Chapter 41-50 A Forest Without a Map (Patreon)

Chapter 41

A Forest Without a Map

Half a day had passed since Karath departed on his first official hunt with the settlement’s warriors.

He had killed a troll during his coming-of-age ceremony, but that victory had relied primarily upon his combat ability.

The adults had hunted for years before Karath was allowed beyond the settlement, so he assumed they would have much to teach him.

He quietly followed his uncles and older companions, observing how they hunted without offering any criticism.

At last, he reached a conclusion.

“Hahaha. This is a complete disaster.”

Were these fools joking?

What had happened to all the training they had done together during childhood?

Had there only been a few small problems, Karath might have become angry and corrected them one at a time.

Instead, the situation was so hopeless that he could only laugh.

It reminded him of inheriting a program written by someone who had patched every new problem with a temporary solution until the code became a grotesque, twisted abomination.

He did not even know where to begin.

Touching the wrong section might cause everything to collapse into an even greater disaster.

“Do you agree, Buddy?”

Karath gave a hollow laugh and looked toward the wolf pup following beside him.

Buddy wagged his tail as though encouraging him, then licked Karath’s leg.

The pup had already proven that Karath’s concerns were unnecessary.

Once they entered the forest, Buddy remained completely silent.

Whenever Karath concealed his presence, the young wolf instinctively attempted to hide its own.

Perhaps it was simply following the hunting instincts of its species.

Whatever the reason, looking at Buddy was far more relaxing than watching the disaster unfolding around him.

Then again, wolves belonged to the canine family.

No matter where Karath looked, everything had gone to the dogs.

“Why are you hunting without setting any traps?”

Karath directed the question toward Krog and Kaden, who had spent hours wandering in search of prey.

In their own way, the two were experienced hunters.

Their ability to identify tracks and other signs was clearly superior to Karath’s.

Years of playing something between hide-and-seek and wilderness survival had also made them skilled at concealing themselves.

Once they discovered prey, they usually approached and killed it without much difficulty.

The problem was that all those advantages mattered only after they found something.

How were they supposed to know where prey might be while aimlessly wandering through the forest all day?

Karath had never been a professional hunter in his former life, but even he knew that hunters used traps to catch animals.

Krog and Kaden had spent years building traps to torment one another during hide-and-seek.

Why had they abandoned the method while hunting?

Karath did not expect primitive tribespeople to solve every problem independently.

However, they could at least use something they had practiced for years.

“We set traps at first,” Krog replied. “That was how we learned.”

“But we were told to stop,” Kaden added.

“Why?”

“The uncles fell into them.”

Karath stared at them.

“Why did the uncles enter your traps?”

“Because they walked through the places where we set them.”

That was technically reasonable.

The traps the children once created had looked like harmless pranks.

After more than five years of hide-and-seek, however, their construction skills had advanced beyond common sense.

The forest also offered countless places to conceal traps.

Even adult orcs familiar with hunting would struggle to notice something prepared by Krog or Kaden.

One question still remained.

“Why were the uncles walking through the place where you were hunting?”

“To hunt.”

Karath’s expression became blank.

“The uncles went in that direction earlier.”

“Yes.”

“Then why would they fall into a trap here?”

“If they keep moving while looking for prey, they might eventually come this way. We might also wander into their area.”

Karath and the two brothers stared at one another in mutual confusion.

Why did the conversation keep circling around itself?

After forcing himself to continue questioning them, Karath finally understood the cause.

There were no assigned hunting areas.

His ignorant but precious tribespeople simply entered the forest, separated, and hunted wherever they pleased.

They had no agreements, boundaries, or rules.

“Then divide the forest into separate areas.”

“Divide it how?”

“Mark the areas on a map.”

“What is a map?”

Karath closed his eyes.

Of course there was no map.

This damned primitive society had no maps.

Back in the modern world, Karath had used them so naturally that he never appreciated their importance.

A smartphone allowed anyone to view a map or navigation system whenever needed.

During childhood in the Bloodclaw settlement, he had never understood their value either because he was confined within the village.

The moment he began exploring the forest, he realized how essential they were.

The problem extended beyond patrols and hunting.

Suppose Karath discovered an iron deposit or another valuable resource.

Perhaps another orc would find something useful and report it to him.

Without a map, someone would have to guide Karath to the location repeatedly until he memorized the route.

The tribe desperately needed a map.

Unfortunately, none existed.

There was only one solution.

Karath would have to make one himself.

The answer was painfully simple and equally exhausting.

One week after recognizing the need for a map, Karath gathered the adult warriors.

During that time, he joined the hunters and patrols each day, then worked on the map whenever he returned.

He obtained a large animal hide from the women processing the tribe’s catches.

Using ash from burned wood and the blood of hunted animals, he drew the surrounding terrain across its surface.

“This is called a map.”

Karath displayed the rough product before his uncles and older companions.

“The settlement is here in the center. This is the front gate, and this is the rear gate. These directions are east, west, north, and south.”

“What are east, west, north, and south?”

The first question arrived before he finished the opening explanation.

“They are words used to describe directions. The place where the sun rises is east. Where it sets is west. Using those as references, this side is south and the other side is north.”

The conversation might have driven another person into despair.

Karath had served as caretaker for the tribe’s children since he was nine years old.

Questions at this level no longer affected him.

“When you leave through the front gate and continue in this direction, you eventually reach an enormous tree, correct?”

“Oh! Karath means that tree.”

“Yes. Karath drew it here. From now on, hunting groups will use that tree as a reference and spread out in four different directions.”

“Why bother?”

“Because your routes will not overlap. If several groups enter the same area, setting traps becomes dangerous and the hunt becomes less efficient.”

The orcs nodded and said they understood.

Karath could not tell whether they truly grasped the explanation or merely accepted it because he had spoken.

“Does anyone know of a useful landmark between north and east from this tree? Something enormous, such as an unusually shaped tree or rock?”

“I do!”

Krog raised his hand immediately.

“If the distance from the settlement to the large tree is this long, then it should be around here. There is an enormous rock shaped like a rabbit!”

Krog stepped forward, estimated the distance, and pointed to a position on the hide.

Perhaps because he had spent more time with Karath than any other child, he understood Karath’s explanations better than the others.

It was also possible that he had simply been born more intelligent.

“Does anyone know useful landmarks directly north or east?”

“If you continue east, you reach the river!”

“There is a cliff far to the north!”

After seeing Krog’s example, the other orcs began offering everything they remembered.

Each time someone described a landmark, Karath added a simple drawing to the map.

“From now on, we will divide the forest into hunting areas using these landmarks. Every morning, decide which group will enter each area before leaving. Understood?”

“Understood!”

“Yes, Karath!”

His adorable little chicks answered with thunderous voices.

They were somewhat foolish, but they listened well.

That made them strangely endearing.

“After each hunt, draw the area you explored on a piece of animal hide like this. We will continue expanding the map and adding more details.”

There was a reason Karath presented an unfinished map instead of waiting until he had completed everything himself.

Mapping the entire forest alone could require years.

Once the hunters understood the basic idea, Karath could distribute the work among every adult orc who regularly explored outside the settlement.

“Understood!”

None of them asked why a more detailed map was necessary.

Perhaps their brilliant minds had immediately recognized its importance.

That was impossible.

They were doing it because Karath told them to.

That was the power of the achievements and trust he had accumulated over fifteen years.

Chapter 42

Learning to Fight Together

“The patrols will do the same,” Karath continued. “We will create a more detailed map of the land surrounding the settlement. Once that is finished, traps can be installed and their locations marked.”

Without records of those locations, every orc except the trap’s creator would risk falling into it.

The traps used during hide-and-seek inside the village had been different.

There were only so many places and methods available for constructing them within the settlement.

The forest possessed thick vegetation and varied terrain.

Traps were easy to dig and conceal, but extremely difficult to discover.

“One final matter. Beginning today, everyone will undergo combat training after returning from hunting or patrol duty each evening.”

“Huh? We already do that every day.”

“You mean fighting, right?”

For the first time, the adult orcs looked openly confused.

Whenever they returned from their duties, or had a day without assigned work, they already spent their free time beating one another.

That was not the kind of training Karath meant.

“Suppose Uncle Galon, Uncle Goldin, and Uncle Gwein encounter a troll. How would you hunt it?”

“How else? We would conceal our presence and approach it.”

“And then?”

“We all attack together.”

“Exactly! We charge together and smash its skull!”

“Krahahaha! A troll will not die unless its head is destroyed!”

The three uncles laughed heartily and exchanged passionate looks, pleased that their thoughts aligned perfectly.

Karath sighed.

The second serious problem he had discovered while observing the tribe’s hunters was their inability to fight as a group.

Painfully, the Bloodclaw orcs possessed no concept of strategy or tactics.

When facing a monster too powerful for one warrior, several orcs attacked it together.

That was the full extent of their cooperation.

They never divided responsibilities or approached the battle according to a plan.

“That is the problem. Uncle Galon could attack first and draw its attention. Then Uncle Gwein and Uncle Goldin could strike from behind. Would that not be far easier than all three of you charging at the same time?”

“D-did Karath call us foolish?”

The three warriors stared at him with deeply wounded expressions.

Had these uncles genuinely believed they were intelligent until now?

“With nothing more than properly divided roles, two of you could probably kill a troll.”

Karath had reached that conclusion during his own battle.

A troll was undoubtedly difficult for a single orc to defeat.

Even Karath had benefited from the creature’s struggle against the Giant Wolf before attacking.

However, did killing one truly require three or four adult warriors?

After watching the uncles hunt, that question had disappeared.

Of course they needed four warriors when they fought like this.

The tribe consisted entirely of infantry.

Calling them berserkers rather than infantry might have been more accurate.

Introducing sophisticated strategy into a force composed of a single type of warrior would be difficult.

Even the simplest tactics, however, would be better than nothing.

“Karath, a battle depends upon momentum!”

“That is right! If you think too much and lose your spirit, you die!”

The older warriors who had spent more than a decade enjoying simple, violent battles naturally resisted.

Karath looked around the gathering.

“Has anyone here killed a troll alone?”

Silence answered him.

“Then perhaps the uncles should listen to the orc who has.”

“Ahem.”

They still looked dissatisfied.

Karath sighed once, then his expression became serious.

“More importantly, the troll is not our real concern. The chief already told everyone what happened several days ago.”

He looked down at Buddy, who was panting quietly beside him.

A single Giant Wolf possessed combat power similar to that of a troll.

Because trolls could regenerate, wolves were normally considered slightly weaker.

Two Giant Wolves fighting one troll would probably produce a close battle.

According to Grild, however, Giant Wolves usually traveled in packs of ten or more.

Buddy’s pack had been destroyed or driven away.

Something far more dangerous than a troll had appeared within a relatively short distance of the settlement.

“Momentum is useful. But if the creature that scattered an entire Giant Wolf pack attacks the village, do you still intend to charge it with nothing but spirit?”

“O-of course.”

“Even if tribespeople die because of it?”

Every warrior reacted at once.

“Karath!”

“That is too far!”

“Speaking harshly is not the problem!”

Karath’s roar silenced their objections.

“The real problem is what happens if it becomes reality!”

He swept his bloodshot gaze across the assembled warriors.

The atmosphere became so hostile that they seemed more like mortal enemies than members of the same family.

“That is why training is necessary.”

Karath met the eyes of every adult orc standing in the settlement’s clearing.

His voice fell into a bestial growl.

“You must learn to protect the tribe in any situation, even if the most dangerous monster imaginable comes for us.”

Chapter 43

The First Tactics

Silence settled over the clearing after Karath’s growl.

A contest of wills had formed between him and the older warriors.

The younger adults who had grown up training beside Karath before completing their coming-of-age ceremonies stood awkwardly between the two sides.

They had followed Karath since childhood and were inclined to agree with him, but they were clearly reluctant to oppose their uncles.

Karath suppressed a sigh while continuing to stare down the older warriors.

He had expected something like this to happen from the moment he suggested changing the tribe’s methods of hunting and fighting.

Karath had introduced many changes to the settlement since the age of eight, but most of them concerned daily life.

He had also used games to train the children while serving as their caretaker, though the adults had probably found those exercises more amusing than serious.

The older warriors had followed Karath’s instructions when constructing houses, drainage ditches, and the stone wall.

Those were areas they knew little about, so accepting his guidance had not threatened their pride.

Hunting was different.

Most of these warriors had already been traveling through the forest as adults when Karath was born.

Naturally, they took pride in the methods they had practiced for more than a decade.

Karath felt like a newly assigned second lieutenant standing before a group of veteran sergeants.

He was the most promising warrior in the settlement, its future chief, and already its strongest fighter.

Even so, he had only recently completed his coming-of-age ceremony.

From the warriors’ perspective, he knew little about the forest or the realities of hunting.

They understood that Karath would eventually outrank them.

They also knew that he possessed extraordinary ability.

At present, however, they probably believed he lacked practical experience.

Under ordinary circumstances, Karath would have changed their minds gradually by producing visible results, just as he had done during childhood.

There was no time for that now.

A monster powerful enough to scatter an entire Giant Wolf pack might have appeared near the settlement.

“Keh... Keh heh heh.”

Uncle Galon finally ended the prolonged confrontation with an awkward laugh.

“Karath is making a reasonable point! He is saying all this because he wants to protect the tribe!”

Perhaps Galon supported him because he had personally witnessed Karath’s hunt during the coming-of-age ceremony.

Among the older warriors, he was the first to openly take Karath’s side.

“Besides, following Karath’s ideas has never caused us any harm! Let us try it first. If it proves useless, we can simply return to our old methods!”

“Ahem.”

Under Galon’s continued persuasion, the other warriors reluctantly began nodding.

“Yes. Try it first,” Karath added before the opportunity disappeared. “If you still dislike it afterward, you may return to your previous methods.”

Karath was confident that even his simplest tactics would be better than what they were doing now.

A week passed after his confrontation with the older warriors.

The fastest changes appeared among the younger adults rather than the uncles.

They had grown up beside Karath, so they understood his instructions relatively quickly and began moving as he intended.

They divided the forest into assigned areas according to the map and installed traps inside their own sections.

They also applied the skills learned through childhood hide-and-seek whenever they encountered monsters.

One warrior would attract the creature’s attention while another attacked from behind.

Sometimes they deliberately lured prey toward a trap, then surrounded it after it fell.

By recalling their childhood games, the younger warriors began developing and applying various hunting methods.

The number of animals and monsters they brought back increased steadily, even within a single week.

Because of those results, the older warriors could no longer openly criticize Karath.

That did not mean they adapted as quickly.

“That is not how you are supposed to do it!”

The uncles received lectures from Karath almost every day.

They had been hunting since before he was born.

As individual hunters, they possessed far more knowledge than he did about finding tracks and understanding the habits of animals and monsters.

They had almost no experience with coordinated hunting or group combat.

After more than a decade of fighting in the same way, abandoning their ingrained habits was difficult.

Being scolded by someone who had only recently become an adult should have made them rebellious.

Karath knew a better way to motivate them.

“Kurdan and Kez killed a manticore together yesterday. Would you not be ashamed if three uncles failed to kill a troll while your nephews succeeded with only two warriors?”

The humiliation of falling behind their nephews mattered far more than receiving lectures from Karath.

The manticore Karath mentioned possessed a lion’s body, batlike wings, and a scorpion’s tail.

Its size and strength were comparable to those of a troll.

The venomous tail and strange movements created by its wings made it extremely difficult to hunt.

Fortunately, the wings were too small for true flight.

They functioned more like the wings of an oversized chicken, allowing the monster to leap and shift its body unpredictably.

Trolls were dangerous because of their regeneration.

Manticores were dangerous because of their venom and unusual mobility.

In the past, either creature required three or four orc warriors working together.

The previous day, however, Kurdan and Kez had used a trap and alternated drawing the monster’s attention until the two of them killed it alone.

It was an enormous improvement.

That improvement placed the older warriors under even greater pressure.

They considered themselves veterans who had spent more than ten years hunting throughout the forest.

Now warriors more than a decade younger were beginning to hunt with greater skill.

For orcs who took immense pride in being descendants of warriors and hunters, such a result was intolerable.

“I will draw its attention first!”

“Understood!”

“Wait for the opening! Karath will smash its skull from behind!”

After that, the uncles no longer became irritated when Karath corrected them.

They desperately attempted to follow every instruction.

Comparing competitive people to more successful neighbors remained one of the most effective forms of motivation.

Chapter 44

The Measure of the Forest

While the older warriors struggled to learn tactics, the younger ones faced a different problem.

“You idiot! You drew it far too close!”

“You are the idiot! This distance is correct!”

“So that is why you carry your head around instead of displaying the monster you hunted as a trophy.”

“Krahahaha! You cannot even count. Clearly, your skull is nothing more than decoration. I killed three today, while you caught only one!”

They were offering condolences to the useless ornaments resting upon one another’s shoulders.

Karath approached the group.

“Are the maps coming along?”

“Karath! Look at the map this fool drew!”

“I should be the one saying that!”

The disagreement had begun while they attempted to record the terrain.

“This is pointless. We should decide who is correct with our fists.”

“Krahahaha! That is the first intelligent thing you have said today, idiot!”

Thud!

Unable to resolve the matter with their minds, the two orcs began negotiating with their fists.

The stronger orc was correct.

That was one of the settlement’s absolute truths.

They were not the only ones struggling to reach an agreement.

Fights erupted across the clearing almost simultaneously.

Everyone was clearly devoting themselves completely to the mapping work Karath had assigned.

What a beautiful sight.

Such obedient and hardworking warriors.

“Everyone, stop for a moment.”

Karath had prepared a possible solution and needed to explain it.

“Krahahaha!”

Thud!

“Your punch feels like dust, bastard!”

Thud!

The warriors had already begun embracing one another with their fists and seemed unable to hear him.

Realizing words would not work, Karath entered the brawl.

“I told you idiots to stop!”

Thud!

He struck every orc involved, making no distinction between sides.

The words of the strongest orc were correct.

Therefore, Karath was always correct.

It was time to remind them of that principle.

The meeting that had begun with mapmaking transformed into a general melee.

Around thirty minutes later, every warrior except Karath was sprawled across the ground.

“Keh heh heh. Karath has not changed.”

“Damn it. Karath will win next time!”

Karath was not completely unharmed either.

He released a deep breath.

Although he was the strongest warrior in the settlement, these were all experienced fighters.

Defeating the entire group had not been easy.

Still, everyone had finally calmed down.

Now he could explain what he had intended to discuss.

“The problem is that no one can agree on the distances shown on the map, correct?”

“Exactly, Karath! That idiot keeps talking nonsense!”

“You were the one talking nonsense!”

“Would you like to continue?”

“Krahahaha! If Karath had not interfered, you would already be dead.”

“Please be quiet.”

Karath’s first sentence nearly triggered a second round.

He shouted while releasing another exhausted sigh.

“From now on, we will use this to measure distance.”

Once the warriors settled down, Karath showed them a long wooden rod reaching approximately to his hip.

“We will call the length of this rod one meter. Two rods placed end to end will be two meters. Three will be three meters. Do you understand?”

The warriors had fought because the tribe possessed no standardized method of measuring length.

Each orc judged distance according to personal instinct, so their estimates naturally differed.

Karath had considered the problem when he first began creating the map.

The difficulty was establishing standardized units.

He understood that the more consistent a system of measurement became, the less confusion it created.

Using a body part would have been unreliable.

If the tribe measured distance in feet, every orc’s foot differed in size.

For a brief period, Karath had even considered using his own height as a standard unit.

The idea of measuring everything in Karaths was clearly insane.

More importantly, even Karath found the calculations confusing.

During both of his lives, he had instinctively estimated length using the metric system.

Whenever he observed something, his mind naturally translated it into meters.

A troll, for example, appeared to be approximately two and a half meters tall.

Converting that into Karaths would require dividing two and a half by roughly one point eight five every time.

The thought of repeating that calculation for every object was unbearable.

Karath therefore decided to introduce the metric system simply because it was the one most familiar to him.

One problem remained.

How had the original meter been defined?

Karath had never cared about the history of measurement in his former life, so he had no idea.

He created an approximate version instead.

His leg appeared to be around one meter long, so he cut the wooden rod according to that estimate.

The exact length was less important than ensuring everyone used the same standard.

“This piece of wood is one hundred times smaller than the meter rod. We will call its length one centimeter.”

After deciding to use meters, Karath also prepared a tiny wooden piece approximately one centimeter long.

He could have used only meters and represented ten centimeters as zero point one meters.

That would require teaching the orcs decimals.

Naturally, his innocent companions knew nothing about them.

Producing a separate centimeter unit seemed far easier than teaching decimal notation.

Creating the small wooden standard had been simple in concept and painfully tedious in practice.

Karath first cut another rod to match the one-meter standard.

Then he estimated one tenth of its length and cut a shorter piece.

Using that shorter piece as a guide, he repeated the process ten times and checked whether the combined pieces matched the meter rod.

He continued adjusting them until he created a reasonably accurate ten-centimeter length.

Then he repeated the same division process to produce a piece close to one centimeter.

The entire process required a week of maddeningly repetitive labor.

Karath had searched for a more accurate method, but in their primitive environment, nothing better occurred to him.

He knew the result contained some error.

This was still the best he could achieve.

“When one thousand meter rods are placed together, that distance will be called one kilometer. Understood?”

Since constructing a physical kilometer-long rod was obviously impossible, Karath completed that part verbally.

After listening to the entire explanation, the warriors smiled innocently and shook their heads.

“What does one hundred times mean, Karath? What is one thousand times?”

Karath had explained it incorrectly.

They did not even understand multiplication, yet he had casually spoken in multiples.

“One hundred times means there are one hundred of something.”

“Oh!”

Karath lowered the explanation to what he considered an early elementary school level.

“What is one hundred? Is that a number?”

Karath fell silent.

Perhaps comparing them to American elementary school students was an insult to American children.

“You understand numbers up to ten, correct?”

“Of course, Karath! We can count with our fingers. One, two, three, four...”

The warriors began folding their fingers as they counted.

“What about twenty?”

“We learned that before! After using the fingers, we use the toes. Eleven! Twelve!”

They lifted their feet and began curling their toes as though performing some primitive form of yoga.

“What about thirty?”

“Thirty? What is that?”

“It is twenty plus another ten.”

“Twenty plus ten?”

“We do not have enough toes!”

“Damn it! We do not have enough fingers either!”

“Then lend me your fingers!”

“They are my fingers, bastard!”

The moment the number exceeded twenty, the warriors began shouting as though suffering a collective panic attack.

Karath laughed helplessly at their innocent confusion.

“Hahaha.”

Perhaps he should simply abandon the map.

Chapter 45

Counting Beyond Twenty

“Here are ten stones. Count them.”

Karath arranged ten small stones across the ground.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

Krog stepped forward as the group’s representative and picked up the stones one at a time while counting aloud.

The seated orcs folded their fingers along with him and nodded.

Their astonishing weakness with numbers had made Karath consider abandoning the map entirely.

However, mathematics was a problem they would continue encountering as their civilization developed.

He needed to teach them eventually.

Karath did not expect much.

He only wanted them to understand the four basic operations.

He therefore approached the matter as though teaching first graders and began from the very beginning.

“Now count the next ten.”

“Eleven.”

“Twelve.”

“Thirteen.”

Krog began counting the second group of stones.

The other orcs raised their feet and curled their toes as they followed along.

“Now another ten. You count them the same way as before. There are twenty stones, and one more makes twenty-one. The next is twenty-two.”

This time, Karath demonstrated personally.

“Hmm?”

“Oh! We can count with stones!”

“Then we should carry stones whenever we go hunting!”

The orcs shouted as though they had achieved enlightenment.

Their fingers and toes had been insufficient, but stones allowed them to continue counting.

Kurdan raised another problem.

“Then how many stones are we supposed to carry?”

Everyone fell silent.

“Hmm. We would need far more than thirty.”

“What do we do? We cannot carry that many stones.”

“Wait. Be quiet and keep listening.”

They appeared ready to fall into another collective panic, so Karath stopped them before it began.

“If one stone is placed beside another stone, how many are there?”

“Two!”

“Is Karath stupid? How can he not know that?”

“Krahahaha!”

“Karath is an idiot!”

Karath’s fist trembled.

Perhaps he should beat them all again before continuing.

How did elementary-school and kindergarten teachers manage children every day?

Karath felt profound admiration for every teacher who had ever patiently explained basic arithmetic.

“Haa.”

He calmed himself by imagining that the massive orcs before him were ordinary children rather than warriors built like professional bodybuilders.

“Yes. One plus one is two. Then what happens if we add ten stones to another ten stones?”

“Huh?”

“Wait. We need to count with our fingers.”

The orcs tilted their heads.

“You idiots! The stones are right there. Count those!”

“I am first!”

“Move aside, fools!”

At Kurdan’s shout, every orc charged toward the stones.

Thud!

“You bastard! Karath told us to count with the stones, not hit each other with them!”

Thud!

“Should I smash your face with one instead?”

The warriors fought viciously for possession of the counting stones.

Amid the chaos, someone suddenly shouted.

“Twenty!”

“That is correct!”

Karath cried out with genuine emotion.

“Krog, how did you understand it?”

Krog answered while Karath stared at him with shining eyes.

“We already did it earlier. We counted ten stones, then another ten, and that made twenty.”

“Then what happens if you add another ten to twenty?”

“It should become thirty.”

“Oooooh!”

Karath could not suppress his amazement.

At least one of them understood his lesson.

“Oh! That is right. When we counted ten more after ten, it became twenty.”

Several others began understanding after listening to their exchange.

“What are you talking about?”

“What does counting ten more have to do with there being another ten?”

Others still failed completely.

“Fine. Let us try again.”

Karath gathered the stones and resumed the lesson, changing the numbers one at a time.

Led by Krog, more orcs gradually began understanding.

Some remained hopelessly confused.

“You idiot! How can you not understand this?”

“Look carefully! There are five stones here. If we add five more, how many are there?”

The warriors who understood first began teaching the slower ones beside them.

More accurately, they began berating them while explaining what they had learned.

A natural system of mentors and students formed between those who understood quickly and those who did not.

Karath could divide his work and assign parts of it to the tribespeople beneath him.

Those orcs could then divide the same task and pass it farther down.

It was a beautiful divide-and-conquer algorithm.

“Why can you not understand this?”

Thud!

“You stone-headed fool!”

Thud!

“Replace that useless skull with one of these rocks! It would probably work better!”

Thud!

Perhaps it was simply a chain of abuse.

The mathematical education that began because of the map eventually became part of the tribe’s daily routine.

Karath did not teach anything particularly advanced.

They merely spent around thirty minutes each day practicing numbers and simple addition.

After approximately a week, most of the warriors began understanding addition.

Karath then taught them Arabic numerals.

Soon, every young warrior could add three-digit numbers.

Krog and several others who learned more quickly also began studying subtraction and four-digit numbers.

At the same time, the mapping project began progressing properly.

Once the orcs could count into the hundreds, they became capable of drawing reasonably detailed maps.

Accurate distance was important, but maintaining the correct direction mattered just as much.

Fortunately, direction caused almost no difficulty.

Every orc possessed an unnaturally strong sense of orientation.

Perhaps that was one of the unwanted gifts bestowed by the monster-infested forest.

An orc who became lost in this wilderness was practically dead.

After generations of surviving in such an environment, the tribe might have naturally developed an excellent sense of direction.

It was also possible that only orcs born with that ability survived long enough to pass on their traits.

“When Karath thinks about it, that is strange.”

He muttered while organizing his thoughts.

“What is?”

Krog looked up from the map he was working on beside him.

“The tribe counts days, so why did everyone know numbers only up to twenty?”

Orc knowledge was extremely unbalanced.

Everything centered upon survival and hunting.

Even so, they tracked days by observing the sun and moon.

As on Earth, they considered one full cycle of the moon growing and shrinking to be a month.

They did not describe dates numerically, such as the fifteenth day of the third month.

Instead, they used expressions based upon the moon’s appearance, such as the day of the third round moon.

“Do we really need numbers?” Krog asked with a tusked smile. “They are useful for maps, but what else would we use them for?”

“It might not matter greatly, but it is strange that we cannot even count how many tribespeople live here.”

Karath was not entirely certain how necessary numbers were in a primitive society.

The tribe had no currency.

The orcs did not even trade goods among themselves.

Still, being unable to count the people living beside them seemed absurd to someone with a modern perspective.

Karath smiled lightly at the irony.

Krog’s expression, however, became bitter.

“I know numbers now, but in the past, Krog probably would not have wanted to count.”

“Why?”

“Because the number changed too often.”

Karath immediately understood.

His own expression became equally bitter.

Knowing the tribe’s exact population would also mean knowing exactly how many people died each day.

Before Karath was born, the tribe’s living conditions had been terrible.

Death had been an ordinary part of daily life.

People on Earth sometimes claimed that leaders of large organizations viewed those beneath them as nothing more than numbers.

Karath had briefly managed a small company and understood something else.

Few things made reality more immediate than a number.

Knowing exactly how many orcs died every day would have been horrifying, especially under conditions as brutal as these.

“But perhaps it is safe to count now.”

Karath deliberately spoke in a brighter voice.

There was no reason for both of them to remain trapped in gloomy thoughts.

He lifted the map they had been drawing together.

Approximately one month had passed since Karath began teaching the warriors numbers.

Naturally, any map created with primitive tools became less accurate as it extended farther from its original reference point.

The farther they traveled from the settlement, the greater the distortion became.

That also meant the land directly surrounding the village had been mapped with considerable accuracy.

The tribe could now place large numbers of traps near the settlement without worry.

Every trap was marked upon the shared map.

As long as the warriors consulted it, the chance of a hunter or scout falling into one decreased dramatically.

A detailed map covering approximately five hundred meters around the settlement had become the common reference used by every warrior.

At first, they displayed it inside the chief’s house.

However, Grild was growing older and apparently desired some privacy.

The tribe eventually constructed another earthen building.

Every warrior assigned to hunt or patrol visited it daily to inspect or modify the map.

It had become something resembling an operations center.

The patrol system changed naturally alongside it.

Rather than wandering through the area without a plan, scouts designed routes based upon the locations of the traps.

If they discovered an animal or monster caught inside one, they killed it.

If a trap had been damaged, they repaired it.

Karath hoped to eventually create scheduled shifts divided by time of day and establish a far more efficient patrol system.

To accomplish that, however, he would first need to create units of time.

The warriors would also need to learn writing before they could read a duty schedule.

The thought alone was exhausting.

He would proceed one step at a time.

If he continued building each part slowly, a solution would eventually appear.

Programming had worked that way.

Managing a company had been the same.

“That is true,” Krog said.

His tusked smile returned.

“Everything has become much better because of Karath.”

Krog’s words caused Karath to remember everything he had accomplished.

The settlement had already changed greatly since the day he was born.

If he continued moving forward as he had until now, perhaps he would eventually create the environment he dreamed of.

For the moment, Karath chose to believe that.

Chapter 46

When the Forest Fell Silent

“The weather is pleasant.”

As usual, Karath washed with soap at the well before leaving the settlement with his uncles and older companions.

“Do you agree, Buddy?”

Buddy followed him outside as naturally as ever.

When Karath first discovered the pup, it had been no larger than a small dog.

During the following month, it grew at an astonishing rate.

The pup had apparently suffered from severe malnutrition before Karath found it.

Once he began feeding Buddy meat and the hearts of monsters every day, the wolf seemed to grow larger by the hour.

In only one month, Buddy had reached the size of a medium dog, comparable to a husky or similar breed.

Compared with the adult Giant Wolf Karath had seen, however, he remained tiny.

“Will you hunt alone again today, Buddy?”

The group had reached the enormous tree used as the point where hunting parties separated.

When Karath asked the question, Buddy wagged his tail as though responding and disappeared alone into the undergrowth.

Karath chuckled and began hunting with the others.

“Krahahaha! Today, Karath will finally witness Kaden’s true skill!”

Kaden immediately began boasting when they were assigned to the same group again.

“Before displaying your hunting skill, perhaps you should learn to count.”

As though following a prepared script, Krog immediately provoked his older cousin.

Their exchange had become an ordinary part of every hunt.

The three moved through the forest in search of prey.

They installed traps along paths frequently used by animals.

Whenever they discovered unusual terrain, they measured the distance and recorded it for the map.

When they encountered animals or monsters, they concealed their presence, approached carefully, and killed them.

During the hunt, a faint rustling came from the bushes beside them.

In the past, Karath would have tensed and assumed prey was approaching.

Rustle.

The vegetation parted, and Buddy poked his head through.

A dead rabbit hung from his jaws.

After accompanying Karath on hunts for the past month, the pup seemed to have learned enough to hunt independently.

“A rabbit today?”

Karath stroked Buddy’s head as the wolf proudly presented his catch.

“Keh heh heh. That creature is remarkably intelligent. Perhaps Kaden should raise a wolf as well.”

“Why? Buddy already seems more intelligent than you.”

“That is true.”

Kaden laughed heartily without realizing Krog had insulted him.

Krog, who had expected a different reaction, smiled with a strange expression.

Amid that familiar atmosphere, Karath was the first to sense that something was wrong.

It was not a clear sound or visible sign.

A chill crawled along his spine, accompanied by an instinctive feeling of danger.

His gaze moved toward the side.

Then he understood.

“It is strangely quiet.”

No sound surrounded them other than their subdued conversation.

The insects that constantly filled the forest with faint noise had fallen silent.

Not a single bird could be heard.

The forest had not become completely soundless.

Thud.

Thud.

A distant noise reached them.

It was quiet, but impossibly heavy.

At the same time, a faint vibration began traveling through the ground beneath their feet.

Karath, Krog, Kaden, and Buddy all turned toward the source at once.

Something appeared beyond the undergrowth.

Its enormous body dwarfed every troll, manticore, and Horn Boar they had ever hunted.

Karath had never seen such a creature alive.

Yet it felt horribly familiar.

A skull belonging to the same species rested inside his family’s home.

It was the monster his father had died killing.

The tyrant of the forest.

An ogre.

Chapter 47

The Tyrant of the Forest

The moment Karath realized the creature was an ogre, rage did not suddenly overwhelm him.

The ogre responsible for his father’s death had already been reduced to a skull and hide resting inside their home.

Besides, Garthon had died before Karath was born.

To Karath, he was little more than his biological father. There were no personal memories to stir powerful emotions.

Perhaps that was because Karath still did not consider himself a complete orc.

“What is that?”

Unlike Karath, Krog and Kaden did not recognize the unfamiliar monster.

“An ogre.”

Their eyes widened.

“That thing?”

“How do you know, Karath? Have you seen one before?”

“The skull and hide inside Karath’s house look exactly like it.”

“Ah.”

The three concealed themselves within the undergrowth and spoke as quietly as possible to avoid attracting the ogre’s attention.

None of them appeared frightened.

Like Karath, Krog and Kaden had orc blood flowing through their bodies.

Their eyes were already bloodshot, and they looked ready to leap from hiding and challenge the creature immediately.

The patience they had developed while training beside Karath since childhood was the only reason they restrained themselves.

Karath could easily see that both wanted to hunt it.

Instead of charging forward, however, he began calculating.

Could they actually kill the creature?

The ogre was still some distance away, and the vegetation concealed parts of its body, making its exact size difficult to determine.

Its head rose above most of the surrounding trees.

That alone revealed that it belonged to an entirely different class from every monster Karath had hunted so far.

He did not even need to judge it by sight.

Thump. Thump.

Merely recognizing the ogre’s presence made his heart pound fiercely.

Orc blood awakened the desire to fight whenever danger appeared.

In a sense, that instinct lay at the foundation of the entire orc race.

The blood within Karath surged violently in response to the ogre.

Perhaps it was an instinct created through countless generations of survival.

The creature before them was dangerous.

An ogre was known as the tyrant of the forest.

It was a walking natural disaster capable of destroying an entire orc tribe alone.

Was this the creature that destroyed the Giant Wolf pack?

Karath remembered Grild’s warning.

A monster might have appeared nearby with enough strength to scatter or annihilate a full pack of Giant Wolves.

The ogre before him seemed like the most likely culprit.

Even at a conservative estimate, a Giant Wolf pack possessed strength equal to at least twenty orc warriors.

That was approximately seventy percent of the Bloodclaw Tribe’s current fighting force.

Could Karath kill a monster capable of destroying such a pack alone?

Impossible.

But what if the tribe’s warriors fought together?

The locations and designs of the traps they had added to the map over the previous month passed through Karath’s mind.

He imagined the uncles and older warriors who had finally begun coordinating their movements and fighting according to simple strategies.

Perhaps they had a real chance.

The tribe’s military strength had undoubtedly improved.

Even so, Karath had never fought an ogre and could not calculate the outcome accurately.

He had no intention of dragging the tribespeople into a reckless battle merely to test whether they could win.

His own safety and that of the tribe always came first.

If this were a game and the ogre were a boss that rewarded equipment, experience, or levels, the risk might have been worthwhile.

In reality, killing it might provide nothing more than several days of food.

Karath refused to throw his people into a fire simply to satisfy his curiosity.

He continued calculating.

Could the ogre be hunted without losing anyone?

Then he recognized something he had overlooked.

The question was not whether they could hunt it.

They had to hunt it.

As long as the ogre wandered through the tribe’s hunting grounds, it might eventually approach the settlement.

Waiting until it arrived at the village would be foolish.

It would be far better to fight in a location they had prepared and where every advantage belonged to them.

Only around three seconds passed while Karath debated whether to hunt the creature.

That was enough for him to reach a decision.

“Karath intends to hunt that ogre.”

“Are you serious?”

Krog’s voice contained a trace of worry unusual for an orc.

Kaden bared his tusks in delight.

“Krahaha! As expected of Karath. We had the same thought!”

“The three of us cannot kill it. We need to gather the warriors and lure it into a trap.”

“Oh. Then it might work.”

“Hmm. Kaden would rather fight the ogre directly.”

“Kaden, stop talking nonsense.”

“Hmph!”

Kaden snorted, but he did not do anything stupid like charging alone.

“Karath will follow the ogre and keep track of its position. Krog, move through the hunting areas and gather the uncles and older warriors. Kaden, return toward the settlement and bring the warriors currently patrolling nearby.”

The map had divided the hunters into assigned areas.

Finding and gathering them would take some time, but it should not be difficult.

“Understood,” Kaden replied immediately.

Krog noticed another problem.

“How will we know where the ogre went? More importantly, how will we find Karath while he follows it?”

“We can leave that to Buddy.”

Karath stroked the wolf’s head.

Even when Buddy hunted alone, he always returned and found Karath afterward.

His sense of smell was extraordinary.

Karath washed with soap before every hunt, yet Buddy could still identify his scent and track him without difficulty.

If the wolf were following the smell of soap, he should occasionally approach another warrior.

Instead, he always found Karath.

“Oh. That will work!”

“Krahaha! We are counting on you, Buddy.”

Krog and Kaden looked at the wolf with shining eyes.

Buddy wagged his tail and nodded as though assuring them that everything would be fine.

“Gather every warrior near the thirteenth trap north of the settlement. Once everyone is there, Krog will return with Buddy and find Karath. Then Karath will lure the ogre toward the trap.”

“Is that where we will kill it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Let us begin.”

“Keh heh heh. Ogre meat for dinner. Kaden has never tasted anything so rare.”

After finishing their discussion, Krog and Kaden quietly withdrew through the undergrowth with Buddy and departed to complete their assigned tasks.

Karath remained behind and followed the ogre from a safe distance.

When tracking ordinary prey, dense vegetation often concealed the target just as effectively as it concealed the hunter.

That usually forced hunters to remain fairly close.

The ogre was different.

Its body was so enormous that Karath could continue spotting it through gaps in the vegetation even from a considerable distance.

He followed the creature carefully for more than an hour.

Rustle.

A quiet sound came from the bushes beside him.

Buddy pushed his head through the vegetation, and Krog appeared immediately behind him.

“Did everyone gather?”

“Yes. They are all waiting near the thirteenth trap.”

“Good. Then it is time to begin.”

A smile spread across Karath’s face.

He had spent more than an hour suppressing his presence and following the ogre.

Thump. Thump.

His orc blood had raged without pause during that entire time.

Remaining hidden while every instinct demanded battle had created an unbearable frustration within his body.

It felt as though he had swallowed an aphrodisiac, been tied down, and forced to do nothing more than kiss for an entire hour.

At last, the moment had arrived to release everything he had restrained.

Chapter 48

The Thirteenth Trap

“You bald bastard!”

Karath rose from the undergrowth and hurled the enormous rock he had prepared.

Thud!

The stone struck the back of the ogre’s head precisely.

Karath had thrown it with strength comparable to an Olympic shot put champion.

The ogre merely turned around with an expression that seemed to ask who had thrown such a harmless object at it.

Then it saw Karath.

“GRAAAAAAAH!”

Although nearly fifty meters separated them, the roar crossed the distance and slammed into Karath’s eardrums.

The entire forest seemed to tremble.

Then the ogre charged.

Thud!

Thud!

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Until that moment, it had moved with slow, relaxed steps.

Perhaps it had merely been conserving its strength.

Once it began running, the speed produced by its massive body was terrifying.

“Damn it!”

“Why is that thing so fast?”

Karath and Krog had prepared to flee before the stone was thrown.

They began running the instant the ogre moved.

When Karath glanced back, however, he saw the distance between them gradually shrinking.

Crash!

Crack!

Trees and bushes shattered against the ogre’s body without slowing it.

Had those obstacles not interfered, the creature might already have caught them.

There was hardly any need to look behind.

“GRAAAAAH!”

Crash!

Thud! Thud!

The ogre’s roars, the sound of trees breaking, and the vibrations created by its footsteps constantly revealed its position.

Karath felt like the protagonist of a horror film.

Even while fleeing, he reconstructed the map inside his head and calculated their current location.

“Left!”

Karath changed direction while guiding the ogre.

Krog followed without questioning him.

“Jump at the point ahead!”

“Krog knows!”

They leaped from exactly the same place as though their movements had been mirrored.

A moment later, the ogre stepped into the concealed trigger.

Thwack!

“GRAAAAAH!”

A heavy log swung from the side and struck the monster.

Karath and Krog continued leading it across the routes they had mapped, passing one trap after another.

Whenever the ogre began closing the distance, another mechanism struck it.

Its eyes became increasingly bloodshot as rage consumed it, and it pursued them while roaring without pause.

“What is that bastard’s hide made of?”

Karath found nothing amusing about the sight.

Some of the traps were powerful enough to injure most medium-sized monsters severely.

The ogre had merely become angrier.

None of the mechanisms had produced anything that could be called a serious wound.

Its body showed only shallow scratches and abrasions.

The sight made Karath uneasy.

It was already too late to reconsider.

He continued guiding the monster toward the trap where the Bloodclaw warriors had gathered.

“This way!”

Before long, the waiting orcs appeared ahead.

Kaden stood at the front and called toward them.

Karath, Krog, and Buddy continued running straight until they neared the warriors.

Then they separated, darting to opposite sides and joining the group.

“GRAAAAAAAH!”

The enraged ogre continued charging directly forward.

Crack!

The ground collapsed beneath it.

The thirteenth trap was the most elaborate mechanism the tribe had constructed during the previous month.

It was a pit approximately five meters long and wide, with a depth of around two and a half meters.

The bottom was packed with sharpened wooden stakes tipped with stone blades.

“GRAAAAAAAH!”

Even after falling into the pit, the insane creature continued roaring as though it had suffered no meaningful injury.

“Attack!”

Karath shouted with enough force to tear his own throat.

“Kill it!”

“Krahahahaha!”

At his command, the warriors of the Bloodclaw Tribe charged toward the trapped ogre.

Chapter 49

Bleeding the Giant

The ogre flailed its limbs inside the pit, forced itself upright, and planted its hands on the ground as it tried to climb out.

The creature was insane.

The trap was around two and a half meters deep, yet the ogre’s immense body made it seem shallow. The edge of the pit barely reached the middle of its chest.

It was clearly taller than three and a half meters, and perhaps close to four.

Its arms, legs, and head were all proportionally enormous, each defying common sense.

“Attack it from behind!”

“If it looks directly at you, dodge immediately!”

“Do not fight it from the front!”

Karath shouted with enough force to tear his throat as he directed the warriors.

There was no reason to test the strength produced by that massive body using the tribespeople’s lives.

Even a grazing blow would probably break bones.

If one of its attacks struck a vital area, the warrior would die instantly.

“Strike its fingers and palms! Do not let it escape the pit!”

“Warriors with axes and clubs, attack the fingers from the front and retreat immediately! Those carrying spears, stab from the sides!”

The previous month of training had produced results.

Not only the younger warriors, but even the uncles moved according to Karath’s commands as they tormented the monster.

The skin and bones of its hands were apparently weaker than the rest of its body.

After being struck repeatedly by stone axes, the ogre’s fingers became swollen and twisted, with blood seeping from them.

Small streams of blood also appeared where spears tipped with stone blades pierced its hide.

Even so, the ogre did not fall.

“GRAAAAAAAH!”

The pain seemed to drive it completely mad.

It swung both arms wildly around the pit.

During an ordinary battle, such enormous movements would have left countless openings.

The problem was the ogre’s absurd size and the strength accompanying it.

Every careless swing was dangerous.

One of the older warriors failed to evade completely.

Thud!

The ogre’s hand only grazed his shoulder.

The warrior’s arm was left hanging like a shredded rag, the bones inside crushed beyond recognition.

“You bastard! I will kill you!”

The orc remained defiant despite having his arm destroyed.

It was an attitude worthy of a Bloodclaw warrior, but this was not the time to praise him.

“Damn it! Everyone, withdraw for a moment!”

Karath ordered the warriors away from the pit.

Their eyes had become bloodshot with excitement, but they still understood his command and retreated one step at a time.

The ogre seized the opportunity.

Unable to support itself with its mangled fingers, it pressed both palms against the ground and began lifting its body from the pit.

“Attack again!”

The warriors charged at Karath’s command.

This time, the ogre ignored them.

Stone axes and clubs battered its body while spears stabbed into its hide, but the creature continued dragging itself upward without reacting.

By the time its upper body had completely emerged from the pit, Karath made his decision.

“Move away!”

He charged forward with a stone axe.

“Raaagh!”

Karath passed through the gap opened by the retreating warriors and swung the weapon at the ogre’s eye with all his strength.

The creature did not raise an arm to block or evade.

Just before the axe landed, it turned its head and attempted to receive the strike with its forehead.

Crash!

Karath recognized the movement at the last moment and changed the direction of the axe.

He failed to destroy the eye itself.

Instead, the blade struck the area where a human’s eyebrow would have been.

Crack!

As always, the stone axe could not withstand Karath’s full strength and broke apart.

He had replaced the wooden handle with the bone of the troll he killed, believing ordinary wood was too weak.

This time, the point connecting the handle and stone head separated.

Still, the attack had accomplished part of its purpose.

The eye had survived, but the flesh above it became swollen and partially crushed.

Blood flowed from the wound and poured into the ogre’s eye.

It would have difficulty seeing through the right side for some time.

Karath found little comfort in that fact.

The ogre’s remaining eye stared directly at him, its veins swollen red.

The gaze seemed to carry a clear promise.

The moment it escaped the pit, Karath would be the first one torn apart.

“Everyone, fall back!”

Karath did not give the command because the creature’s glare frightened him.

The ogre had already pulled its upper body free.

It would soon escape completely, and anyone remaining nearby could be caught in its rampage.

“Karath!”

“Get away from it!”

The other warriors retreated several steps and shouted when they noticed Karath still standing beside the monster.

He was not remaining behind as a sacrifice.

“Karath will hold its attention! Move to the seventh trap!”

“Uncle Goldin, help Uncle Gwein return toward the settlement!”

Karath continued issuing orders without taking his eyes from the ogre.

“GRAAAAAAAH!”

The creature finally pulled itself from the pit and roared.

The traps had not been useless.

Blood covered the ogre’s body.

Its fingers, repeatedly struck by stone axes and clubs made from monster bones, had been twisted in every direction.

The backs of its hands were soaked red.

Blood flowed from countless wounds left by stone-tipped stakes and spears fashioned from bone.

Its thick hide prevented any single injury from becoming fatal, but even shallow wounds became serious when they numbered in the hundreds.

The sharpened stakes at the bottom of the pit had also done some damage.

The ogre’s lower body was covered in blood.

None of that meant it was close to death.

“GRAAAAAAH!”

The blood-soaked ogre swung an arm toward Karath, seemingly determined to fulfill the promise in its gaze.

Whoosh!

The arm of a four-meter giant tore through the air.

“Hup!”

Karath remained calm and threw himself sideways, narrowly avoiding the strike.

The creature could no longer see properly through one eye.

Karath had also observed its movements while remaining behind the other warriors and giving commands.

His month of training with Roberto proved valuable once again.

Having memorized the ogre’s movements, Karath could read its intentions from minor changes in its body.

Its enormous size made every small motion especially easy to notice.

“Krahahaha! You are far too slow, bald bastard!”

Karath continued provoking the creature while hurling his body aside to evade each attack.

He would have preferred using smaller movements, but the ogre’s reach was too broad.

He probably looked ridiculous as he leaped wildly from side to side, but survival mattered more than dignity.

“GRAAAAAAAH!”

Crash!

The ogre roared in frustration.

Its arms and legs repeatedly destroyed bushes and trees without striking Karath.

“Over here, you stupid bastard!”

“You are even dumber than Kaden!”

Karath continued taunting the creature as he avoided its brutal attacks.

There was no guarantee it understood his words, so he also picked up stones and branches whenever possible and hurled them at its face.

Whoosh!

While evading every swing, Karath read the surrounding terrain and guided the ogre toward the next trap marked on the map.

“Now!”

The instant the monster triggered it, the warriors who had moved ahead charged at Karath’s shout.

“Withdraw again!”

“Krog, take several uncles back to the settlement! Bring more weapons and distribute them to everyone whose equipment has broken!”

The same pattern repeated.

While the ogre struggled within each trap, the warriors attacked relentlessly.

Before it could recover fully, they retreated.

Karath then acted as bait, drawing its attention and guiding it toward the next prepared position.

It was a battle of attrition.

Karath intended to bleed the ogre to death one trap at a time.

Had every warrior attacked without restraint at the first pit, they might have killed it there.

Karath had no way to know how many tribespeople would have died in the process.

Even if the battle became slow and exhausting, he wanted to minimize their losses.

Only one part of the plan had disappointed him.

“You truly are disgustingly durable.”

The ogre’s stamina surpassed everything Karath had expected.

They had already used nearly every large trap around the settlement capable of harming such an enormous creature.

The ogre now resembled a demon that had crawled from the depths of hell.

The battle had continued for at least an hour.

Blood had flowed and dried across its body repeatedly, covering it in a strange mixture of black, brown, and red.

Its movements had also slowed noticeably compared with the beginning.

It had lost a tremendous amount of blood.

“We finish it at the next trap!”

Karath decided to end the battle.

If they continued testing its limits, the monster might finally turn and flee.

“Good! Let us kill it!”

“Krahahaha!”

“I claim its skull!”

“The first warrior to break it owns it, idiot!”

The warriors laughed boldly and moved toward the final trap.

They should have been exhausted after such a prolonged struggle.

Perhaps their orc blood sustained them.

Perhaps they had simply realized that victory was near.

Whatever the reason, every voice remained powerful.

“Haa.”

Once again, Karath stayed behind alone to guide the ogre.

The creature’s attacks had become dull with exhaustion, but Karath was equally tired.

Even when he could read the movements, constantly throwing his body aside under the pressure of knowing that a single grazing blow could kill him was far from easy.

“This ends now, you bastard!”

Karath shouted as if attempting to convince himself, then led the ogre toward the final trap.

Chapter 50

The Method of His Father

“Attack!”

At Karath’s final command, every warrior charged toward the ogre as one of its legs became trapped.

“Krog!”

Karath grabbed Krog before he could join the assault.

“What is it?”

“You watched Karath direct everyone until now, correct?”

“Yes... Krog watched.”

“Take command from here.”

“Why so suddenly?”

“There is no time to explain. Do it!”

Karath took the spear from Krog’s hands.

Its point had been made by sharpening the horn of a Horn Boar.

Without waiting for an answer, Karath moved away.

“Damn it.”

He heard Krog curse quietly behind him but ignored it.

Krog would not disappoint him.

“Kaden! Uncle Galon! You have gone too far forward! Retreat!”

“The warriors with axes should only draw its attention!”

“Those carrying spears, attack from behind!”

Krog quickly recovered and began issuing commands in Karath’s place.

Meanwhile, Karath concealed himself.

There was one primary reason the tribe had failed to finish the ogre despite fighting for so long.

They had been unable to inflict a fatal wound.

The tribe possessed no weapon capable of piercing its thick hide, dense muscles, and even harder bones deeply enough to damage its organs.

Their weapons were made from strong stone or monster bones of similar hardness.

That did not mean killing an ogre with such weapons was impossible.

Otherwise, Garthon could never have performed the miracle that ended with an ogre’s death.

Karath had heard the story of how his father killed that creature countless times since childhood.

“Fall back!”

“Now! Attack!”

“Krahahaha!”

“Just die already, you damned monster!”

The warriors continued battling the ogre without Karath.

Then his instincts told him that the moment he had been waiting for had arrived.

Karath moved immediately.

He used the uncles and older warriors fighting the ogre as cover and approached without entering its sight.

“GRAAAAAAH!”

Enraged by the orcs’ endless resistance, the ogre opened its mouth and released another roar.

That was the opening.

Karath rushed between the warriors and jumped.

He planted one foot upon an uncle’s shoulder and used it as a platform to leap even higher.

The ogre’s eye widened when it finally noticed Karath in the air.

“Too late, you bastard!”

Crack!

Karath drove the spear through the creature’s open mouth.

The sharpened Horn Boar horn at its point pierced the back of the ogre’s throat and tore a new opening through its neck.

That was how Garthon had killed an ogre.

After the monster slaughtered four orc warriors who charged it and raised its head to roar, Garthon had attacked unexpectedly and driven a spear through its open mouth.

Karath had known the method from the beginning.

There were two reasons he had not attempted it earlier.

The first was that Karath had spent the entire battle attracting the monster’s attention and guiding it from trap to trap.

The ogre constantly checked his position.

The second reason was far more important.

This technique normally ended in mutual destruction.

The ogre stood almost four meters tall.

To drive a spear into its mouth, an orc had to leap with every ounce of strength, often using another object or warrior as a platform.

That left the attacker completely exposed.

A hole in the throat was not enough to kill the monster instantly unless the entire neck was severed.

Garthon had pierced the ogre’s throat, only for the creature to seize him and crush every bone in his body before dying.

That was why Karath had insisted upon the exhausting battle of attrition.

Everything had been done to create this single moment.

“Hup!”

The instant the spear passed through the ogre’s neck, Karath planted his left hand on its shoulder.

He launched himself away using the strength of that arm like someone swinging from a bar with one hand.

“GRUUUAAAA...”

Blood erupted from the ogre’s mouth as it released a sound somewhere between a scream, groan, and roar.

The spray covered Karath’s face.

Whoosh!

The ogre’s arm passed beneath his feet immediately after he swung away.

Had Karath moved a fraction of a second later, or had the ogre reacted a fraction faster, the strike might have destroyed the lower half of his body.

The monster had missed its final chance.

“Hup!”

Using the ogre’s shoulder, Karath swung behind it.

He seized the spear shaft protruding from the back of its neck, broke it away, and gripped the sharpened horn.

“One plus one, you bastard!”

Karath drove the horn into the existing wound and tore the opening wider.

Then he jumped from the ogre’s back.

“GRUUUAAAA...”

Air escaped through the hole behind its neck whenever it attempted to roar.

The monster began thrashing in a final frenzy.

“Everyone, withdraw!”

Krog had understood the situation the moment Karath pierced the creature’s throat.

The warriors were already retreating.

“GRUUUAAA...”

The ogre continued releasing empty, breathless cries and smashed several trees during its final struggle.

Then its body collapsed.

The Bloodclaw Tribe had killed an ogre without losing a single warrior.

“Rokta!”

The moment Karath confirmed its death, his face still covered in blood from the creature’s throat, orc blood overwhelmed him and a roar escaped his mouth.

“Ogar!”

Every warrior who participated in the battle answered his cry.