Orc Lord

A day had passed so a promised meeting was taking place.

“So tell me about the sacrifices,” Vyra said, looking down at Myrtis with a cold expression. They had moved into the palace conference room and were seated at opposite ends of a circular table. The Oni’s environment had greatly improved, but she still sat as if she was in her prison cell; she held her limbs close to her body, and her eyes never rested in one place for very long.

“They are very specific, the requirements Lord Nemeses has for the sacrifices we use: they must be young descendant females who, at the time of the ritual, must be healthy and uninjured.”

So we've started right off with something inconvenient. “That’s oddly specific, isn’t it?”

“If the wrong kind of sacrifice is used, the ritual will fail,” Myrtis murmured apologetically.

The Orc Lord sighed. This is pretty antithetical to my policies… but I'll at least question her properly. “How often do these rituals have to occur?”

“Once every other month is the absolute minimum, but to maintain the best benefits, we try to perform a ritual once every month.”

“And what are the benefits your people receive for doing this?”

“Nemeses’ blessing neutralizes curses--aside from the ones he assigns himself. His curse is far more manageable than the Orc's starvation curse or the Oni’s cannibalism curse.”

“Hm? Cannibalism curse?” Vyra had never bothered to look at Irsha’s status after she evolved, so she didn’t know if she had such a curse. Either way, it was her first time hearing about it.

“After all, the original Onis evolved from Orcs by eating the flesh of their brethren. Therefore, Onis are cursed to crave the flesh of other Orc races. On the other hand, Nemeses’ curse, Demonized, merely compels you to keep fighting once you’ve started, even if it kills you. In this environment, it’s more often an advantage than a disadvantage.”

Vyra blinked and raised her eyebrows. “I think I understand now why your attitude is so different than it was back then.”

Myrtis blushed and lowered her head, “Yes.”

“I have one more question before I come to my final decision. What becomes of the sacrifices?”

“There are three possible outcomes: the sacrifice lives and is given to us to use as we please; she dies, and her remains are thrown to the Demonic Beasts; she becomes a Demon, and Nemeses claims her. They are imprisoned but well-cared-for before the time of the sacrifice. While they wait, they aren’t even made to work.”

The oversized Orc sat with her arms crossed, feet firmly planted, tapping her fingers on her arm. She kept her eyes closed for a moment while she deliberated. Myrtis fidgeted in her seat, casting nervous glances at her.

“Alright,” three orbs calmly opened, “I’m going to get straight to the point. I cannot condone the ritual sacrificing of descendants at this point in time when I’m trying to form amicable relations with them. However, that isn’t to say that we can’t cooperate. If there are people in your tribe who are willing to live here, I can feed them. Those who are not willing will be slaughtered.”

“Before descendants, you would kill Orcs? And you want us to abandon our villages?”

“Choose.”

Myrtis’ whole body shook and she looked down at her kneecaps. She spoke at a barely audible volume, “I will return to my tribe and let them choose for themselves.”

Vyra tilted her head. “So be it.” She made a gesture with her hand and the ritual maiden rose from her chair. She opened the doors to the conference room, and the guard on the other side guided her out of the palace. At the same time, Nerun stepped into the room, and Vyra promptly gave him an order. “Have one of our spies follow her and see what transpires. Also, send mother here; I want to cross-reference whatever information I can.”

Oolga didn’t know much about the demon-worshiping Orcs, but what she did know seemed to corroborate Myrtis’ story. Vyra felt fairly confident that the woman had been answering honestly. She had thought of doing a more thorough interrogation by compelling the Oni to be truthful through law, but it was highly probable that Myrtis was still an “enemy” and would attack as soon as was activated. Once Vyra heard about the Demonized curse, she gave up entirely on that idea.

Oh well. It's not a skill I should depend on anyway. Law is useful for many things; I mustn't waste it where it isn't necessary.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, which was rather a relief. The city Lord was itching to get some of her more mundane work done and out of the way.

I’d like just a few peaceful days to catch up. Please.

***

“How do you like this new home, my child?”

A boy with red-brown hair and whiskers turned around, seeing a magnificent woman floating a few centimeters off the ground. Wind swept past, shaking the endless green plains and making her white dress billow like clouds.

“It’s comfortable here,” the boy answered honestly. “I have a family I love, and we don’t have to hide from each other.”

The woman smiled and gently waved her bright red fan. “That’s good to hear. Our old home hasn’t been so good lately. The cheater keeps moving in, and my descendants don’t love me anymore.” She lifted her heavy black eyelashes, “So I’m thinking about moving to the new place you found.”

The boy stared at the magnificent woman. It would be wonderful to have her near, yet his mouth moved sluggishly. “Is that okay?”

The woman smiled, displaying her charming side. “It will probably be a little rough, but I think that daughter of mine can handle it. I really don’t want to wait anymore. I’ll be with you soon, my child.”

Rigdam shot out of bed, drenched in cold sweat, a terrible headache assaulting him. Oolga stirred next to him and clasped his hand. “What’s wrong?” Her eyes fluttered, heavy with half-dispersed dreams, “I don’t feel any enemies nearby.”

“I saw a vision in my sleep,” he panted.

“That’s called a dream, darling,” Oolga gave his forearm a reassuring pat.

Rigdam reluctantly laid back down and slept for a few more hours. When he woke up in the morning and his head was clear, it became obvious that his divine power had increased. At the same time, he felt a strong new presence in the city and ran off to locate it. He finally found the source and gaped; overnight, a new statue had appeared in the previously empty church building.

***

Vyra stood inside the sealed-off church with a handful of the most knowledgeable people in Babylon. The guards at the doors kept all others outside. Before her was a white marble statue, painted with extreme attention to detail. She ran her hand down the stone goddess and sighed deeply. “What are the odds this will lead to a war with the Beast People?” Vyra asked her Beastman tutor.

Ye Surumi massaged the bridge of his nose. “To be frank, they had this coming. Ashtante worship has been on the decline for nearly a century now. It was only a matter of time before she left to find more devoted followers.”

The Orc Lord turned away from the statue to meet his eyes. “Why would they stop worshipping their ancestor goddess?”

“There were more practical benefits to worshipping the Elves’ ancestor god, Elio. Especially since the current Beastman emperor has been trying to improve relations with the Elves.” The man shook his head helplessly, “The blessing Ashtante gave us was essentially “have many children,” but in the last few decades the Beastman territories have been suffering from overpopulation. They haven’t been able to produce enough food in their territories to feed everyone. In the end, they had to rely on the Elves to supplement their supplies. Ashtante and Elio don’t like each other, and when people had to choose between the god causing them problems and the god who could fix those problems, the choice was obvious.”

Vyra sighed and looked up at the vibrant marble statue, large enough that it would be taller than her even if it weren’t up on a pedestal.

“I want to think that having a matron goddess will help with diplomacy,” Vyra held her head, “but I have a sinking feeling that it will make things harder instead.”

She even went over my head and interfered with the city’s core just to build a statue of herself in our church. Not just any statue, either; a statue serving as a divine link between her sphere of power and this world.

For all intents and purposes, this meant that Ashtante had abandoned her people and come to live in a city of Monsters instead. Only those blessed by her could feel Ashtante's divine power leaking out from the statue, but there was no way to hide that divine aura from those who were blessed. This couldn't be passed off as just a normal statue.

Surumi narrowed his eyes and warned, “If information about this spreads, it’s more likely that her reputation will fall to rock bottom than yours will be raised. She was already the only god with more worshippers outside of her race than inside of it."

"She didn't even try to consult with me first," Vyra complained through a deep sigh. I couldn't even have just one day without an incident.