason, they accepted every story in the book as historical fact.

Karath had written it for children.

The adults loved it even more.

Production had only just begun, so there were nowhere near enough copies.

Groups of people passed individual books between them.

As a result, the shamans at the paper mill were being constantly pressured by impatient alliance members demanding more copies.

Once upon a time, shamans had been among the most respected people in any village after the chief.

Karath had no idea how their lives had deteriorated this badly.

Naturally, the books did not produce only positive effects.

“As expected, ush goblinsh really are hopelesh...”

“Why don’t goblinsh have great heroesh like these...?”

Since the stories mostly featured heroic orcs, a gloomy atmosphere began spreading among the goblins.

Karath might have found it easier if they had become angry and demanded equal representation.

Instead, the naturally self-deprecating goblins simply became even more miserable.

Watching them criticise themselves was painful.

“Do not worry. The ancestors have also told me stories of great goblin heroes.”

Karath finally surrendered.

“I will prepare a book about them soon.”

The shamans at the paper mill would suffer again.

It could not be helped.

The Silver Wolf Tribe reacted very differently.

“The hero spoken of by our ancestors already walks beside us. Why should stories about ancient heroes matter so much?”

Their response was almost monastic.

They showed little interest in receiving stories about their own ancestors.

“We do not require a book about the heroes of our tribe.”

Hargan smiled.

“If you would instead create a story about Buddy, the hero of the present age, we would be deeply grateful. Heh heh.”

They did not want a children’s story.

They wanted a biography of Buddy.

A heroic wolf biography.

As expected of fanatics.

In any case, the problems surrounding the storybooks were gradually being sorted out.

The same was true of the mana cultivation project and warrior training.

Research had begun in spring.

By now, they had established reasonably systematic cultivation methods for different physiques and constitutions.

In truth, Karath had reached an important conclusion.

If the goal was merely to become an Aura User rather than an Aura Expert, almost any sufficiently well-designed physical conditioning routine could work.

His studies of Sigmund School magic had revealed that the ability to sense mana depended heavily upon natural talent.

At minimum, someone needed some degree of mana affinity.

Mana cultivation did not create that talent.

It merely provided an opportunity for dormant talent to awaken.

Without such an opportunity, many people with potential might never sense mana in their entire lives.

But once the method was good enough to provide that trigger, the difference between one basic cultivation technique and another became relatively small.

Methods capable of helping someone reach Aura Expert or Aura Master were probably a different matter.

Unfortunately, nobody in the alliance knew techniques of that level.

Still, the alliance now possessed a reliable system for helping people with sufficient talent awaken as Aura Users.

As a result, their numbers continued increasing.

Even ordinary goblins, not merely hobgoblins, occasionally awakened aura.

The number of orc Aura Users also rose steadily.

There will still be a limit.

Karath had learned that while experimenting with the same affinity-reading spell he had used on Leo.

Mana affinity simply was not common.

Excluding hobgoblins, who were unusual specimens among goblins, only around one person in a hundred seemed naturally capable of sensing mana or awakening with very little effort.

Another group, roughly one in five, possessed just enough affinity that sustained training might eventually allow them to succeed.

In other words, close to eighty percent of the population had almost no realistic chance of ever sensing mana.

Even so, twenty percent was an extraordinarily high ceiling.

Karath had no reason to complain.

Maybe I should create a mana-affinity testing device.

The idea had occurred to him immediately after discovering this property of mental magic.

But as Grand Chief, Karath hesitated.

Was such a thing truly desirable?

Telling someone that they possessed no talent was effectively the same as telling them to abandon an entire path in life.

One could call it cruel arrogance, destroying someone’s dream based solely upon aptitude.

Or one could argue that it spared them years of suffering while clinging to false hope.

Life rarely offered obvious answers.

This was one of those problems.

For now, Karath decided not to pursue it.

Ordinary warriors remained vital to the alliance even if they could never become Aura Users.

There was no need to force people’s futures into predetermined paths merely because Karath could measure their talent.

One thing, however, had become increasingly certain.

Those black mages really were complete idiots.

Karath had thought the same thing while developing communication magic.

The ability to estimate mana affinity would also have attracted enormous attention in human lands.

Yet the Sigmund School had discovered all these possibilities and apparently thought of nothing except brainwashing.

If Sigmund, the founder of the school, could see what his successors had done with his work, he might have wept in the afterlife.

Regardless, the growing number of Aura Users created another benefit.

Karath no longer needed to participate personally in every training session.

Warriors who had already awakened mana could now lead others themselves.

As expected. Training people was the right choice, even if it made the beginning harder.

Had Karath never taught the shamans magic and mana cultivation, neither the literacy nor the storybooks could have been produced so efficiently.

The same applied to warrior training.

Because Karath had invested time in creating Aura Users, those warriors could now train others without him.

No matter how talented or powerful Karath became, the alliance could never truly develop through his strength alone.

Everyone had to grow.

That belief was finally beginning to prove itself.

Chapter 210

Growth

As it did every year, winter passed quickly amid Karath’s relentless schedule.

The white nuisance covering the ground gradually melted.

The bitter air softened.

Spring began returning to the Grimwood Mountains.

“It’s time to become active again.”

“Krahahaha! I’ve been waiting for this, Grand Chief!”

“The warriors improved considerably during winter training. We should be able to expand much faster this time.”

The moment Karath mentioned a new expedition, his advisers reacted with obvious enthusiasm.

This expedition, however, would be different from the previous ones.

“Yes. Expansion will resume.”

Karath looked around the council chamber.

“But this time, we will divide into two forces.”

Krog frowned slightly.

“Two forces?”

“Exactly. One will advance east. The other will advance west.”

“If we split like that, one force will not have you with them, Grand Chief.”

“That is correct.”

Karath answered calmly.

“But you no longer need me present for every expedition. You are strong enough to operate independently now. If we want to increase the speed of expansion, dividing our forces is the better choice.”

“Krahahaha! Monsters don’t frighten us anymore, Grand Chief!”

Kaden thumped his chest confidently.

Chief Parker laughed beside him.

The other advisers also seemed convinced.

Only Krog remained thoughtful.

“There is one problem, Grand Chief.”

“What is it?”

“We can clear roads and fight monsters ourselves. But persuading other orc tribes to join the alliance has always required you.”

“Take Kairin with you.”

Krog looked surprised.

“Her magic and your strength should be enough to convince most tribes. If you encounter one that absolutely refuses, contact me through the hobgoblins.”

Karath smiled.

“I can fly there on a wyvern.”

Kairin had already mastered Third Circle magic.

She could reproduce at least part of the spectacle Karath had once used to impress independent orc tribes.

Fraud...

No.

Showmanship.

It should be enough.

Even after hearing the explanation, Krog still had another question.

“How will you divide the troops? And who will command the force you do not accompany?”

The other advisers immediately became attentive.

Who would be entrusted with one half of the alliance’s expansion army in the Grand Chief’s absence?

Several expressions carried unmistakable expectation.

Perhaps each was wondering whether Karath would choose him.

“The elite warriors who have always accompanied me on expeditions will remain together.”

Karath paused.

“But they will operate separately from me.”

The advisers exchanged looks.

“I will take Buddy, Berners, and the Silver Wolf warriors. Aside from them, I intend to select an entirely new group of warriors.”

The veterans who had accompanied Karath through previous expeditions were the strongest warriors in the alliance.

They had spent years fighting at the very front.

Naturally, their group also contained the highest proportion of Aura Users.

But that created a problem.

Other warriors were developing much more slowly because the same elites always received the most dangerous experience.

Karath wanted to change that.

This time, he would lead inexperienced warriors into the field and train them through real expeditions.

“I will take the newly formed unit east.”

Karath looked around the room.

“Everyone except Buddy, Berners, and the Silver Wolf warriors will accompany the veteran force west.”

Then came the most important question.

“And overall command of the western expedition will go to...”

Every eye fixed upon Karath.

“Krog.”

Krog straightened.

“I’m entrusting it to you.”

The reaction around the room was immediate.

Kaden and several others looked disappointed.

Some wore expressions suggesting they had expected the decision.

Krog remained silent for a moment.

The position was effectively that of acting Grand Chief over an entire expeditionary army.

Then his expression hardened with confidence.

“I will do my best.”