Chapter 6

4 THE KNIGHT ARMY GENERAL, HOUSTON Houston was the leader of Krassel’s Order of Knights. He had a long and interesting history. Around twenty years prior, Houston had entered his first battle as an apprentice foot soldier. He was only thirteen years old. Sent straight to the front line of battle on his first day in the war, he experienced a bloody defeat. His entire platoon was wiped out, but miraculously, Houston survived. Following that, he fought in countless battles, and within the space of ten years, he became a commander. His first battle as a commander had been a complete disaster. Just getting back alive was like walking through the flames of hell. It was a truly terrible battle. All the officers in charge, from the general to the battalion commander, were either killed or fled the battlefield. With the chain of command changing by the moment, the troops were in a state of complete confusion and turmoil. When around 60 percent of the troops had already been lost, command fell to Houston, then just a lower-ranking troop commander. “There’s nobody left who ranks higher than you.” When his orders were delivered by a combat medic, Houston had been sure it was someone’s idea of a bad joke. But as it transpired, Houston was born for the role. He rallied his troops and managed to withdraw with only minimal losses among the 40 percent of soldiers left standing. Houston had found his calling. It was like he was destined to command a great army. Even though his miraculous safe withdrawal from battle had been more or less a matter of sheer luck… Regardless, this deed won him the respect of his people, and he was assigned the position of Orc Response Force lieutenant. The Orc Response Force mainly fought against the orc-fairy alliance. Five years after Houston had become a lieutenant in this division, the general was killed. Houston automatically succeeded him as general and continued to fight until the war ended. In other words, Houston spent ten years of his life continuously fighting the orcs. Houston devoted his entire being to the war effort. He gathered as much information on orcs as he could and educated himself as much as possible. Many times, he risked his life on the front lines of battle. As a result, he racked up more orc kills than any other human. And so the humans gave him an honorary title. That title was Houston the Pig Slayer. Even after the war, Houston remained on high alert when it came to all things orc related. He was especially fierce whenever he encountered a rogue orc. He would execute them without even listening to what they had to say, his ears deaf to their screams as they pleaded for their lives. Seeing this, the young folk who had become soldiers after the war viewed Houston with equal parts respect and fear. Yet despite his incredible nickname of Pig Slayer, Houston’s feelings about orcs were extremely neutral. He was not prejudiced against them. He did not discriminate against them. He did not hate them. The reasoning for this was that Houston knew orcs. In his ten years of battle, he had become something of an expert on them. After he became a lieutenant, he’d made it his business to learn everything he could about orcs. This was necessary in order to kill them more successfully and to reduce the number of human casualties. During those wartime years, Houston had studied up on orcs until he knew more about them than anyone else. He would observe their movements, read up on their history, and even question orc prisoners of war. Thus, Houston learned. He learned that orcs had their own moral code and customs, known only among themselves, and that they were proud warriors. But Houston never came to admire or even soften his heart toward orcs. No, these beings had slain many of his friends and compatriots. His feelings toward the orcs were dark and complex. But the war was now over, and he respected the orcs enough that he felt no need to bear a grudge. His harsh treatment of the rogue orcs was down to them being the scum of orckind. They refused to abide by even the most basic of orc laws and chose to live in pure selfishness. They intruded into the land of the humans and still refused to respect their rules. Those who could not conform to the laws of society were no better than wild beasts. Even worse, they killed indiscriminately. At any rate, after the war, Houston was promoted to knight and was immediately nominated to be the leader of the Krassel Order of Knights. With Houston at the helm, another war with the orcs seemed an unlikely prospect, at least for many years to come. Even if another war did happen, the plan was to protect Krassel with everything they had. “What’s that? Have you apprehended a suspect in the highway ambush case?” One of his subordinates had come to him with this news out of the blue. “Yes. It appears to be an orc.” “A rogue orc? Didn’t I tell you to just have all the rogue orcs killed?” Houston frowned, displeased by the messenger’s tale. Houston had special permission from the Orc King to execute rogue orcs at will. He would have preferred it if the orcs would step up and do the job themselves, but they had their own set of societal rules. So Houston had no alternative. “Um, well apparently, this orc was very well-spoken and clean-cut. It doesn’t seem to be a rogue orc at all.” “Then release the poor fellow.” “Um, about that… Judith had some reservations, and…” “Damn that whelp. If she sparks another war with the orcs, she’ll wish she’d never been born…” Judith was the knight in charge of investigating the highway ambush case. She was a rookie knight who had only been on the job for a year. At long last, she had finally been entrusted with a mission of her own. It was the kind of mission that should have been wrapped up almost immediately, but there had been no leads. Either the criminal was far craftier than had been expected, or Judith really was that useless. Recently, Judith herself had been increasingly panicked by her lack of results. She was desperate to do anything she could to prove she wasn’t entirely useless. “Well, what do you think?” “Um, well… Judith is right. There are a lot of strange factors at play here. The orc refuses to tell us the purpose of his travel, and he also has a fairy with him. Neither seemed at all concerned to find themselves surrounded by our platoon. If you ask me, I think they might be…spies.” “Pfft!” Houston snorted dismissively. This soldier was young and hadn’t even been in the war. So he knew nothing of the orc race. Anyone with basic knowledge of the orcs could tell you that coming across an orc spy would be like finding a needle in a haystack. As a rule, they didn’t exist. Orcs just weren’t suited to espionage. “Lord Houston, this is no laughing matter! No doubt they allowed themselves to be arrested by us so they could gather intel on us from within!” “Fool! An orc would never be so ingenious. If spying was the objective, the fairy would have come alone.” From all Houston knew of orcs, they would never allow themselves to be captured. If it was intel they really wanted, then the orc would have fought every enemy to the death, whether he had backup or not. Then he would have thrown Judith to the floor and extracted the required information from her through means of carnal torture. An orc would never be capable of the kind of subterfuge needed to infiltrate an enemy camp and gather intel from within. Sending a scout ahead was about the extent of an orc’s advance preparations. Getting the measure of an enemy’s position, estimating the number of warriors and how they were armed—how many swords, how many bows—and so on…yes, the orcs often scouted ahead, just like other races. Indeed, while they lacked any prowess in spying, the orcs actually had a wide repertoire of secret battle tactics, the likes of which would make any human’s head spin. But this orc had capitulated and allowed himself to be captured—from that alone, it was clearly impossible that they had a rogue orc on their hands. No, this was a rational orc, capable of abiding by the Orc King’s rules and making nice with humans. And yet Houston had never heard of an orc traveling alone. Orcs were a highly sociable, tribal race. Still, he supposed every race had its outliers. An orc traveling alone wasn’t really so shocking. No, Judith had merely panicked and detained an innocent orc. That seemed to be the extent of the situation. At least, that was the conclusion Houston had already come to. But it is odd that he’s apparently being accompanied by a fairy. During the war, orcs and fairies had worked together. Did this mean the two of them were engaged in some sort of combat operation? Even though the war was over, Houston was always on alert for the faintest whiff of discord on the air. “All right, I suppose I’ll simply have to go and take a look for myself.” Houston slapped his knees before getting to his feet. The jail was located in the basement of the Order of Knights HQ. During the war, its cells had been filled to the brim with POWs, who were often tortured to death for information. During the last months of the hostilities, a plague spread among the prisoners. Houston had always refused to set foot in the place. Post-war, though, the jail had been fully cleaned, and now it was mostly used to detain minor offenders. These days, it was so clean that even a faint hint of citrus wafted on the air. “Just cut the crap already and tell us the reason for your journey! Why were you walking through the forest? What are you doing in Krassel? And what the heck is with the fairy?!” As Houston descended the stairs to the jail, he could hear Judith yelling. Wow, she was really going for the all-out intimidation method. Unexpected of a rookie knight. How was a captured orc supposed to speak openly in the face of such hostility? Orcs loathed being looked down on by anyone. Being looked down on by a woman was probably more than they could stomach. Your average orc’s sense of pride would never permit him to crack under the interrogation of a woman, even if he had nothing to hide. Houston smiled dryly. This was surely the cue for the orc to bark: If ya wanna know so bad, ya gonna hafta beat it outta me! If things got that far, then the interrogation as a whole would be a lost cause. Judith’s approach was absolutely the worst possible mode of interrogation for an orc. “The objective of my journey is a private matter. In short, I am in pursuit of something. I was walking through the forest, as that is the fastest route. And I have come here because I believe what I seek is likely to be found here. As for the fairy, they’re a friend. They are aware of my objective, and they have come along to assist me.” The orc’s response was calm and firm. How unusual. Houston gave a snort of amusement. A passionate, hot-blooded orc would inevitably explode under questioning. But the more established ones, the veteran warriors—there seemed to be more of them about after the war. They were much harder to rattle. Their senses were perhaps dulled by the sound of so much roaring and bellowing during battle. A mere interrogation may have sounded like a pleasant conversation to them. But if this was a veteran warrior orc, then that raised further questions. Why would such an orc be wandering the lands outside of his own country, searching for something? “What is this thing you’re looking for? And why do you need it?!” “That…I refuse to say.” “Why?! That’s highly suspicious! What are you hiding, you wretched orc?!” Perhaps something that, if identified, may be at risk of being stolen? Or could it be something the orcs had lost that they did not wish the other races to know was lost? Houston weighed these two possibilities in his mind. He had reached the jailhouse door now, but all of a sudden, a deep, dark sense of foreboding washed over him. That voice…haven’t I heard it somewhere before? Houston’s intuition was correct. He had always placed a great deal of faith in his hunches, and as a result, he had always come back alive from the battlefield. Actually, I don’t think I’ll go in there after all… He often got this prickly sensation in his chest when he was faced with certain dangerous situations. The sensation would come and go, like an internal whisper, keeping Houston safe from harm. But even if his senses were telling him to withdraw, this was peacetime. There was no threat to his life waiting for him down in that jail cell. Besides, if he left Judith to her own devices, it would only prolong this pointless interrogation. If there was one thing Houston really hated, it was wasting time. So Houston carried on, opening the door to the interrogation room. “Judith, don’t overdo it. If you turn this into a diplomatic issue, it will be… Eeeek!” Houston let out a cowardly scream. He felt a tingle running down his spine, and his heart began to hammer against his ribcage. He was overtaken by an immediate urge to run. All of a sudden, his mind was back on the battlefield, a battle that had taken place shortly after he was appointed general of the Orc Response Force. The battle should have been an easy win for them. They had the greater power, the craftier tactics. But despite that, their vanguard was unable to break through the enemy line. Their squad was scattered by a surprise sidelong attack. While their reserve platoon then rushed to the front line, their main unit had been besieged by orc warriors. Had the orcs predicted their battle plan? Or had it all just been a coincidence? The orc brigade that had besieged their main unit had been composed of their best warriors. The sight of one orc in particular was burned into Houston’s mind. He could see him on the front line whenever he closed his eyes, swinging his mighty sword. That orc killed the Response Force’s lieutenant, a proud soldier. While the lieutenant was in the process of being slain, Houston had retreated as fast as his legs could carry him, gasping for breath. He managed to make it back to base safely, but the battle had been like something out of a nightmare. He’d never quite gotten over the trauma of it. It wasn’t a nightmare, though. Because it kept on happening after that. Houston encountered that same orc over and over again on the battlefield. Maybe it was just his imagination, but Houston always got the feeling the orc was trying to kill him in particular. Maybe the orc was targeting him. He was the general, after all, and if he was slain, the battalion as a whole would be weakened. Houston had never engaged in direct combat with that orc, however. He always ran from every encounter, as fast as his legs would carry him. Even so, it was a miracle he’d managed to escape with his life each time. The orc would show himself on even the most grueling battlefields. No matter how strong and numerous the human army, the orc always showed up. And he would always fight to the last man standing. At the battle of Remium Plateau, for instance, the wise human elders had the ingenious idea to bring a dragon onto the battlefield. And while this dragon turned the demons and ogres into charcoal, the orc stood firm, continuing to fight the dragon along with his surviving comrades. Houston couldn’t help admiring the orc as he watched him in battle. Indeed, there was something about the hideous orc’s skill that made him seem almost beautiful to Houston. That’s why the memory of that particular orc had stuck with him. Ordinary green orc skin. The standard large tusks, though still a bit small for an orc. A brawny, muscular physique. Eyes like a hawk. Purplish-bluish hair. His appearance was unremarkable, that of any green orc, but Houston knew he was not mistaken. The last time he’d been this close to him, it was at the peace treaty signing ceremony. No, he wasn’t this close even then. There must have been at least sixty-five feet of space. But the orc standing before him now was a mere sixteen feet away. Close enough to grab him. He apparently wasn’t carrying that sword of his, the one that was as long as he was tall. But Houston knew… Yes, Houston knew the orc was capable of moving at speeds that would match even the wild beastkin race and that he could pulverize dwarven black-steel armor with only his bare hands. He’d seen these feats with his own two eyes, after all. He was not mistaken. Nobody had quite believed him when he’d told the tale later, but that was how the last adjutant had been killed. Yes, this was an orc worthy of all the titles the people assigned to him. The Mad Warrior, the Destroyer, the Annihilator, the Raging Bull, Steel Arm, the Nightmare of the Shiwanashi Forest, the Green Disaster, the Dragon Decapitator… There were many more…but all of them were an accurate summary of this fearsome orc. And in the country of the orcs, they called him… The Orc Hero Bash. Houston was in the presence of the most fearsome specimen to be found among the entire orc race. “…” On closer inspection, Houston noticed the fairy. It looked to be the same one that had always accompanied Bash on the battlefield, but right then, it was wrapped up tight in a rolled napkin, lying helplessly on the table. Houston knew all about this fairy, too. Fairies have valuable healing properties, so they’re rarely ever killed once they’ve been captured. Knowing this, this particularly shrewd fairy often allowed itself to be captured on purpose so that it could, through some unknown magical means, transmit the humans’ positions to the most dangerous orc and call him right to the spot. As a result, this fairy had earned itself the nickname of Fake-Bait Zell. “J-Judith…” Despite his tremulous voice, Houston was somehow managing not to turn tail and run screaming. His subordinates were watching, you see. Houston was the general of the armed forces. He commanded both knights and foot soldiers alike. He was proud of this and the respect he received from his troops. There was no way he was about to throw away their trust. Besides, it actually looked like Bash was cooperating with Judith, a mild, calm expression on his face. His hunter’s eyes shone with a sort of warm light as he nodded along to Judith’s interrogation like a benevolent old man listening indulgently to the babbling of a young child. How unexpected. So this demonic killer had a softer side to him. He wasn’t all anger and violence. And why would he be? The war had ended. This was peacetime, wasn’t it? Yes, even the orc’s eyes spoke of peace. But he was still Bash. The Bash of whispered, fearful legend. Houston took a deep breath to center himself. Then, with extreme caution, and keeping as much distance between himself and the orc as possible, he turned to deal with Judith. “What…? Just what is it you’re doing here?” “Sir! We received reports of an orc ambush in the western forest region. Upon investigation, we discovered that an orc had been seen recently entering the town. We tracked him down and arrested him at the inn he was staying in. Right now, I am conducting an interrogation!” “Ah. Hmm…” Houston immediately knew this was an arrest based on misidentification. Bash would never leave any eyewitnesses alive after an ambush. And if he was at all guilty of this crime, he would simply have broken free of the arrest, killing whoever stood in his way and fleeing. An orc of this caliber could escape with ease, even if he was surrounded by a hundred soldiers. As to how Houston could think this with such conviction… Well, he’d seen Bash break free of his own troops that way during the war. “He’s given up most of the information, but he still won’t tell us the purpose of his journey. Hey, you! Spit it out, you filthy warthog!” Judith grabbed Bash by the collar and pushed her face up against his, eyes flashing menacingly. Houston shuddered with sudden terror. “Ah, don’t do that! Stop! No violence!” He wanted to sound commanding, but his voice came out in an awkward shriek. Peacetime though it was, who could blame the orc for being angered by this interrogation? Here he was, accused of a crime, dragged down to the jail, and now some wet-behind-the-ears rookie knight who hadn’t even been in the war was harassing and disrespecting him. Yes, Bash had every right to be angry. Furious, even. “I have nothing further to say.” But Bash didn’t appear to be even slightly perturbed. Instead, he merely twitched his nose, his expression serene. Perhaps the citrus fruit scent wafting through the jail was having a calming effect on him? Orcs would eat anything, but surprisingly, they had a special appetite for fruit. Houston felt a rush of gratitude toward the soldier who had suggested freshening up the jail with citrus fruit oil. Perhaps he would even give them a raise. “Ahem… Judith. Let go of him at once, then step back here with me. Slowly.” “What…? What’s wrong with you? What happened to Houston the Pig Slayer? Why are you acting so feeble and—?” “Do not address me by that name!” An orc would surely find Houston’s nickname insulting…