Chapter 71-80 A Half-Finished Mage (Patreon)

Chapter 71

A Half-Finished Mage

Karath soon discovered that his fear of having created an astonishing magical genius had been unnecessary.

Kairin truly possessed exceptional talent for manipulating mana. Otherwise, she could never have become a shaman under such primitive teaching conditions.

However, after observing her for several days and comparing their progress, Karath discovered that his own mana absorption efficiency was now higher.

Kairin was only superior to Karath when he had first begun learning magic.

That was understandable.

She had already spent roughly seven years manipulating mana as the village shaman.

Compared with Karath after he survived using the mana stone, however, Kairin absorbed a smaller amount with each breath.

Even so, her progress remained impressive.

After only one week, her mana reserves had grown enough for her to cast First Circle magic freely.

The real problem lay elsewhere.

“Listen carefully. A Second Circle spell combines the First Circle spells Fire and Wind. Begin by imagining Fire, then use the same amount of mana required for that pattern. Halfway through, twist the structure like this, divert approximately half the mana used for Fire, and create the Wind pattern...”

“What does any of that mean?”

The longer Karath explained Second Circle magic, the stranger Kairin’s expression became.

There it was.

Her ability to manipulate mana rivalled Karath’s, but she possessed a fundamental weakness.

She did not understand the principles of magic.

Damn it.

First Circle magic had been easy enough because it only required the creation of a single pattern.

Her natural mana control was better than Karath’s had been at the beginning, so she could reproduce those simple structures without much difficulty.

The problems emerged when they advanced to the Second Circle.

Combining multiple patterns and calculating how much mana needed to be distributed during each stage of the process demanded a level of thought far beyond someone raised in a primitive society.

So much for a genius sorceress.

Karath wanted to curse his own imagination from the first day he taught her.

This was not a society where gifted children grew up surrounded by books, mathematics, and formal education.

This was the Grimwood Mountains.

“Haa. Fine. Watch Karath cast Fire Arrow and remember how the pattern changes.”

Karath changed his teaching method.

First, he drew a rough diagram of the mana structures on the ground.

Then he demonstrated the spell himself.

After watching the process dozens of times, Kairin finally managed to reproduce his Fire Arrow exactly.

She was only half a mage.

She could memorise a formula and reproduce it without understanding or adapting it.

The result reminded Karath of half-trained programmers from his former world.

Some attended vocational academies for six months or a year, learned languages such as Java or engines such as Unity, created a few games, applications, or websites for a portfolio, and entered a company.

Karath did not look down upon vocational schools or the people who studied there.

Even if they began that way, those who continued learning independently could eventually become more capable than university graduates.

The opposite was also true.

Someone could graduate from a four-year computer science programme and remain hopelessly incompetent if they never studied properly.

Karath remembered those half-trained programmers because they eventually encountered a limit if they failed to develop their skills.

Someone who could only copy existing code and use what they had been explicitly taught struggled to modify or apply it whenever circumstances changed.

Professional programmers rarely created every line from beginning to end alone.

Sometimes they inherited someone else’s work and maintained it.

Sometimes their unfinished work passed to another person.

Often, several people collaborated on the same system.

If a programmer could not adapt the code to suit the required programme, countless problems followed.

Terrible bugs appeared.

Endless nights of overtime began.

Exactly that kind of disaster would not occur here, but similar limitations would.

Fire Arrow was a simple example.

Karath could adjust its mana consumption and alter the balance of its patterns according to the weather, the distance to the target, and the target’s characteristics.

He could continuously optimise the spell.

Kairin would only be able to cast the exact Fire Arrow Karath taught her.

Its power would vary wildly depending upon the situation and environment.

She would also be incapable of combining patterns to develop original spells, as Karath had done.

He refused to watch a disciple he personally taught become such an incapable mage.

“Imagine that creating water with a First Circle spell requires ten units of mana to fill this clay pot. How much mana would be required to fill five pots?”

Karath therefore began teaching subjects beyond magic.

He had supposedly set out to teach programming and somehow found himself delivering elementary mathematics and science lessons.

Karath no longer cared.

Anyone who spent fifteen years reincarnated in a damned primitive society would eventually become accustomed to beginning from nothing.

From absolutely nothing.

At least Kairin was not untalented.

Her mana control and instinctive sensitivity remained extraordinary.

In those two areas, she might even surpass Karath.

If he could improve her logical thinking and teach her basic mathematics and scientific concepts, she might still develop into an exceptional mage.

Was he being excessively optimistic?

Anyone reincarnated into a primitive society would understand.

Without a positive mindset, nothing could be accomplished.

Everything here began from zero.

Compared with that absolute emptiness, Kairin’s talent was practically a divine blessing.

Karath continued living according to the same daily pattern while teaching her magic.

He woke in the morning and gathered mana.

After stretching and eating breakfast, he entered the warehouse.

There, he alternated between cutting drake bones and exercising.

His mana reserves steadily increased.

As his skill with the improvised saw improved, he also processed the bones more quickly and usually completed the day’s work by the afternoon.

Then he visited Kairin’s house and taught her magic.

After dinner, he returned home and studied the theories of Fourth Circle and higher magic within Renstein’s books.

That simple routine continued for approximately one month.

“F-finally!”

Kaden stared at Karath with an expression that suggested he might cry tears of joy.

His weapon had finally been completed.

As Karath promised himself at the beginning, Kaden’s weapon was the last among all those made for the village warriors.

Ironically, because it was created last, it also possessed the highest quality.

Karath was gifting the best weapon to the warrior who had mocked him for becoming skinny.

What greater proof could there be that Karath was a generous man?

Whoosh!

Whoosh!

Kaden swung the new weapon happily through the air.

It was an enormous battle axe suited to a warrior whose size had earned him the nickname half-ogre.

No other warrior in the settlement could have wielded it properly.

“Oh! That weapon fits Kaden perfectly!”

“Krahahaha! Listen to the wind roar!”

The warriors and women watching Kaden swing the axe released cries of admiration.

“Krahahaha! With this weapon, even an ogre is no match for Kaden!”

Apparently delighted by the absurd weapon, Kaden immediately began speaking nonsense.

“Kaden would be no match for the ogre. It seems we will need to dispose of another corpse soon.”

As always, Krog immediately corrected him.

However, envy filled Krog’s eyes while he stared at the axe.

He clearly wanted it.

Karath silently warned him not to try.

With Krog’s strength, he would not swing that weapon.

The weapon would swing him.

“Krog, yours is already useful. Do not worry. Karath also plans to improve it soon.”

Speaking honestly might damage the pride of an orc warrior, so Karath offered a more tactful answer.

It was not even a lie.

He truly intended to upgrade Krog’s weapon.

“You will strengthen mine?”

Krog’s eyes brightened after being distracted by Kaden’s battle axe.

“What about Kaden’s?”

Kaden, who had only just received his gift, immediately became greedy again.

“Kaden must wait. Everything will be done in order.”

Unfortunately for him, his weapon would be last once again.

At that same moment, while Karath presented Kaden with his weapon and the village warriors laughed around them, Jark and Grild were speaking inside the chief’s house.

“Chief, summer is almost over. Should we not select the warriors who will travel there this year?”

Jark now looked almost like a human elder as he addressed Grild with a question that was not truly a question.

“Hmm. You are right. Three years have already passed since we last sent anyone.”

“Yes. This time, what do you think about sending him as well?”

“By him, do you mean Karath?”

“Yes. Karath does not appear interested in any of the young women within the tribe.”

“Unfortunately, that does seem to be the case.”

Grild clicked his tongue in disappointment.

They were discussing the bride search.

It was an event performed every three or four years between orc tribes.

Several warriors travelled to nearby settlements.

The custom existed for two main reasons.

The first was to mix the blood of different tribes.

The orcs of this primitive society knew nothing about DNA or the genetic dangers of close-relative marriage.

Through generations of experience, however, they had learned that repeatedly marrying only within the same tribe caused problems.

The second reason was to maintain knowledge of the locations of neighbouring tribes.

Surviving within the Grimwood Mountains required settlements to remain relatively small.

The larger a village became, the easier it was for monsters to discover it and the lower its chances of survival.

A larger population also required more food.

The amount of prey orcs could hunt remained limited.

If the population grew without restraint, supply could no longer meet demand.

For those reasons, each tribe generally survived on its own.

Even a small tribe occasionally faced a monster it could not defeat.

When that happened, the warriors remained behind to delay the creature while the women and children escaped toward a nearby tribe.

Neighbouring settlements therefore confirmed one another’s locations through bride searches every three or four years.

If a tribe moved because of a monster attack, it also sent someone to inform its neighbours of the new location.

Of course, even the nearest tribes were at least half a day’s journey away, meaning approximately six hours of travel.

“That sounds wise,” Grild said. “Karath is supposed to become chief next year. It would be better for him to marry before then.”

“Heh heh. Grild and Jark are thinking the same thing.”

Thus, without Karath’s opinion being considered in the slightest, his journey to another tribe was decided.

Chapter 72

The Bride Search

“Here, Karath.”

Gerina handed Karath a carefully sharpened bone axe.

The axe he presented to Kaden the previous day had been the final weapon intended for an individual warrior.

Karath could still create more if he forced himself.

Drake bones remained, and shaping them into throwing spears would produce terrifying secondary weapons.

However, using such precious material for disposable spears seemed wasteful.

Karath also had several important uses planned for the remaining bones.

The weapon Gerina now handed him was one of them.

This axe was intended for Karath himself.

“Heh heh heh.”

Karath accepted the bone axe with a sinister smile and returned to the warehouse.

Holding the weapon in his left hand, he manipulated mana and created a spell above his right.

Hummmmm.

Screeeech.

Sharp blades of wind circled his hand and ground against the drake bone.

The sound filled the warehouse.

Despite the unpleasant conditions of sawing bone in the middle of summer, the smile never left Karath’s face.

He was carving a magic circle into his future weapon.

All the weapons he had created for the village warriors had merely been practice for this task.

Magic functioned by arranging mana into specific patterns and producing extraordinary effects.

That raised a simple question.

Why should a mage need to manipulate mana personally every time?

If the pattern itself were engraved into an object, the spell should activate automatically.

The only requirement was that the pattern receive enough mana.

As Karath had mentioned before, mana flowed through everything in the world.

A magic circle could theoretically be drawn upon dirt, stone, or any other material.

The problem was that ordinary earth and stone contained too little mana to power a spell.

A magic circle drawn upon a boulder the size of a house might barely activate a First Circle spell.

Producing Third Circle magic would probably require engraving a circle across an area as large as the entire Bloodclaw settlement.

Drake bone was different.

Mana flowed through it in a dense concentration.

It possessed both high mana conductivity and strong storage capacity.

A single bone axe contained enough mana to support approximately a Second Circle spell.

Karath had no intention of being satisfied with something so weak.

As always, he planned to cheat.

Second Circle magic would not inflict serious damage even upon a troll.

Karath had not originally known how to engrave magic into an object.

One of the earlier books briefly mentioned the process.

Later, he found an advanced volume among Renstein’s works and read it repeatedly during his evening studies.

He had prepared everything before beginning.

He practised cutting.

He studied the theory.

Only after completing those preparations did Karath attempt the engraving.

“Heh heh heh heh.”

Hummmmm.

Screeeech.

His sinister laughter, the whine of the magical saw, and the sharp grinding of bone combined into something suitable for the soundtrack of a horror film.

Karath continued carving the magical pattern for a long time.

“...ath.”

“...arath.”

“Karath!”

A voice behind him finally broke his concentration.

Karath stopped the spell and turned.

“Uncle Goldin? When did you enter?”

“Goldin has been standing here and calling you for some time. What are you doing that makes you look so delighted? You have been laughing continuously.”

Karath had asked the question in surprise, but Goldin looked even more bewildered.

“Ah. Karath will show you later. You will be shocked. Krahahaha.”

“If Karath says it will be shocking, Goldin looks forward to seeing it. Everything you create is already astonishing.”

“Then prepare yourself. Why did you suddenly come to the warehouse?”

“The chief called for us. He told Goldin to bring you to his house.”

“Both Karath and Uncle Goldin?”

“Yes.”

Karath tilted his head, unable to guess the reason.

“Let us go.”

He rose reluctantly.

Leaving the weapon unfinished was disappointing, but Grild would not summon them without cause.

The explanation Karath heard inside the chief’s house, however, left him confused.

“A bride search?”

What kind of ridiculous nonsense was this?

Chapter 73

The Warriorhearts Tribe

“Yes. This time, you will be visiting the Warriorhearts Tribe. Goldin has travelled there twice before, so he will lead the group. Karath must be among those who go.”

Chief Grild kindly pointed toward Uncle Goldin as he explained.

Karath already knew what a bride search was.

Every few years, warriors from outside tribes visited the Bloodclaw settlement, and he had also seen several Bloodclaw warriors leave to visit other villages.

Like the Bloodclaw Tribe, every nearby settlement possessed only a limited number of warriors.

They could not send groups on bride searches whenever they wished, so each tribe organised one roughly every three or four years.

Karath had heard that three or four settlements existed within the surrounding region, although even the nearest was at least half a day away.

The destination changed each time.

The important issue was not the meaning of a bride search.

Karath simply had no intention of marrying an orc.

After living as one for fifteen years, he had become accustomed to their appearance.

That did not mean he found orc women beautiful or attractive.

From his perspective, joining a bride search was an extremely uncomfortable idea.

Then he reconsidered.

Perhaps the journey was not entirely bad.

The name might be awkward, but no law required him to spend the entire visit searching for a wife.

Karath had already considered absorbing neighbouring tribes one by one.

He intended to continue developing the Bloodclaw settlement, and population played an essential role in the growth of civilisation.

He had delayed expansion because increasing the village’s size within the monster-infested forest would attract more dangerous creatures.

Until he found a reliable means of strengthening the tribe, such as iron weapons, expansion remained too risky.

Recently, however, the tribe had acquired drake bones.

They were not iron, but in many ways they were even more useful.

Drake weapons could not be mass-produced like iron equipment.

On the other hand, a larger population would provide more labour.

More workers meant a greater chance of discovering mines or some other material capable of replacing iron.

This journey offered an opportunity to visit another tribe and investigate how integration might be achieved.

“Yes. Karath will go.”

Once his decision was made, he accepted the chief’s proposal willingly.

“Krahahaha! Good. Make sure you find yourself an excellent bride.”

Then the chief began speaking nonsense.

Five days later, Karath left the settlement under Goldin’s guidance.

The delay existed because Karath had requested five days before departure.

He had not needed all that time merely to finish engraving magic into his weapon.

That work required an entire day, but it still ended within a single day.

During the remaining four, Karath created another object.

It was a safeguard intended to protect the settlement if something happened while he was away.

Naturally, Karath and Goldin were not travelling alone.

Crossing at least half a day of the Grimwood Mountains with only two warriors would have been dangerously reckless.

“Ahem. There should be many healthy young women there, right?”

The ogre accompanying them spoke while blushing.

No, it was Kaden.

Karath realised he had been mistaken.

He had believed himself accustomed to orcs, but watching Kaden blush remained genuinely disgusting.

“Kaden, stop blushing. It is revolting.”

Krog, who had also joined the bride search, grimaced as he scolded him.

Karath released an unconscious sigh of relief.

The problem had not been that Kaden was an orc.

The problem was simply Kaden.

“Ahem. Are you not excited, Krog?”

“What is there to be excited about? If Krog finds someone suitable, he will make an effort. If not, then nothing happens.”

“Hmph. A brat who has never experienced romance is pretending to know everything. What about Karath?”

“Karath is not particularly interested.”

When Kaden turned the question toward him, Karath merely shrugged.

“That is understandable. You are both only fifteen. Children would not understand.”

Neither Karath nor Krog supported him, so Kaden abruptly declared victory over an argument no one had been having.

Too tired to respond, Karath looked toward Buddy, who trotted along the forest path beside him.

“Hm?”

The wolf was glaring sharply toward one side.

Karath followed his gaze and examined the vegetation.

Far beyond the undergrowth stood a massive monster.

“An Owlbear.”

Karath whispered after identifying it.

The warriors’ demeanours changed instantly.

Without anyone issuing an order, all of them lowered their bodies, concealed themselves among the bushes, and erased their presence.

An Owlbear was significantly stronger than a troll.

In the past, hunting one required at least seven or perhaps ten orc warriors.

Of course, by the past, Karath meant before his coming-of-age ceremony.

By the tribe’s current standards, it was something else entirely.

“Heh heh. Arriving at the Warriorhearts Tribe empty-handed would have been disappointing. We have found a suitable gift.”

The monster was nothing more than an excellent source of protein.

The warriors silently moved into their positions.

Krog, Goldin, and Kurdan approached from the front.

Karath and Kaden circled toward the rear.

“Haaah!”

Once Goldin confirmed that everyone was ready, he shouted and threw his spear.

Thud!

The weapon, carved from ogre bone, pierced the Owlbear’s flesh and remained embedded.

“GRAAAAAH!”

The enraged monster charged toward Goldin.

“Die!”

Krog and Kurdan emerged from both sides, forming a triangle with Goldin.

Their drake-bone axe and club smashed into the Owlbear’s flanks.

Boom!

Crack!

The two weapons opened enormous wounds along its sides.

Orc warriors already possessed strength far beyond humans.

Now that they wielded weapons capable of surviving their full power without breaking, their destructive ability had multiplied.

The three frontal warriors alternated between attacking and retreating.

They continued accumulating damage while keeping the monster confused.

Their task was to draw its attention through agility and coordinated movement.

While the Owlbear focused completely upon them, Karath and Kaden approached from behind.

“Die!”

Boom!

Karath shattered the back of its skull with a single strike.

“Damn it! That one was supposed to belong to Kaden!”

Kaden had been one step slower and immediately began complaining about losing the final blow.

Karath ignored him.

This was the sensation he had missed.

After spending so long trapped indoors and unable to hunt, his hands had begun itching for battle.

Magic was useful, but directly moving his body offered a different kind of satisfaction.

“It feels good to exercise again.”

A month and a half of consistent training had been gradually restoring his former physique.

His body had been restless.

Breaking the monster’s skull in one attack felt almost too easy, but the brief fight still released much of the stress accumulated during his research.

By the afternoon, after hunting the Owlbear and travelling for several additional hours under Goldin’s guidance, the group reached its destination.

“That is the settlement of the Warriorhearts Tribe.”

The wild forest offered nothing that could truly be called a road.

Their journey had also been delayed by repeated encounters with smaller monsters.

“We nearly arrived too late.”

They had travelled slightly longer than half a day.

A little more delay would have left them in the forest after sunset.

No matter how strong the warriors had become, the forest remained dangerous at night.

Orcs possessed better night vision than humans, but they still could not see clearly in complete darkness.

Nocturnal monsters held an overwhelming advantage.

Lighting a fire at night would have been madness, since it could attract every creature nearby.

Fortunately, Goldin remembered the direction accurately.

As they approached the settlement, they encountered a Warriorhearts patrol.

The warriors guided them through the undergrowth and into the village.

After travelling farther inside, they reached a large house.

“Krahahaha! Visitors from the Bloodclaw Tribe? You even brought such an impressive gift. Your generosity is appreciated.”

Their destination was the home of the Warriorhearts chief.

“It is an honour to meet you. Goldin Bloodclaw has come as the guide from the Bloodclaw Tribe, Chief.”

“Keh heh heh. It has been a long time. Moldin remembers seeing you during an earlier visit. Moldin Warriorhearts is the chief of this settlement.”

While Moldin and Goldin exchanged greetings, Karath quietly examined the house.

The sight brought back old memories.

Not memories from his human life.

This house resembled the home Karath had lived in during his early childhood, one of the first earthen buildings created in the Bloodclaw settlement.

Perhaps this was evidence that the tribes exchanged more than brides every few years.

After constructing the first earthen houses when Karath was eight, the settlement occasionally lost buildings to monsoon rain, monster attacks, or excessively violent children.

Karath treated every collapse as an opportunity.

He had never built a house in his previous life.

The first structures were merely ideas brought into physical form without practical experience.

Each time one required repairs or replacement, Karath improved the design.

He strengthened the walls, developed ventilation, and experimented with increasing the transfer of heat from the ondol.

The tribe’s construction skills improved gradually with every new house.

The building before him was neither an ancient hut nor anything resembling the Bloodclaw Tribe’s recent designs.

It looked like one of their earliest earthen houses.

Warriors who visited Bloodclaw during a previous bride search had probably brought the idea home, and the design eventually spread here.

Perhaps Bloodclaw warriors had introduced it directly during their own travels.

“It is already late,” Moldin said. “Eat well and rest tonight. Since you brought such valuable prey, everyone will enjoy a plentiful meal. Krahahaha!”

Like a proper orc chief, Moldin avoided unnecessary conversation and spoke only about what mattered.

When everyone followed him outside, the Warriorhearts orcs had already gathered for dinner.

The women prepared food from various animals and monsters, including the Owlbear brought as a gift.

“Our neighbours and brothers from the Bloodclaw Tribe brought this prey! They have travelled far and even prepared a gift, so share our food and make certain they rest comfortably!”

“Yes, Chief!”

The meal began after Moldin’s speech.

No alcohol existed within this primitive society.

Everyone simply ate grilled or raw monster meat.

“Ahem. Do the young women keep looking at Kaden?”

Kaden began speaking nonsense during the meal.

Karath looked around, intending to crush him with reality.

To his surprise, the young women of the Warriorhearts Tribe were indeed glancing toward Kaden.

Several stared openly.

Then Karath understood.

Among orcs, masculine beauty depended upon the size of a warrior’s body and the brutality of his face.

Kaden possessed the largest physique and most fearsome appearance in the Bloodclaw Tribe.

By orc standards, he was their most handsome man.

Because Krog and Karath mocked him regularly, and because Karath overshadowed him within their own settlement, that fact was easy to forget.

Fortunately, Karath himself had not transformed into something similar.

He had grown into a handsome warrior with the same wild features he possessed during childhood.

That was Karath’s personal judgement.

To other orcs, he probably looked slightly delicate.

Ironically, his reputation as the village’s strongest warrior and future chief created a contrasting appeal.

His appearance made the unmarried women want to protect him, while his strength made him worthy of admiration.

Karath found none of that pleasing.

It would have been far more useful during his previous life.

The Warriorhearts women continued watching Kaden, whose enormous muscles made him their ideal man.

They were not the only ones interested in the visitors.

“Krahahaha! Thanks to the Bloodclaw brothers, everyone can enjoy such rare meat tonight!”

A large Warriorhearts warrior stood and approached them.

Not only that warrior, but nearly every man in the settlement was watching the Bloodclaw group, especially Kaden.

Thankfully, their gazes contained no romantic affection.

They expressed open competitiveness.

They wanted to test themselves against a powerful warrior.

Karath appeared to have been excluded from that interest.

“This one is Dagon, warrior of the Warriorhearts Tribe. May this impressive brother share his name?”

The broad warrior approached with an easy laugh and addressed Kaden.

“Kaden, warrior of the Bloodclaw Tribe.”

Kaden introduced himself with an unusually solemn expression.

“Krahahaha! Judging from your build, Brother Kaden must be an exceptional warrior. Or does the Bloodclaw Tribe contain many warriors stronger than you?”

“Ahem. Kaden is the warrior with the greatest physical strength in the Bloodclaw Tribe.”

After giving that answer, Kaden glanced toward Karath.

Orcs who considered themselves descendants of warriors disliked lying by nature.

Kaden had apparently chosen his words carefully so he could tell the truth while still sounding impressive.

Karath felt more surprise than amusement.

The half-ogre had finally used his brain.

The attention of the Warriorhearts women appeared to be accelerating his intellectual development.

“Krahahaha! As expected. Would Brother Kaden grant Dagon the opportunity to speak with his body? It is already late, so tomorrow morning would be best.”

“Krahahaha! Kaden gladly welcomes such a conversation!”

Kaden accepted with a booming laugh.

“Krahahaha! Tomorrow morning will be enjoyable. For tonight, let us eat! To the friendship between Warriorhearts and Bloodclaw, and so we never forget the sacrifice made by the Bloodclaw warriors!”

Dagon shouted happily after arranging the duel.

Something about his final words sounded strange.

“What sacrifice by Bloodclaw warriors?”

Kaden noticed it as well and asked.

“The monster brought by the Bloodclaw brothers was an Owlbear. Killing such a creature normally requires seven or eight warriors. There are only five of you. It would also be impossible to kill it near your settlement and drag it here, since travelling from Bloodclaw takes more than half a day even without carrying anything.”

Karath raised his eyebrows.

Dagon explained his reasoning with surprising logic for an orc.

“You must have encountered the creature during your journey. Since only five brothers arrived, some warriors must have died during the hunt. You chose not to mention it because you did not want us to feel burdened, but Dagon understands and honours your feelings.”

Dagon’s explanation revealed that he was unusually intelligent.

He looked close to Kaden’s age, yet he had approached as the representative of the warriors.

Combined with his prominent build and apparent intelligence, Karath suspected Dagon might be the future chief of the Warriorhearts Tribe.

“We simply killed it with the five of us,” Kaden said.

Unfortunately, Kaden possessed no reason to consider any of that and casually stated the truth.

“Krahahaha! Brother Kaden does not need to hide the sacrifice for our sake. The Warriorhearts Tribe understands how difficult an Owlbear is to kill.”

“Difficult? What are you talking about? Karath struck its head with that axe and it died.”

Once again, Kaden failed to understand Dagon’s intention.

He pointed toward the bone axe hanging at Karath’s side.

Silence descended over the Warriorhearts Tribe in the middle of their cheerful meal.

Karath covered his forehead and sighed.

Chapter 74

Too Weak to Understand

The Warriorhearts orcs stared at Kaden.

Dagon looked from him to Karath’s axe, then toward the enormous Owlbear carcass being divided among the tribe.

The explanation had sounded too simple.

An Owlbear was a monster that normally required numerous warriors and carried a significant risk of casualties.

Kaden had just claimed that five travellers encountered one during their journey and killed it without difficulty.

More absurdly, he said Karath ended the battle with a single strike to the skull.

The silence spread as everyone attempted to decide whether Kaden was joking, boasting, or insulting their intelligence.

Kaden merely looked confused.

He had told the truth.

Karath understood that this visit had already begun revealing the difference between the Bloodclaw Tribe and its neighbours.

To the Bloodclaw warriors, the Owlbear had become little more than suitable prey and a valuable travel gift.

To the Warriorhearts Tribe, it remained a terrifying monster that demanded the strength and sacrifice of many warriors.

The reason was not that Bloodclaw orcs had suddenly become physically superior.

The tribes probably possessed similar natural strength.

The true difference lay in weapons, tactics, training, and the accumulated changes Karath had introduced over fifteen years.

The Warriorhearts warriors still viewed combat according to the old rules of the forest.

A powerful monster required more bodies.

A stronger enemy demanded greater courage and greater sacrifice.

The Bloodclaw Tribe had learned to approach the same problem differently.

They divided roles.

They surrounded enemies.

They drew attention, attacked from blind spots, and trusted commands.

Most importantly, they wielded weapons capable of surviving the full strength of an orc warrior.

The Owlbear had not become weaker.

The Bloodclaw Tribe had become stronger.

Dagon’s disbelief offered Karath his first clear measurement of that progress from an outsider’s perspective.

Within his own village, every improvement had occurred gradually.

Karath watched the tribe move from stone and crude bone to ogre weapons, then from ogre bone to drake equipment.

The warriors learned numbers, maps, formations, and planned hunts one lesson at a time.

Because Karath experienced each step, the final result felt natural.

To someone seeing them after years apart, the difference was overwhelming.

This was exactly why visiting another tribe mattered.

Karath needed to understand the present condition of neighbouring settlements before considering integration.

He could not assume they possessed the same knowledge, organisation, or military strength as Bloodclaw.

The early earthen house had already shown that ideas spread between tribes, but imperfectly and slowly.

The Warriorhearts had copied a primitive version of Bloodclaw construction.

They had not inherited the later improvements to ventilation, wall strength, or ondol efficiency.

The same would probably be true of every other innovation.

Karath glanced around the settlement.

The buildings were scattered without any obvious plan.

There was no visible drainage system, organised warehouse, stone wall, or protected well comparable to Bloodclaw’s.

Weapons remained primitive.

Several warriors carried stone axes and clubs reinforced with ordinary monster bone.

None possessed anything resembling drake equipment.

Their food preparation, movement, and village organisation all reminded Karath of the Bloodclaw Tribe years earlier.

That comparison produced two opposing emotions.

The first was pride.

His family had advanced farther than he realised.

The second was responsibility.

If the Warriorhearts Tribe represented the surrounding settlements, then countless orcs still lived beneath the same dangers Bloodclaw had gradually escaped.

Children probably died from contaminated water and cold ground.

Hunters were likely lost because no one mapped the forest.

Warriors probably sacrificed themselves against monsters that could have been defeated through traps and coordination.

Karath had once focused only upon protecting his own tribe.

The wider world now stood before him.

Absorbing neighbouring settlements would not merely increase labour and population.

It could save lives.

Naturally, integration would not be simple.

Each tribe possessed its own chief, traditions, pride, and internal relationships.

Approaching them with commands would create resistance.

Orcs respected strength, but forcing submission through violence would waste the very population Karath wanted to preserve.

He needed to understand what they desired and what they feared.

The bride search offered an opening.

It created a socially accepted reason for warriors to visit, eat together, test strength, exchange information, and form relationships.

Karath had no interest in finding a wife.

He was increasingly interested in everything else the custom made possible.

Dagon finally broke the silence.

“Brother Kaden means that Karath killed the Owlbear with one strike?”

“Yes.”

Kaden nodded without hesitation.

Dagon looked directly at Karath.

“You struck it once?”

“After the others wounded and distracted it.”

Karath answered accurately.

There was no need to pretend he had fought alone.

Krog, Goldin, and Kurdan created the opening.

Kaden approached alongside him.

Karath merely reached the skull first.

Dagon’s expression shifted slightly at the mention of cooperation.

“How many warriors attacked it at the same time?”

“Five.”

“And none were injured?”

“No.”

Another wave of murmuring spread through the settlement.

The Warriorhearts warriors looked toward the Owlbear again.

Some now focused on the deep wounds along its flanks, marks produced by the drake-bone axe and club.

Their earlier attention had been directed toward the visitors’ physiques.

Now their eyes moved to the unfamiliar weapons.

Dagon pointed toward Karath’s axe.

“Is that weapon made from bone?”

“Drake bone.”

The murmuring stopped.

Even Moldin, who had been eating beside the other elders, turned sharply.

“A drake?” the chief asked.

“Yes.”

“You found a drake corpse?”

“Kaden thought Karath was going to say we killed it,” Kaden muttered.

Karath ignored him.

“The Bloodclaw Tribe hunted one.”

This time, no one spoke.

The Owlbear claim had strained their belief.

The death of a drake shattered it completely.

To the Warriorhearts Tribe, a drake was probably not prey.

It was a natural disaster.

Karath recognised the same suffocating fear he once felt when the creature appeared near his home.

Moldin slowly rose.

“You are saying the Bloodclaw Tribe killed a drake?”

“Yes.”

“How many warriors died?”

“None.”

The answer sounded impossible even to Karath when spoken so plainly.

The tribe had come close to losing several warriors, and Karath himself nearly died.

Still, no one had been killed.

Moldin studied Goldin, perhaps searching for confirmation that this was not the boasting of young warriors.

Goldin nodded.

“The entire tribe prepared the hunt. Krog led the warriors. Karath delivered the final attack.”

Moldin’s gaze moved toward Krog.

The fifteen-year-old stood quietly beside the others.

Then the chief looked back at Karath.

The young orc appeared less physically imposing than Kaden and was younger than most warriors present.

Yet he carried a drake-bone axe and had reportedly killed both an Owlbear and a drake.

The contradiction unsettled them.

Warriorhearts judged strength primarily through visible muscle and scars.

Karath did not fit the image their instincts expected.

Dagon’s competitive gaze sharpened.

Until then, he had wanted to fight Kaden because Kaden looked like the strongest visitor.

Now he was beginning to understand why Kaden had carefully called himself the strongest only in physical strength.

The Bloodclaw warriors had not excluded Karath from their earlier conversation because he was weak.

They treated his strength as something already understood.

Kaden noticed the shift in attention.

“Karath is stronger in fighting technique,” he admitted reluctantly. “But Kaden still has more strength.”

Krog laughed.

“Kaden needs to keep repeating that part so everyone remembers.”

“It is important!”

The familiar argument eased some of the tension.

Several Warriorhearts orcs laughed uncertainly.

Dagon did not.

He continued staring at Karath with growing interest.

“Then tomorrow morning, after Dagon speaks with Brother Kaden through combat, perhaps Karath will also grant him a match.”

Before Karath could answer, Kaden objected.

“Dagon challenged Kaden first.”

“Dagon can fight both.”

“You will be too injured after Kaden.”

“Then Karath can fight first.”

“That is worse!”

The two began arguing over the order as though victory were already certain.

Karath sighed again.

This was supposed to be a bride search.

Instead, the evening had transformed into negotiations over who would receive the privilege of being beaten first.

Still, the challenge could become useful.

A controlled match would reveal the combat ability of Warriorhearts warriors.

It would also demonstrate Bloodclaw’s strength without requiring hostility.

Orcs understood physical proof more readily than lengthy explanations.

Karath looked toward Dagon.

The warrior possessed a strong body and enough intelligence to analyse the Owlbear’s circumstances logically.

If he truly was the future chief, building a relationship with him would matter.

“Karath accepts.”

Dagon’s grin widened.

“Krahahaha! Excellent!”

Kaden looked betrayed.

“You were supposed to let Kaden fight first!”

“The order can be decided tomorrow.”

Karath had little interest in the argument.

His thoughts had already moved beyond the duel.

The Warriorhearts Tribe was weaker than he expected.

Not because its people lacked courage or potential.

They simply lacked the knowledge and resources that had transformed Bloodclaw.

That weakness made them vulnerable.

It also made cooperation possible.

Karath had arrived believing he would merely observe another tribe and consider future integration.

By the end of the first evening, he had begun seeing something larger.

The systems developed within Bloodclaw could spread.

Construction, sanitation, maps, numbers, tactics, stronger weapons, and eventually magic did not need to remain confined to one settlement.

The question was no longer whether Karath could strengthen neighbouring tribes.

The question was how to do so without losing control of the future he intended to build.

For now, he would begin with tomorrow’s fight.

Chapter 75

A Lie No One Could Believe

Karath could not entirely blame Kaden.

Orcs disliked lying by nature.

Defeating an Owlbear with only five warriors was also something any orc would be proud of, so Kaden had no reason to conceal it.

Karath’s lingering sensibilities from Earth merely made him uncomfortable that the cheerful gathering had suddenly fallen into an awkward silence.

“A-ahem. Are you saying the Owlbear was killed not with that enormous weapon Brother Kaden carries, but with the weapon used by that rather small... no, ordinary-looking brother over there?”

Dagon looked almost pitiful as he struggled to choose words that would not offend visitors from a neighbouring tribe.

“That is correct!”

Kaden, who had abandoned all sense of tact long ago, noticed none of that effort.

“Would such a small weapon not break if used against an Owlbear?”

“Krahahaha! There is no need to worry about that. Every weapon we carry is made from drake bone!”

Kaden laughed proudly and brought the enormous bone axe from his back around to the front.

“This is Kaden’s weapon, made from the bones of a drake.”

“Oh. It certainly looks durable. But what exactly is this drake you keep mentioning?”

“A lizard-shaped monster much larger than an ogre.”

“Much larger than an ogre?”

Dagon’s face tightened slightly.

“That is right! It was an incredible monster that even breathed fire!”

The more Kaden explained, the deeper Dagon’s frown became.

“Then Brother Kaden is claiming that the warriors of the Bloodclaw Tribe hunted this monster, one far larger and more terrifying than an ogre, which could also breathe fire?”

“Krahahaha! Exactly! Karath over there used shamanic power to open an enormous hole in its head!”

Kaden pointed toward Karath while shouting with unbearable pride.

Silence deepened across the gathering.

The Warriorhearts tribespeople who had initially watched the visitors with curiosity and goodwill now wore expressions filled with disbelief.

“Let Dagon understand this. That brother killed both the Owlbear and this creature called a drake?”

“That is correct.”

“Then perhaps the wolf following him is a Giant Wolf as well?”

“Oh. How did you know?”

Dagon had clearly been testing him with sarcasm, but honest Kaden simply told him the truth.

“This is absurd. Dagon did not realise the Bloodclaw Tribe had become such a place.”

The honesty did not reach him as honesty.

The friendliness on Dagon’s face had gradually been replaced by displeasure.

“What do you mean by such a place?”

Kaden finally seemed to notice the atmosphere and frowned slightly.

It was only a slight frown by orc standards.

Had Arnold encountered such a face in a dark alley, he would probably have wet himself.

“You expect Dagon to believe that five warriors killed an Owlbear, and that this ordinary-looking brother killed a monster larger than an ogre? Now that Dagon considers it, perhaps you did not hunt the Owlbear at all. Perhaps you merely found its corpse.”

Dagon did not retreat before Kaden’s intimidating expression.

Like a proper warrior, he said exactly what he thought.

Unfortunately, what he thought was not pleasant to hear.

Kaden’s expression darkened.

So did Krog’s, Kurdan’s, and Goldin’s.

“Wait.”

Before any of them could speak and make the situation worse, Karath stepped forward.

Every orc in the settlement looked toward him as tension spread through the village.

“Kaden told the truth. Whether the Warriorhearts Tribe believes him is its own choice. In any case, will the truth not become obvious tomorrow morning?”

Karath spoke without hesitation.

Had he been someone who became frightened merely because a crowd stared at him, he would never have changed the Bloodclaw Tribe in the first place.

“Hmm. Now Dagon understands. It appears Brother Karath is the reason the Bloodclaw Tribe has become this way.”

Dagon responded with a strange observation.

“You claim Brother Karath killed the Owlbear, and you also claim he killed this drake. Is that not laughable?”

Dagon had apparently decided that Karath was a liar.

To orcs, who considered themselves descendants of warriors, being called a liar was among the most disgraceful insults imaginable.

Karath did not care much.

The matter would be settled tomorrow.

“You can confirm it with your own eyes in the morning.”

“It seems everyone has eaten enough. Bloodclaw will retire first. We will meet again tomorrow.”

Karath led the visibly dissatisfied Bloodclaw warriors toward the earthen house Moldin had provided.

Buddy, who had not finished eating, looked regretfully at the remaining meat before following him.

“Damn it!”

The moment they entered the house, Kaden released a furious roar.

He clenched his fist as though he wanted to strike the wall.

He stopped himself only because he knew the earthen structure would collapse if he did.

Kaden had once destroyed the wall of his own home while playing.

“Karath, why do these brothers call us liars when Kaden only told them the truth?”

His face remained filled with anger.

Kurdan and Goldin looked equally confused.

Only Krog seemed to understand part of the problem.

“When someone hears that another person accomplished something they cannot do, their first reaction is often disbelief. It is even harder to believe when they did not witness it themselves.”

The situation was unpleasant, but understandable.

In a primitive society, personal experience formed most of what people considered knowledge.

The Warriorhearts orcs lived inside a closed community that shared only its own experiences.

They were frogs trapped inside a well.

Without Karath, the Bloodclaw Tribe might have remained no different.

Understanding that did not make the insult less irritating.

“So tomorrow, we show them that we were not lying.”

The bride search existed to find women from a neighbouring tribe who might become wives.

For an orc warrior, the simplest way to prove himself as a desirable husband was through hunting and combat.

Visitors stayed for several days, fought the local warriors, and hunted beside them to demonstrate their worth.

Since travelling groups usually arrived during the first evening, the first formal event occurred the following morning.

That was why Dagon had initially invited Kaden to speak through their bodies.

Karath had originally intended to participate only moderately because he had no desire to attract an orc bride.

His mind had changed.

If these orcs were frogs inside a well, he would personally show them how frightening the world outside could be.

A frog struck enough times would surely learn something.

The following morning, a cold atmosphere surrounded the open ground of the Warriorhearts settlement.

Under normal circumstances, this would have been a friendly event conducted in the name of the bride search.

Neither the Bloodclaw warriors nor the Warriorhearts tribespeople appeared particularly cheerful.

Still, the orcs deserved some respect.

Even though they believed their guests were liars, none shouted insults or jeered.

Karath had no intention of showing mercy because of that.

“Kaden will stand as the first warrior of the Bloodclaw Tribe! Brother Dagon, if you remember last night’s promise, step forward!”

Impatient as always, Kaden moved into the clearing the moment preparations ended.

“Dagon has been waiting!”

Dagon stepped forward immediately.

Like proper orcs, the two skipped petty intimidation and charged directly toward each other.

They did not carry weapons.

If they had, someone would almost certainly have died.

From Karath’s perspective, two enormous idiots striking each other barehanded did not seem much safer.

“Raaagh!”

Dagon roared and drove a full-strength right straight toward Kaden’s face.

Thud!

“Krahahaha! Strike harder!”

Their courageous and exceptionally stupid Kaden happily accepted the punch directly to his face, then immediately counterattacked.

He allowed one strike and returned one.

It was the most brainless fighting method imaginable.

Ridiculously, it worked.

Dagon’s pride prevented him from fighting differently.

He also accepted Kaden’s blows directly and answered in kind.

“Krahahaha! Dagon is a warrior of the Warriorhearts Tribe!”

Thud!

“Krahahaha! That is a fine fist!”

Thud!

They shouted after every exchange and repeatedly drove punches into each other’s faces.

Thud!

“Ghh.”

After seven exchanges, Dagon’s legs finally gave way and he collapsed.

Kaden possessed the greater size, so naturally his endurance and punching power were superior.

Even Karath could not defeat Kaden by fighting in that manner.

Against such a difference in weight, intelligence and strategy were necessary.

Dagon might have been clever by orc standards, but he could not escape the instincts of his race.

“Krahahaha! That was a conversation between bodies that set Kaden’s heart on fire!”

While Karath considered the fight, Kaden helped Dagon back to his feet.

“It has been a long time since Dagon enjoyed such a satisfying conversation. Brother Kaden was exactly as Dagon expected.”

Despite his defeat, Dagon looked delighted.

“Oh!”

“What an incredible brother!”

“He defeated Dagon in only seven punches!”

The watching Warriorhearts orcs shouted in admiration.

At the same time, the way they looked at Karath grew even worse.

The direct and honest contest appeared to have resolved their doubts concerning Kaden and the Bloodclaw Tribe.

Now they simply believed Karath alone was a liar.

“Then Karath should be next.”

That misunderstanding would soon disappear.

Once he broke the next opponent’s skull, everyone would acknowledge the truth.

However, as Karath stepped forward, the Warriorhearts settlement suddenly became chaotic.

For a moment, he wondered whether his movement had caused it.

It had not.

The commotion came from the village entrance.

“Minotaurs are approaching the settlement!”

“M-minotaurs?”

“There are two of them!”

Every orc froze.

A Warriorhearts scout who had missed the morning event came running toward the clearing.

“All warriors, take your weapons and move to the entrance immediately!”

Chief Moldin shouted the instant he heard the report.

Before the order had even finished, the Warriorhearts fighters began moving to prepare for battle.

Karath stood in the clearing, momentarily speechless.

He had stepped forward to correct a misunderstanding and been left like a dog that had lost the bird it was chasing.

This was not the time for such thoughts.

“Minotaurs? There are none near our settlement.”

“That is true. Why is everyone reacting as though they are so dangerous?”

Krog responded to Karath’s quiet comment with equal confusion.

“Dagon, are minotaurs truly that frightening?”

Kaden, apparently believing their physical conversation had made them friends, spoke casually to Dagon.

“Yes! They are more terrifying than the Owlbear you brought!”

Dagon’s legs were still weak from Kaden’s punches, preventing him from immediately following the other warriors.

“Stronger than an Owlbear? How do they compare with an ogre?”

“Damn it! Why do you compare everything with an ogre? Of course they are weaker than one, but at least ten warriors are required to face a single minotaur. There are two of them!”

Dagon explained how terrifying the monsters were.

Karath still found it difficult to feel impressed.

They were weaker than an ogre.

“What? Then they are weak.”

Chapter 77

The Flaming Bone Axe

“Exactly. Why are they making such a commotion?”

The other Bloodclaw warriors beside Karath looked just as puzzled.

After hunting an ogre and then a drake, their standards for what counted as powerful had become thoroughly distorted.

Of course, being weaker than an ogre did not make a minotaur genuinely weak. Dagon had said it was stronger than an Owlbear, so a single clean hit would probably still end an orc’s life.

However, an orc warrior’s existence was already a daily struggle against death.

These were warriors who had once prepared to hunt a drake. There was no chance they would cower before something weaker than an ogre.

Without the mana stone, every one of them might already have crossed into the afterlife.

Then again, perhaps this world had no equivalent of that particular river.

“Damn it. Strange monsters have been appearing more often lately, but Dagon never imagined two minotaurs would attack.”

While the Bloodclaw warriors held their absurd discussion, Dagon muttered to himself and looked back at them.

“Brothers of the Bloodclaw Tribe! We will kill the monsters attacking our settlement. You are guests, so remain inside the village. There is no need for you to fight.”

Once his unsteady legs recovered, Dagon began moving to join the other warriors.

Even while believing Karath to be a liar, he still intended to treat the Bloodclaw group as honoured guests.

That was very much like an orc.

“It looks like those monsters may be difficult for the Warriorhearts warriors to handle alone. We should help them.”

“There are two,” Krog replied after estimating the situation. “Perhaps we should take one and leave the other to them.”

“If this were our settlement, we could handle both. With only five warriors and none of our traps, one should be appropriate.”

The monsters were said to be stronger than an Owlbear but weaker than an ogre.

Fighting both at once without prepared traps would create unnecessary danger.

“Good. Let us help.”

Karath moved toward the main entrance, and the other Bloodclaw warriors followed.

“What are you doing here?”

Dagon shouted urgently when he saw them approach.

“The five of us will take one. Your warriors can deal with the other.”

“What nonsense is that? Dagon told you a single minotaur is difficult even for ten warriors!”

“That is true by your standards. Ah, there they are.”

Two enormous bull-headed monsters emerged from the forest ahead.

They were not as large as ogres, but each stood well above three metres and possessed a grotesquely muscular body.

“We will separate one and kill it.”

Dagon continued saying something beside him, but Karath ignored him.

The Bloodclaw warriors moved immediately, each understanding his role.

Their basic formation remained similar to the one used against the Owlbear.

Goldin stepped forward and threw a spear made from ogre bone.

“MOOOOOO!”

The spear lodged in one minotaur’s chest and swayed as the creature’s eyes turned red.

It charged directly at Goldin.

“Damn it! We will attack the other one!”

“Warriors of Warriorhearts, strike!”

Dagon and Chief Moldin shouted urgently after seeing the Bloodclaw group move first.

Goldin immediately began retreating.

Krog and Kurdan, who had already taken their positions, threw bone spears at the pursuing minotaur and divided its attention.

As the three alternated between attack and evasion, Karath approached unnoticed.

“Hup!”

He swung the bone axe with all his strength and struck the creature’s leg.

Crack!

The drake-bone weapon was absurdly durable, and the women of the Bloodclaw Tribe had sharpened it carefully.

Combined with Karath’s strength, its edge split the minotaur’s hide and buried itself in the flesh beneath.

At the same moment, Karath moved the mana inside his body and sent it into the axe.

BOOM!

Flames exploded from the weapon.

Had the creature ever heard of a flaming bat from a rough neighbourhood in Karath’s former world?

“MOOOOOO!”

When the explosion erupted inside the thick hide and thigh muscles, the enormous minotaur released a deafening cry.

Even a creature of that size struggled to endure such agony.

“This is the power of superior equipment, you bastard.”

This was the first time Karath had used the bone axe he spent an entire day enchanting in actual combat.

The result was deeply satisfying.

He had engraved a modified Fireball into the weapon.

When he struck the drake’s lower jaw with the ogre femur, the sensation had resembled hitting a home run.

Karath had liked that impact.

That was not the only reason he selected Fireball.

The drake’s breath and the faint scorch marks left by earlier Fireballs had shown that drake bone possessed extraordinary resistance to heat.

The axe could endure repeated explosions without suffering meaningful damage.

“What is that?”

“How can an axe strike create fire?”

The Warriorhearts warriors fighting the second minotaur looked over in astonishment when flames erupted from Karath’s weapon.

“Focus!”

“What are you doing? Never look away during battle!”

Chief Moldin and Dagon, who had remained more attentive, shouted and pulled them back to the fight.

Karath needed to finish quickly and assist them.

Dagon and Moldin were technically commanding their warriors, but their instructions were closer to encouragement than strategy.

Their orders amounted to little more than focus, fight, kill, or charge.

If the battle continued that way, several warriors might die even if they eventually defeated the minotaur.

“We will kill this one first! Do not take unnecessary risks. Only delay the other!”

Karath shouted toward the Warriorhearts warriors and charged again.

Unlike the inexperienced locals seeing a magical orc for the first time, the Bloodclaw warriors had already fought beside Karath against the drake.

The flames did not distract them.

They simply continued performing their roles.

The minotaur’s right thigh had been torn and burned, forcing it to limp.

Krog, Goldin, and Kurdan mercilessly harassed the wounded monster.

It had initially fixed its attention on Karath, but the relentless attacks forced it to turn toward the three warriors again.

“Krahahaha! Now it is Kaden’s turn!”

Kaden approached the opposite leg and swung his enormous battle axe into the minotaur’s left thigh.

“MOOOOOO!”

The leg, as thick as a small tree trunk, was split nearly halfway through.

The bone beneath the wound had cracked.

Kaden had produced through muscle and weapon strength alone the kind of damage Karath required magic to achieve.

“Krahahaha!”

As the minotaur groaned and turned to kill Kaden, Karath entered again from the opposite side.

The axe split the creature’s flesh.

BOOM!

Mana entered the weapon, and another explosion erupted.

“Heh heh. Superior equipment really is the best.”

The modified Fireball engraved into the axe used flame, compression, and direction.

Unlike a conventional Third Circle Fireball, the directional element did not make the spell fly.

It merely controlled the direction of the explosion.

That greatly reduced the danger of Karath being caught within his own blast.

The structure still required the calculations and mana of a Third Circle spell, but that no longer mattered.

The engraved magic circle performed the calculations.

The mana naturally flowing through the drake bone supplied roughly one third of the required energy.

Karath had deliberately engraved a spell too powerful to operate using the bone’s mana alone.

Like placing a battery inside a device, the weapon activated only when he supplied the remaining mana.

“MOOOOOO!”

The minotaur screamed as another section of its leg exploded.

It could no longer stand properly.

“Heh heh heh.”

In the past, killing a monster of this level would have required extensive preparation and traps.

Now the Bloodclaw warriors could overwhelm it through equipment alone.

“Damn this pay-to-win equipment!”

Repeatedly thinking about equipment awakened an old memory.

It came from the period when Arnold worked as a developer for one of the largest gaming companies in his former world.

His team had planned a genuinely promising game.

The systems were enjoyable, the content was substantial, and the balance had been carefully designed.

If development continued according to plan, it might have become something special.

“Those damned premium items!”

BOOM!

“Those damned random boxes!”

BOOM!

Then the planning department suddenly demanded paid items.

Later, they ordered the team to create absurdly powerful equipment obtainable through random purchases, items capable of destroying the game’s balance.

The systems collapsed into chaos.

Arnold had worked day and night attempting to repair the balance.

Even that had been tolerable.

What he could not accept came afterward.

“Manipulating the odds? How could you bastards demand that?”

BOOM!

They even wanted the displayed probabilities of paid random draws manipulated.

By that point, Arnold could no longer tell whether he was a game developer or an accomplice to fraud.

He quit the company and endured years of hardship to establish a small independent studio.

“Ah.”

Without noticing, Karath had continued detonating the axe while venting his anger.

The minotaur had already become a ruined mass of flesh.

“It died already.”

Unfortunately, Karath’s resentment had not yet faded.

“Oh. There is another one.”

Fortunately, a second punching bag remained.

“MOOOOOO!”

The minotaur’s expression seemed different from when it had confidently invaded the village.

That was probably Karath’s imagination.

Bull-like eyes naturally appeared somewhat pitiful.

“Good equipment makes everything so easy!”

BOOM!

While the warriors of both tribes distracted the creature, Karath swung his axe into the second target.

Using overpowered equipment truly did make hunting effortless.

However, Karath was completely different from the executives he despised.

Was that hypocrisy?

No.

“Karath made this from beginning to end!”

BOOM!

He had quit a massive company, struggled to keep a tiny independent studio alive, and died from overwork just as he finally completed a major project as its owner.

Then he awakened in this world and began again from the bottom of an impossible primitive society.

After all that, he had created this weapon himself.

It was fundamentally different from purchasing power or obtaining it from a random draw.

“If only those cursed premium items had existed here!”

BOOM!

“Why could they not be useful somewhere like this?”

BOOM!

“Was that even a game? Was it? Answer me!”

BOOM!

Nearly twenty years of accumulated resentment from both lives flowed through his axe.

“Haaaa.”

Once the second punching bag had also become a ruined heap, Karath finally felt refreshed.

The Warriorhearts warriors who had charged courageously against the minotaurs were now staring at him with undisguised fear.

Chapter 78

A Carefully Mad Orc

“What in the ancestors’ names is that?”

Dagon unconsciously muttered while watching Karath attack the minotaur.

Every swing of the bone axe produced an explosion of flame.

That alone was astonishing.

Something else frightened Dagon far more.

“Those damned...”

BOOM!

“You fraudulent...”

BOOM!

Karath shouted words in a language Dagon could not understand while swinging the axe.

Consumed by resentment from his former life, Karath had unconsciously begun cursing in the language of the world where he had once lived.

Dagon knew none of that.

From his perspective, the scene was deeply unnatural.

Karath’s eyes were bloodshot and filled with madness.

He screamed incomprehensible words while fire exploded from his weapon.

The terrifying minotaur could not even defend itself before being reduced to torn flesh.

Even an orc with an intense desire for combat could not avoid feeling fear before such a sight.

The most frightening enemy was not always the one with the most brutal face.

It was the one who had clearly lost his mind.

“Haaaa.”

While Dagon and the Warriorhearts warriors stood stunned, Karath and the Bloodclaw group finally reduced the remaining minotaur to a mangled corpse.

“Ah.”

The mad orc who had been attacking with blazing eyes slowly looked around.

Then he stared directly at Dagon.

The moment their eyes met, Dagon’s body flinched.

So it had not been a lie.

Dagon was not foolish enough to continue believing Karath dishonest after witnessing that battle.

“Brother of the Bloodclaw Tribe, Dagon apologises for yesterday’s disrespect.”

He spoke before Karath could say anything.

Orcs understood honour.

True honour did not mean concealing one’s mistake.

It meant acknowledging the wrong and apologising.

Dagon was certainly not apologising because he feared retaliation from the madman before him.

His legs trembled.

That was merely the lingering effect of Kaden’s punches.

Nothing more.

“We apologise!”

Once Dagon bowed, the other Warriorhearts warriors followed and lowered their heads toward Karath.

“Ah, Karath did not care much, so there is no problem.”

The generously insane warrior smiled lightly, as though their apology concerned nothing important.

“The minotaurs allowed Karath to release all his anger. Krahahaha.”

Cold sweat flowed down the backs of Dagon and the other Warriorhearts warriors.

Had the minotaurs not arrived, would several of them have ended in the same condition?

They should perhaps be grateful that the monsters attacked.

“More importantly, Chief Moldin and Brother Dagon, would you come inside and speak with Karath for a moment?”

“W-what kind of conversation?”

Surely he did not mean another conversation between bodies.

The same thought crossed both Moldin’s and Dagon’s minds.

“There is something important to discuss. This is not the best place, so we should speak inside the chief’s house.”

“Ahem. An important matter. Very well. Let us go inside.”

Moldin recovered quickly enough to maintain the dignity of a chief and moved first.

“Brother Dagon, what are you doing? You should come as well. Krahahaha!”

Karath approached and placed an arm around Dagon’s shoulders.

For reasons Dagon could not understand, he found himself half dragged into the chief’s house.

“What did you wish to discuss?”

Once the three entered, Moldin asked directly, as expected of an orc.

Karath was only half an orc and preferred to guide a conversation gradually.

“When the minotaurs appeared, Karath heard something interesting from Brother Dagon.”

Dagon looked confused.

What had he said?

“He mentioned that strange monsters have been appearing more often near the Warriorhearts settlement.”

“Ah.”

Dagon was surprised that Karath remembered a comment he had muttered in passing.

He had believed Karath was merely insane.

Apparently, he was meticulously insane.

“Strange creatures that were rarely seen before have also been appearing near the Bloodclaw settlement. It seems something within the forest has changed.”

“Ahem. The same has happened to your tribe?”

“Yes. First an ogre appeared, followed by the drake. The drake in particular was a monster far beyond the minotaurs we just killed.”

“Hm.”

Until the previous evening, such a story had been impossible to believe.

After witnessing Karath’s battle, it now possessed considerable credibility.

“Why are you telling Moldin this?”

The chief still did not understand where Karath intended to lead the conversation and asked directly once more.

“Then let the Warriorhearts Tribe join with the Bloodclaw Tribe, Chief Moldin.”

After laying the necessary foundation, Karath began his proposal.

Chapter 79

The Ancestors’ Prophecy

Karath had already begun sensing that something was wrong immediately after the drake hunt.

Until then, he had been too busy facing one terrifying monster after another, first the ogre and then the drake, to think seriously about it.

The ogre they hunted before the drake had been the first one to appear near the settlement in fifteen years, not counting the creature Garthon killed before Karath was born.

Ogres appeared occasionally, so the older Bloodclaw orcs at least knew what they were.

The drake was entirely different.

Not a single member of the tribe had known such a monster existed.

That meant nothing like it had ever appeared in the surrounding region.

Even before the ogre and drake arrived, both the number and strength of the monsters around the Bloodclaw settlement had seemed to increase.

The Grimwood Mountains might have been a paradise for monsters, but they had never been this hellish.

Had the environment always been so dangerous, the Bloodclaw Tribe into which Karath was born would have disappeared long ago.

Karath therefore suspected that something had changed throughout the mountains, although he did not know the cause.

What happened at the Warriorhearts settlement supported that theory.

Bloodclaw was not the only tribe facing monsters that had rarely appeared in the past.

“When you say we should join together, you cannot mean that we should remain neighbours as we are now. Are you asking the Warriorhearts Tribe to move to your settlement?”

Chief Moldin did not look pleased by Karath’s proposal.

Karath had expected that reaction.

He had considered tribal integration for a long time, particularly how to combine tribes while minimising conflict.

Orcs respected strength.

The strongest warrior in a village became its chief.

Karath had occasionally wondered whether he could simply visit another tribe, break its chief’s skull, and absorb everyone under his rule.

The idea contained a fundamental problem.

Orcs valued strength because they believed themselves descendants of warriors.

The most important duty of those descendants was protecting their tribespeople.

The strongest warrior became chief because that warrior was most capable of defending the settlement.

If strength alone allowed an outsider to rule them, then the orcs should have willingly served ogres or drakes.

More importantly, if an outsider appeared and announced that he would rule Bloodclaw, Karath’s first thought would be to break that outsider’s skull, even if the challenger were stronger than him.

Merely demonstrating Bloodclaw’s power by slaughtering the minotaurs would never be enough to unite the tribes.

Trying to force Warriorhearts into submission would only create fiercer resistance.

That was simply the nature of orcs.

Could Karath persuade them through logic instead?

That would take an absurd amount of time.

Even earning the absolute trust of the Bloodclaw Tribe had required years.

Convincing an isolated primitive tribe to follow an outsider through reason alone could take even longer.

Karath had continued thinking until he discovered one method.

It was a method possible precisely because his targets were primitive orcs.

“Chief Moldin, do you know what this weapon is made from?”

Karath held out the bone axe he had used to reduce the minotaurs to ruined flesh.

“You said it was made from the bones of a monster called a drake.”

“That is correct. The drake was even more dangerous than an ogre. Then allow me to ask you something. How do you believe the Bloodclaw Tribe killed such a monster?”

Moldin and Dagon frowned at the riddle.

They seemed to think intensely without finding an answer.

“Ah!”

Dagon suddenly remembered something.

“Brother Kaden said Brother Karath used shamanic power to destroy the drake’s head!”

“Krahahaha! Exactly. Chief Moldin, have you ever seen a shamanic art powerful enough to kill a creature larger than an ogre?”

“No. Moldin has never witnessed such a thing. Are you saying the Bloodclaw Tribe inherited a ritual of that power?”

“Our tribe possessed no such ritual until the ancestors gave it to us.”

“The ancestors gave it to you?”

“Yes. On the day the drake approached our tribe, the spirit of an ancestor appeared before me. The ancestor taught me the shamanic art required to kill the drake, then left me with a prophecy.”

Karath stopped at the most important moment.

Moldin and Dagon swallowed dryly and stared at him.

“Soon, a calamity will descend upon this forest, placing all our people in danger!”

He suddenly raised his voice after the silence, drawing them deeper into his performance.

“The ancestor commanded me to gather our people so that we could prepare for that calamity together.”

Karath lowered his voice to a solemn whisper, forcing them to focus upon every word.

“Ah...”

Moldin and Dagon looked deeply shaken.

There was only one way to persuade and unite primitive orc tribes quickly.

Karath would invoke the ancestors they worshipped.

The story would never have worked the previous evening, when the Warriorhearts orcs considered him a liar.

Today was different.

The arrival of the minotaurs had allowed Karath to demonstrate his power spectacularly.

Still, a successful persuasion required certainty.

Karath’s experience running a company had taught him that much.

A mediocre presentation might appear successful at the time, only to receive a polite rejection later.

“Hup.”

Hummmmm.

Karath manipulated the mana circling his heart.

He had spent a considerable amount during his furious assault against the minotaurs, but recovered a little on the way to the chief’s house.

Whoooosh.

A powerful wind began swirling around him.

The spell possessed no lethal ability and amounted to little more than a powerful fan.

Even so, Dagon’s and Moldin’s already widened eyes grew larger.

They stood inside a primitive earthen house, yet a sudden gale had appeared from nowhere and wrapped itself around Karath.

To primitive tribespeople, few sights could have seemed more mystical.

It was still not enough.

Karath sent mana into the bone axe.

A brilliant sphere of flame formed along its blade.

“Th-that is...”

The eyes of Moldin and Dagon were immediately drawn toward it.

“Haa!”

Karath swung the flaming axe toward the earthen floor.

“Dig.”

He added one final spell.

Karath coughed inwardly.

Wind and Dig were only First and Second Circle spells, and the magic engraved into the axe performed most of its own calculations.

However, Karath had not recovered enough mana after the battle.

Blood rose from inside his body.

He could not show weakness now.

For the sake of a perfect presentation, Karath swallowed the blood and slammed the axe into the ground.

BOOM!

The floor exploded.

The Fireball’s force and the Dig spell carved a crater into the earth.

Dust and soil rose into the gale surrounding Karath, forming a strange curtain around him.

“This is another shamanic art given by the ancestors. It was only through their knowledge and prophecy that Bloodclaw defeated the minotaurs so easily.”

Surrounded by the perfectly arranged spectacle, Karath spoke as though nothing had happened while forcing the blood back down.

“Th-then did you not come here for a bride search?”

Moldin’s shocked question went farther than Karath had intended.

That had not been part of the plan.

Karath concealed his surprise with the shamelessness developed through years of business.

“That is correct, Chief. Several days ago, the spirit of an ancestor from the Warriorhearts Tribe appeared before me. The ancestor warned that danger would soon reach Warriorhearts and commanded me to save its people.”

“It cannot be!”

“The ancestors have not abandoned us!”

Both orcs looked ready to shed tears from gratitude.

“Then let us join together, Chief Moldin. Following the will of the ancestors, we must combine our strength and overcome the coming crisis!”

“Brother Karath is completely correct!”

Until moments ago, Moldin had addressed Karath casually as a chief speaking to a young warrior.

Now he spoke with automatic respect.

Such was the power of primitive faith.

After successfully persuading Moldin, Karath immediately began discussing the relocation.

Monsters could appear during the journey, so they decided to move the women and children in several smaller groups for safety.

The first group would depart the following morning.

It would include Karath and the other four Bloodclaw warriors, five Warriorhearts warriors, and twenty Warriorhearts women and children.

Thirty orcs would travel together.

Dagon was assigned to lead the Warriorhearts advance group.

Chapter 80

The First Tribal Union

What kind of people were these?

To Dagon, travelling beside the Bloodclaw group was a continuous series of surprises.

At the front of the migration line, Brother Krog repeatedly drew strange symbols upon an animal hide.

Curious, Dagon asked Kaden what he was doing.

Kaden called it a map.

It recorded the surrounding terrain according to direction and distance, allowing other orcs to use it to find their way later.

The map of the Bloodclaw settlement even marked the positions of nearby traps.

Because everyone knew where the traps were located, every warrior could avoid or use them.

Dagon could hardly believe such a method existed.

Why had no one in Warriorhearts ever thought of it?

His astonishment did not end there.

Dagon had noticed it during the minotaur battle, but the Bloodclaw warriors fought in ways Warriorhearts had never considered.

As they drew closer to Bloodclaw territory, he discovered the traps Kaden had described scattered throughout the forest.

When the migration group finally reached the Bloodclaw settlement, Dagon’s eyes widened again.

A stone wall surrounded the village.

It was completely different from the nearly useless wooden fence protecting Warriorhearts.

Threatening stakes and spikes had been installed along different sections of the wall to prevent monsters from approaching.

The houses inside also looked subtly different from those of Dagon’s tribe.

“Brother Kaden, what are these channels cut into the ground?”

“Those are called drainage channels, Brother Dagon.”

Like a villager entering a city for the first time, Dagon pointed at everything he saw and asked questions.

“That is a well.”

“Krahahaha! Has Brother Dagon never seen soap?”

“Krahahaha! Kaden already explained that every Bloodclaw warrior carries a weapon made from drake bone.”

Every answer exceeded anything Dagon had imagined.

The greatest shock came when he learned who had created it all.

“Brother Karath made every one of these things?”

“Did he truly receive the knowledge of the ancestors?”

Dagon already believed the claim enough to follow Karath here.

The appearance of the Bloodclaw settlement strengthened that belief beyond measure.

“Oh!”

“Is he truly a messenger sent by the ancestors?”

The Warriorhearts tribespeople within the advance group also began regarding Karath with growing reverence.

Dagon reached a separate conclusion.

He needed to remain near Karath.

That determination did not come entirely from faith.

It came from his responsibility as a potential future chief.

Karath had used the knowledge of the ancestors, or whatever its true source might be, to transform Bloodclaw beyond recognition.

Dagon needed to follow him and learn as much as possible.

Only then could he create a happier and safer life for the people of Warriorhearts.

Five days passed after the migration began.

The journey to Warriorhearts required one day.

Returning with another group required another.

Karath and the warriors had already made the round trip three times.

“Ugh. Only one more journey remains, right?”

Karath stretched after completing the third return.

Approximately fifteen women and children remained within the Warriorhearts settlement, along with around ten warriors, including Chief Moldin.

Some of the warriors had travelled during the second and third groups so they could begin adapting to Bloodclaw in advance.

It was fortunate that Karath had ordered the stone wall built with extra space.

A modest distance remained between the houses and the wall surrounding the settlement.

The nearest earthen houses stood at least five metres away from it.

The gaps between the existing houses were also generous.

By constructing new homes in those spaces, the settlement could accommodate the entire Warriorhearts population without serious difficulty.

“Aunt Gerina! How are the Warriorhearts tribespeople adjusting?”

“Keh heh heh. Everyone was surprised at first, but they are adapting well.”

“That is a relief. They seemed quite confused when they first arrived.”

“They certainly were. One orc even tried to eat the soap.”

“Krahahaha! That caused quite a commotion.”

“Still, they are already becoming skilled at helping build the earthen houses.”

A smile appeared on Karath’s face.

Every time a new Warriorhearts group arrived, its members were immediately assigned to the construction of their future homes.

The Bloodclaw orcs could have built everything for them.

However, the newcomers needed to experience the process repeatedly so they could continue construction themselves later.

Karath had therefore placed them under Gerina, who acted as the leader and work supervisor of the Bloodclaw women.

The Warriorhearts warriors who arrived earlier were accompanying Bloodclaw patrols and hunting groups.

They were learning numbers, maps, traps, and Bloodclaw’s coordinated methods of hunting.

Only one final journey remained before the relocation would be complete.

Karath was considering how to use the newly increased population when a commotion reached him.

“Hm?”

“What is happening?”

The sound came from the main gate.

Karath naturally turned in that direction.

His eyes widened.

Several dozen orcs were approaching the entrance.