[V11C12] Warrior
Translated by Jodas 11: Envoy of the AbyssThe jet-black beast’s head was completely unrecognizable. And yet, Julius knew at once.
“Finn…”
Julius silently clenched his fists.
His emotions had been in complete shambles. He was angry. But he was done wrestling with those emotions. This was a battlefield.
—Smile, Julius. The strongest ones always smile.
“Ku, ku, ku… Why don’t you and I make a little deal, Werewolf?”
Rather than respond, Finn growled angrily.
Julius extended his hand. Ordinarily, he would have liked to do so with a few gold coins in his palm, but he set those aside for now. A gold coin wouldn’t be terribly appealing to a Monster, after all.
Julius had no intentions of entreating Finn with an emotional appeal.
If it were up to Sophie or Roswitha, they might have said something like “Weren’t we friends? Didn’t we spend all that time working together and pushing each other to greater heights?”
Julius, however, was well aware that the wall between their kinds could not be overcome through mere strength of emotions.
“Become my right-hand man, and I will reward you handsomely.”
Establish costs and benefits upfront. Put forth a clear contract. Establish certain rewards. He already had countless forms of collateral prepared to help seal the deal.
(With enough money, power, and promises, I can secure a place for you…… So please come back to us, Finn.)
The wolf’s growling came to a stop.
The Werewolf smiled bitterly, in a very human sort of way.
“…Even after everything that’s happened, you’re still saying those things to me?”
Finn’s voice was just as Julius remembered it.
It made him want to address Finn by his name, just like always. But Finn softly shook his head to the side.
Just as he did back when Julius offered him those gold coins.
“But you know, I’m a Monster. More of a Monster than I think you can imagine.”
Finn lifted his head towards the sky and howled. Julius and Sophie could only stand frozen in shock as the air around them trembled ferociously.
Only Gerald could keep his wits about him, yet he still did not draw his sword.
Finn kicked against the ground with his front paw, leaping at Julius. Under the force of this large beast barreling towards him, Julius crumbled over like a sack of potatoes.
“GRROOOOOWWWWL!”
Finn’s gaping maw clamped on to Julius’ shoulder.
Sophie screamed. Now, finally, Gerald leapt into action. With the hilt of his sword rather than the blade, Gerald struck Finn.
The black Werewolf tumbled across the ground, before quickly getting back to his feet and dashing off into the bushes.
Fallen too her knees, Sophie’s voice trembled.
“Finn, why…… Huh? Wait, Julius, you’re… not hurt?”
“I couldn’t sense any hostility from him, so I held back with my attack… I’m sorry, Julius, are you okay?”
“…Yeah.”
Julius touched his shoulder where Finn bit him. There was no bleeding. It was more like a gentle love-bite than anything else.
As Julius inspected his robe, he noticed something out of place. There was something tucked into the folds of his saliva-soaked robe. Smaller than an acorn, it appeared to be a piece of paper rolled up into a little ball and neatly wrapped in oil-soaked paper.
(I see, so he hid this between his teeth…)
He even used oil paper to prevent it from getting drenched in all the saliva. Not many Monsters would ever think to do something so human.
Julius carefully unwrapped the oil paper and unrolled the balled-up note.
Inside, in Finn’s shaky handwriting, was this message:
‘There’s something important in my room.’
Julius wordlessly showed the note to Sophie and Gerald as well.
Sophie covered her mouth with her hand and whispered.
“Why would he go out of his way to…”
“Kuku… Lots of Monsters have good hearing. He was worried about it getting out.”
Even supposing another Monster did come across this note, it would be hard to imagine any of them understanding its meaning.
My room — that meant the dorm room Finn and Julius shared.
The three of them faced each other and nodded, then all turned to start walking towards the dormitory on the West side of campus.
As it stood, the three of them were on the South side, relatively near to the main gate. They did their best to stick to the shadows as they moved along. However, they weren’t exactly professional hunters. They had little experience concealing themselves from their enemies. Julius and Sophie in particular also had decidedly average physicality. Even the idea of keeping their footsteps quiet was foreign to them.
If anything, it was a miracle that they hadn’t been found until now.
“Hold on.”
Gerald sternly warned them, drawing his sword. He kept his words as brief as possible.
“This one really wants us dead.”
As it approached them so silently, Julius wondered for a second if the scenery in front of them had moved.
With dark, mottled greenish-brown skin and inhumanly-shaped ears on its bald head, what appeared was twice the size of a normal human.
Then, there was its nose. Any human who saw it would be reminded of a pig’s nose, and then immediately recall the name of this Monster.
—An Orc.
This Monster robed itself in animal pelts and carried a massive wooden club in its hands. Considering its immense musculature, one swing from that thing looked like it could easily reduce a human head to paste.
Its face looked like a mix between a human and a pig, but its eyes gave Julius the distinct impression of conscious thought. This was no mere beast.
“Agniol!”
“On it, Young Master!”
Agniol launched a moderately-sized fireball, and shortly afterwards Julius’s shortened incantation produced an arrow of lightning.
He felt a roaring gust of wind. The Orc had swung its club. Just the wave of pressure caused by swinging such a heavy object at such speed was enough to make Julius’ life flash before his eyes.
The fireball and lightning arrow made definite contact with the Orc’s arm. However, it brushed them away with a single swing. Still, it did have some effect. Even if at best it just made the surface of the Orc’s skin tingle for a little bit.
“Get back!”
Gerald shouted as he struck out with his sword. His attack was powerful enough that it would slice any human’s arm clean off. Unfortunately, it left little more than a shallow wound on the Orc’s skin.
“Human.”
The Orc spoke to them. Between its snorting breaths, it spoke in human language.
“Leave the woman with me. Do so, and I will not kill you.”
Sophie shrieked.
Orcs birthed exclusively males. Thus, they reproduced by abducting human women. Just as Harpies abducted human males.
“We’re not giving you Sophie.”
“I see.”
It responded curtly. When it did, it began to show a whole new level of hostility.
Even Julius, though a stranger to warfare, could tell what was happening.
The terror of encountering a strong and intelligent enemy was wholly unlike that of running in to a wild beast. Yet this Orc gave off a strange sensation, as if they had suddenly encountered both types at once.
Technically, Orcs were considered to be Lesser Monsters. Nevertheless, it would be foolish for a human to underestimate them based on that designation.
He would need a spell with a long incantation to take this one down. It seemed unlikely this Monster would allow him enough time.
“Julius… Just go.”
Gerald said as he readied his sword.
Sophie shook, tears in her eyes. She must have been able to imagine the fate that awaited her should this Monster catch her. Julius was terrified as well, to be honest.
He could not stop shaking, envisioning that club rocketing towards him and crushing his head. Having been a drifter once, Julius knew in his bones just how terrifying it could be when you angered someone far stronger than yourself.
(Remember back then! Freeze for one second and they’ll grind you to the bone!)
Julius pointed at the Orc’s face. This was his signal for Agniol to ‘Attack that!’ As instructed, Agniol let loose another fireball. However tough it may have been, a hit to the face risked damaging eyes or other sensitive organs, so the Orc raised an arm to shield its face.
With that brief opening, Julius grabbed Sophie by the hand and started running. His objective: the dorms, just as Finn’s message directed.
“Come on, Sophie!”
“Uu, Euuuuuugghhhhhhhhh”
Stricken by fear of the Monsters, Sophie wept, yet she nonetheless pushed herself to run as hard as she could and keep pace with Julius.
“Don’t worry, Little Sophie! Just do your best! If anything scary shows up, I’ll take care of it for you!”
“Y– Yeeeaahhh, I’ll do my besssttt… I– I’m a S– Shaman, you know! I’m not scared of anything!”
Thankfully, Agniol’s tone-deaf comments seemed to have a positive effect on Sophie this once.
The Orc caught sight of Gerald and swung his club at him. Gerald dodged it, then counterattacked with a slash across the Orc’s stomach. It cut the skin, but not deeply enough.
The moment his attack connected, Gerald leapt backwards. The Orc then swung his club back the way it came — knowing that Gerald would dodge the first attack.
(What tremendous power. I expected this to be all about brute force with a body that big, but it’s just as fast as it is weighty.)
So this was the power of a Monster at full strength, unconstrained by the Crystal Rivets.
It was often said that Lesser Monsters were simple fodder who couldn’t survive in the Crystal Territory living off of scraps.
But now, due to the crystal contamination, the Wedge Tower was flush with mana just like the Crystal Territory was. This, he figured, must have been what they were originally like back in the Old Era.
Gerald assessed the pelts and club the Orc had on him. Generally speaking, Monsters did not rely on tools, but one look at the Greater Monsters told you that statement was far from absolute.
This Orc, likewise, used whatever was available to fashion some rudimentary armor and a weapon.
“I wonder how formidable a warrior you would be… if you only had weapons that suited your strength.”
He couldn’t resist muttering those words thanks to his upbringing as a member of a warlike family on the borderlands.
Gerald disliked fighting. Nevertheless, because he was trained as the grandson of the Sword Saint, he was aware what was effective in such a fight.
The Orc’s attacks were not mere brutish swings of a heavy club. He was reacting to the humans’ movements while staying aware of how he positioned his own body. The basic foundations of martial arts were all here.
The clothing made of layered pelts and whittled wooden club demonstrated the intelligence needed to make a living with limited resources. Yes, this Orc was intelligent.
If only he had the technology and environment to hone his skills; if only he had a longsword or battleaxe; if only he wore metal armor; just how much of a threat could he have become?
“A warrior, you say?”
In between the snorting breaths, he could hear a faint muttering.
The Orc repeated the word “Warrior, warrior” as if ruminating on it, then he spoke softly.
“A good word, that one… Having lost our home, lost our comrades, we could only live the lives of wild beasts. If you asked the Orcs of the past, perhaps there may have been some who called themselves warriors.”
There was a sense of loneliness in those words, as if he had quietly sunk to the bottom of the sea.
At the bottom of the sea, no one would so much as look at you. And it is only when you understand that fact that the loneliness kicks in.
Gerald adjusted his grip on his sword. As he did, he changed his approach to fighting this Orc. He was not hunting a wild beast; he was slaying a rival warrior.
“Let me correct what I said earlier. You are an admirable warrior.”