Orc Lord

2-37. The Last Raid



“I won’t do it. I won’t teach such a slovenly brat.” A man with long, glossy black hair glared icy daggers. His target was a short and fat man with curly brown hair. To emphasize how serious he was, he snapped his hand fan shut.

“Master Ye, please reconsider! I’m sure Shenyi can grow under your tutelage!” The fat man’s round, furry little ears twitched in a begging motion and he clasped his hands in front of him. His short fluffy tail tried to curl itself between his thick thighs, with no success.

The one called Master Ye folded his arms and tilted his cat-like ears back in irritation, his tail flicking angrily behind him. “My Lord, no, Duke Fa Hassen, your son was late to his lessons three days in a row. Not only that, but he came in still smelling of alcohol and women. It seems clear to me that he has no intention of receiving my tutelage even if I offer it. Give me one reason why I should risk wasting my time again.”

“Please, Master Ye, just give it a few more days! I’ll double your pay, so please!”

The Black Cat Beastman’s dark eyes grew sharp and hostile. “Duke Fa, you have severely misunderstood me. With just a word, I can obtain as much wealth as I desire. Far more precious are my own time,” he glared, “and promising students. It seems your house can offer me neither, so I will be going.”

“Master Ye, wait!” The short man called out, but the scholar ignored him, causing him to tsk under his breath. With a dangerous look in his eyes, he raised two fingers to his mouth and whistled. Ye Surumi halted in surprise when he heard the sound, his sleek black ears turning back automatically. Something about this felt bad.

Just in case, he cast a little spell to protect himself and kept walking.

Meanwhile, just as he’d feared, over a dozen beastmen of various types crawled out of the woodwork--some literally. With well-trained motions, they drove blunted weapons into Master Ye’s stunned figure, only to have it dissolve into smoke. With the dark magic illusion broken, his real form was revealed, beating a hasty retreat into the gardens.

“Don’t let him escape, you fools!” the fat man roared. He needn’t have bothered; the shadow warriors were already chasing after their target.

Surumi was hard to pin down, thanks to his skillful illusions, but he was still a Scholar with limited physical stamina. As long as at least one shadow warrior discovered his true form, they would signal all the others and he would have no choice but to keep running.

For a mere scholar, he escaped quite far: to the border of the town, in fact. It was becoming apparent that he’d had to do this kind of thing before, but that was likely with greater success. The shadow warriors did catch up to him and surround him, and they used their blunted weapons to beat him into a disoriented state where he wouldn’t be able to create proper illusions.

After being beaten to near unconsciousness, Surumi was dragged back to the Duke’s manor. The short man looked quite pleased with himself, standing there boldly with his pudgy arms crossed.

“I’m sorry to be so rough with you, Master Ye, but an educated man like yourself mustn’t be so selfish.”

Surumi drew in a rattling breath and spat out, “You are an eyesore.” Blood dripped from the Scholar’s mouth to the wooden floor planks, but he didn’t appear to care.

Duke Fa nodded at the shadow warriors and they released Surumi’s shoulders, letting him fall to his knees. The Scholar let out a groan of pain but straightened his back with pride and reached into his robes. “If you insist I teach your son, then I have no choice in the matter.”

“Correct,” Fa Hassen grinned maliciously.

“In that case,” the Scholar continued, “this should help quite a lot.”

What he pulled out was a rolled up scroll. The contents couldn’t be discovered until the seal was broken. Master Ye calmly pinched off the wax and started unrolling it.

Duke Fa sneered. “If you had some sagely document you should have used it earlier.”

Surumi nodded. “It’s a teleportation scroll.”

Duke Fa blinked. It took him a moment to slowly start to register those words. “A teleportation scroll?”

“Indeed.” Without flinching, Surumi pushed the last of his Magic Power into the scroll, and the formation drawn onto it emitted a brilliant red light.

“Teleportation?! Quickly! Stop him!”

But it was already too late for that. The flash of light disappeared along with the master Scholar’s figure. In the manor, the shadow warriors quickly hid from their master while he threw a fit.

***

When Surumi’s eyes cleared, he saw nothing but gentle, rolling grasslands surrounding him. Using up his one-time-transport teleportation scroll—an artifact so ancient and rare money couldn’t buy it—had allowed him to escape, but he was quite badly beaten at the time, and he had had very little say in where he ended up. Now that his body was at its limits and his Magic Power was used up, he could do nothing but collapse in exhaustion and hope for the help of a kind stranger.

The next time Surumi opened his eyes, there was an unfamiliar ceiling above him.

I’m alive, at least.

He tried to sit up, but his body was wracked by the pain of dozens of deep bruises and a few fractured bones. He couldn’t breath for a moment, and quickly relaxed himself back on the bed, gasping in pain.

Phew. Surumi reflected on the petty nobleman who’d put him in this state. One doesn’t meet someone so brazen very often. Well, since he failed to kill me, his position is forfeit as soon as I return to Thelma.

Surumi didn’t have the strength to shout, so he just waited while in pain. After an hour or so, someone finally entered into the room. She was a rabbit beastwoman, and she came holding a bowl of fresh water and a clean cloth.

“You’re awake!” The young woman set the bowl down on a bedside table. “Hold on, you had a fever before, so let me check.” She removed the cloth that had already been on his forehead. It had grown warm from his body heat, and the air felt cold without it. The woman put a wrist against his forehead and pulled it back with a smile.

“Seems like it went down a lot while you were sleeping. That’s good.”

The young woman put a fresh damp cloth in place and gave Surumi some water to drink.

“Wait there a moment,” she said and stepped outside. In another minute or so, she returned with another young person who was a wolf beastwoman. The two pulled chairs up to his bedside and the rabbit beastwoman started.

“I’m Niasha, and this is Kirena. We’re farmers. Can you tell us who you are and how you ended up so hurt?”

“My name is Surumi of the Ye family,” he replied courteously. “I am a Scholar. I'm sorry, but I would rather not say how I was injured. Suffice it to say that there is no trouble following me anymore.”

He intentionally left out any details that risked scaring off the simple farmers, but besides that he was honest with them. These two had likely saved his life, after all.

“I don’t know if I trust you yet,” Kirena said bluntly, “but I’ll help look after you until your wounds are healed.”

“I really appreciate your help,” Surumi put on his friendliest smile.

Niasha helped him sit up to drink some water. When she laid him back down, he asked, “Excuse me, where are my robes?” All he’d seen when he was helped up was his bare chest.

“I’m sorry, we had to check you for injuries.” Niasha went to a wicker dresser and opened a little door, pulling out a neatly folded robe. “Would you like us to help you redress?”

“I just wanted to check something,” he said quickly. “There’s no need for that.”

“We saw it all anyway, though,” Kirena said dryly. “And you can relax; we aren’t interested in the male body.”

Surumi blinked and looked between the two of them. “Is that so?” Then they’re Ashtante adherents, most likely. She seems to do well for herself in small villages, somehow. “I really did just want to check the pockets for something, though.”

Niasha handed over the robes, and Surumi fished around for a moment. He pulled out a pair of thin glasses, slightly chipped at one end where the frame was bent, but otherwise undamaged.

“Thank goodness,” he smiled and sighed. Similar to an actual cat, Surumi’s clarity of vision within about half an arm length from his face was close to nil. He couldn’t do any kind of scholarly work without his reading glasses.

“What’s that?” Kirena leaned in and asked.

“They make close things look farther away; smaller and clearer,” he explained patiently.

The wolf beastwoman held out her hand expectantly. Surumi handed over his glasses, and she put them on.

“I’m blind,” she exclaimed dully, quickly handing them back. Surumi chuckled weakly, folded his glasses carefully, and put them back in his robes for protection.

“Why don’t we help you get dressed after all,” Niasha smiled. “We’ll take you to sit outside. The sunlight will help you heal faster.”

“You really don’t have to,” he put on an apprehensive face, but the girls weren’t so easily stopped. Surumi still barely had the strength to move, let alone resist two healthy young farmers. Once he was sitting outside, though, he appreciated their efforts. The sunlight and fresh air felt nice, and seeing lots of people doing simple work and smiling brought his mood up.

This really is a rural village. The population was small and there was very little technology or magic to be seen. Usually, you would only find a village this small near the border. I wonder if I can see the edge from here. By putting in some strength to turn his head, Surumi was met by a wall of tall, thick trees less than a mile from the edge of the village.

For a moment, his blood turned to ice. Then he calmed down.

I’ll only be here for a few days to heal. It’s not like anything will happen so suddenly. My luck isn’t that bad.

Surumi treated his time in the village as a vacation, enjoying himself while resting. He stayed outside until sunset, and the girls helped him out again the next morning. That was all the time he got before things turned even further south.

War Orcs stormed out from the Black Mountain Forest: huge hulking masses of muscle, wearing fur or iron armor, if anything, and wielding crude weapons. They made directly for the village while the villagers panicked. Some found weapons, others hid. Surumi was still too injured to move around on his own. Though his Magic Power was somewhat recovered, his illusions couldn’t hide him long enough for the Orcs to clear out.

The Scholar decided to save his Magic Power for a moment that might determine his life or death and just sat still while hoping to be ignored. From there, he saw the tragedy firsthand.

The Orcs aimed for the women in particular. The men were cut down if they resisted, but some were let go if they tried to run. Old women and little girls were sometimes ignored as well, but the young women were grabbed and scooped up. Some of the stockier ones were toyed with on the spot, but the more elegant ones were more often directly tied up and herded away from the village.

Ye Surumi heard the sound of wood cracking and looked to his side. A trio of War Orcs had smashed open a wine barrel and were sharing the contents. They wiped their mouths roughly with their arms and started to chat in a guttural language he didn’t understand.

“You hearing rumors? Orc Lord Vyra ban slave raiding.”

“This one last, right? We make it good.”

“After, we getting ready for migrate.”

Ye Surumi couldn’t tell what the Orcs were saying, but it was offputting how casually they seemed to treat this event. One noticed him, clearly too weak to run away, and strode over, grabbing him by the hair. It hurt, and he let out a cry of pain, but there was nothing he could do to resist in his current state. Heart beating quickly, he readied a spell, just in case they drew their weapons on him.

“Pretty,” the War Orc spoke more unintelligible words. “Demon-worshippers like her, you think?”

“Idiot. That a man,” another Orc waved his hand dismissively, and the Monster’s grip loosened for a moment. Not enough for Surumi to escape, unfortunately.

“Man? He being so skinny, I is confused.” He thought briefly and called out again, “Lord Vyra like him for play thing, you think?”

“Mud-licker, is you bribe Orc Lord?”

“Hmph. Shouldn’t? I hearing rumor she be with Human, Dwarf, Fomor, but no Beast Person. He good present.”

“You catching him. You using him whatever.”

Surumi wasn’t attacked, but to his dismay, his hands were bound by thick strips of leather. At this point, his magic wouldn’t help him get them off. Maybe he could run away, but escaping with his hands bound felt like it wouldn’t be much good.

The Orc who captured him gave him a push forward. However, since he was still too injured to stand, he just fell face first onto the dirt pathway. He felt his glasses shatter in his inner pocket and dismayed.

The War Orc grumbled something in his strange language and fished a glittering, green, six-sided chip out of a leather pouch at his hip. The chip radiated a small white light, and Surumi’s wounds quickly faded until they weren’t even half as bad. The chip let out a very faint crack sound and the War Orc grumbled, shoving it back in his pouch.

Surumi realized too late that he’d lost his chance to escape, but he had been too stunned by that unknown magic tool that had apparently healed his injuries. He was grabbed by the back of his neck and pulled back to his feet. Soon, he found himself herded with the captured village women. Among them were the two who had helped tend to his wounds. He wanted to say something to them, but the sight of the giant War Orcs standing guard stopped the words in his throat.

The Orcs had their fun in the village, and then they were led into the Black Mountain Forest. Each captive had their bindings tied to a leather rope. The War Orc who claimed them dragged them along through the forest. Some of the women threw fits, refusing to walk or trying to escape, but they were overpowered as if they were children pulling against oxen. A normal Beast Person could kill a War Orc in combat, if they had some skill or luck, but only a top level warrior could compete with them in pure strength.

They walked for hours, and the War Orcs didn’t offer any food or water. Around sunset, they stopped in a Monster village where a huge fire was roaring. Their captors feasted, and Surumi was able to get a little something to eat and drink. After sleeping, the group split roughly in two. The prettier women, along with Niasha and Kirena, went with a group of War Orcs toward the north, while the sturdier women and Ye Surumi were lead by another group heading northwest.

Surumi soon figured out that his group was full of breeders, as evidenced by War Orc and Beastwoman couples frequently disappearing and reappearing, with the women looking noticeably more haggard. A female War Orc even approached Surumi, but the Monster escorting him waved her away. They walked until the sky was dark, slept in the forest, and then continued the next morning with nothing to eat. Surumi watched as the environment changed from short, dense foliage to tall, sparse plant life.

We’ve left Orc territory. Where are they taking us?

It was when the sky was turning orange again that something became visible in the distance. It was a high wall, encompassing what looked like it could be a massive fortress. Surumi’s anxiety built as they came closer and closer to the structure, peaking when they stepped inside. There were thousands of Monsters crawling around: Orcs, War Orcs, High Orcs, Goblins, High Goblins, Fomors, and a handful of variants he didn’t recognize at a glance.

Is this some kind of Monster city?! I had no idea something like this had popped up just a few days from civilization!

In that case, his future was looking quite bleak indeed. Wasn’t he about to be sold off as a sex slave to one of the Monsters living here? Could the group that had split from theirs the other day be headed for another such city?

The War Orc guiding Surumi separated from the group, approaching a War Orc from the city and exchanging a few words. When they parted, even Surumi could identify traces of embarrassment on his captor’s face. Something about the dialects of the two War Orcs had been different, and their styles as well. Surumi’s captor had dark hair braided close to his head, while the city Orcs had hair wound into coils; his captor wore iron and fur, while the city Orcs wore silky green clothes fixed with buttons and strings, and their armor was much more competently made and maintained. Most notably, the city Monsters were wearing shoes, while Surumi’s captor was not.

Surumi’s captor continued to drag him through the city, and he felt like he sometimes received stares that were more viscous than what was warranted for a slave. Mostly, they came from Orcs and High Orcs, but there were also cases that were completely the opposite.

“Hey, does the little kitty boy want a treat?” Surumi’s captor turned and glared at a High Orc woman selling glass bottles full of milk. Surumi was shocked because she had spoken words he could actually understand. “Don’t tell me your mean master won’t buy you anything.” She looked at Surumi’s captor. “He looks tired. Are you thinking of working or selling him in that state? Or are you so poor that you don’t even have a hexagonal sealight to treat him? Well then at least you can buy a little refreshment for just four round sealights. Nobody’s too poor for that, right?”

“Mind your own business, merchant,” his captor growled. Shockingly, he also spoke the Beast Person language.

The War Orc tugged on Surumi’s rope and got them moving again. The cat beastman could only wait a few steps before blurting out, “You could speak this whole time?!”

The War Orc glared over his shoulder and grunted. “Yeah, so?”

Surumi thought the significance was obvious. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because your language is annoying, and I had nothing to say to you.”

This line of questioning was clearly leading nowhere, and the Scholar had a thousand more questions to ask.

“Where are we and what are you going to do with me?”

His captor grunted and shrugged. “I don’t need to tell you that.”

Surumi’s eyes hardened, “Please do it anyway.”

The War Orc looked over his shoulder, then looked forward, “This is the Living City: Babylon, the center of civilization and technology in the Black Mountain Forest. I’m here to offer you to Orc Lord Vyra as a gift so I will have an edge over the rest of my tribesmen who will be migrating here.” He then murmured, “I absolutely have to get a spot as a gladiator. No way will I get stuck as a farmer or a butcher.”

Surumi didn’t know what he meant by “gladiator,” but the overall message was fairly clear. Still, he had to clarify one more thing.

“Is this Orc Lord Vyra a woman?”

His captor nodded, and Surumi’s heart sank. I’m to be a sex slave after all. How I wish I had another teleportation scroll.

Surumi was dragged through the city until a green crystal palace made its appearance. His captor dragged him to the top of the steps where two heavily armored War Orcs were standing guard with massive halberds.

They exchanged a few short words that Surumi wasn’t privy to, and one of the guards went inside for a moment before returning. They simply waited around until a young High Orc man in a nicely made uniform opened the doors. He glanced between Surumi and his captor, lowered his head, and spoke politely in the Beast Person language.

“Lord Vyra will see you now. Please follow me.”

Surumi had seen many noble residences in his life, but the Orc Lord’s castle was by far the strangest. An immense amount of work had been put into the architecture, materials, and furnishings, so that it didn’t lose much value even when it was obviously made via magic. And yet, there were almost no decorations to speak of. The exquisite but naked halls were an extremely disorienting sight.

Soon, Surumi was brought into an equally beautiful and naked throne room, where a giant of a woman sat supreme upon an oversized throne. Surumi noted her size, obvious Orc features, and third eye, and his face paled. This was the first time he had seen a Queen Orc outside of illustrations. She wore a simple but well-made dress and cloak, but was also fully armored. Her tan skin and blood red hair made Surumi naturally picture her on a battlefield, and the contrast was quite jarring when he again saw her sitting docile on her throne.

Surumi’s captor pounded his right fist on his chest in salute, and the Orc Lord smiled.

“Welcome to my crystal palace,” she said so that Surumi could listen in. “I’m the Lord of Babylon, and the Orc Lord, Vyra. Who are you?”

“My Lord, I am Ruthar, from Togar’s Village.”

The Orc Lord lifted her eyes in thought. “Yes, I recall you and your tribesman are to migrate to Babylon in three days’ time. You’re a bit early, Ruthar.”

Ruthar grinned, “That’s because I brought a present for you, my Lord.”

Vyra nodded, “So I heard, but it’s immoral for someone with power over people to accept “gifts.” If it’s truly a gift, I can give you nothing in return for it. Otherwise, if you wish to sell it to me, I will pay in sealights rather than favors, should the product interest me.”

Ruthar looked stunned, then he glanced down at his wilted coin pouch. “I would gladly accept sealights, my Lord.”

The giantess grinned. “Good. Then where is the product?”

Ruthar tugged a bit strongly on Surumi’s rope, causing him to stumble forward and barely remain on his blistered feet. Ruthar plainly ignored him and tried his best to appeal to the giantess.

“I have heard that my Lord is interested in the company of many races, including descendants, but that you have no Beast People. I thought this pretty beastman slave would interest you.”

Vyra frowned, looking between the two men with a complex expression. Finally, she sighed. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but raid slaves were officially banned two days ago. If you insist on holding this man against his will past this point, far from paying you, I will have no choice but to issue a fine.” Ruthar’s face went pale, and the Orc Lord showed sympathy. “However, I thought something like this might happen, so for the next two weeks, a policy is in effect to offer slave traders a severance pay of half the value of their raid slaves. I’m aware your livelihood is deeply tied to this matter. Shall I deliver your severance pay now, or would you prefer to settle the matter with the bank directly?”

Ruthar lowered his head. “I’ll just take it now, thank you.” He glanced at Surumi, “On looks alone, I think I could sell him for three hexagonal sealights. Hey, do you have any magic or combat ability?”

Surumi was startled to be asked such a thing only now. “I know a bit of magic, but I’m a Scholar, so I don’t do much fighting.”

“A Scholar?” The Orc Lord folded her hands and leaned in.

Ruthar beamed, “My Lord, you value intelligence, isn’t that right?” He did some quick calculations in his head. “I think I would have sold him for six-hundred thirty sealights at full price, since he could be employed as an educator.”

“What was your field of study?” Vyra ignored Ruthar and asked Surumi.

“My main areas of expertise are history, literature, etiquette, and politics.” Surumi put a hand to his chest, “But I am a Master Scholar with a well-rounded understanding of most topics. I fundamentally teach royal sons and daughters academics, politics, and the arts.”

Vyra grinned, and said something that stunned him. “Then you can teach me.”

She snapped her fingers and the High Orc man from earlier hurried over, carrying a small leather pouch. “Three-hundred fifteen sealights,” she said, pulling six hexagonal, one pentagonal, and five round sealights out of the pouch for the High Orc to hand to Ruthar, “half of your asking price, as appropriate for your severance pay.”

Ruthar took the money from the High Orc with a stunned expression and was promptly shown the way out. Surumi broke out into a cold sweat when he realized he was now alone with the most dangerous Monster he had ever seen off of a dissection table—or on one, for that matter.

“What’s your name?” he was asked.

“I’m Surumi of the Ye family,” he answered numbly.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she smiled. “If you require it, there are people here who can safely guide you back to your lands. However, they require payment for their services. You don’t possess any of our currency, so you would first need to find some form of employment.” The giantess grinned, and Surumi could only see it as something terrifying. “I happen to have great need of a tutor with your qualifications.”

Something about this felt bad.

“I won’t teach someone who won’t take my lessons seriously,” Surumi said with a tongue that felt a bit numb.

The giantess put on a serious face then, and the pressure Surumi was feeling immediately shot up four-fold.

“I will take it seriously because the fate of my people depends on my ability to rule them properly, yet I have received none of the education the kings and queens of the descendants have had, and thus I have no way to stand with them on equal footing. Surely you can see that this will become a diplomatic crisis.”

Surumi swallowed. “Pardon me for saying so, but I think there is a much more fundamental issue that is likely to be just as serious a problem as long as you want to do politics with descendants.”

“Because I’m not one myself?”

He nodded, clenching his fists hidden in his long sleeves.

“You’re absolutely right.” To his shock, the Orc Lord smiled pleasantly. “Because unlike creatures like Humans and you Beast People, we Monsters haven’t degraded from the forms the Gods originally gave us. In fact, we have only grown stronger.” She folded her hands, resting her chin on them while she leaned forward in her throne. “On top of that, we were lovingly created by not just one god, but by all of them. Even the Lords of Darkness set aside their belligerence to work with the Gods and help make us. Have I said anything wrong?”

Surumi was at a loss for words, caught in feelings of astonishment, confusion, rage, and intrigue. “That is,” his tongue got caught, “no, but…”

The Orc Lord smiled. “Designations are arbitrary. It’s easy to throw something together to get your foot in the door and support you for a short while. But once you’re in, and the opportunity to trade exists, you’ll find that all people really care about is what they stand to gain. So, Surumi of the Ye family, please help me to get my foot in the door and to not simply be used once my value is shown.”


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