Chapter 8

5 TRACKING Bash was dreaming. In the dream, he was a young warrior again, still new to the battlefield. On the day in the dream, Bash and his company were hiding in the undergrowth, preparing to launch a surprise attack on the enemy. “Listen, fellas… If you were gonna take a wife, what would ya want ’er to be like?” As they hunkered down in the thick undergrowth, it was the orc Bulfitt who posed that question. Bulfitt had a deep wound on his neck—a souvenir from the previous battle. The attack he’d suffered should have beheaded him, but thanks to his tough orc hide, he’d not only kept his head, but his carotid artery wasn’t even nicked. Even the toughest-skinned orcs sometimes need medical care to avoid the grave. But Bulfitt had battled on, almost unaware of his injury. His counterattack took down his assailant, and he was able to withdraw without further incident. Bulfitt had already told that particular war story a hundred times. He was truly a heroic orc. “I think, for me, I’d want a strong woman.” Biggden was one of the bulkiest orcs in their company. Orcs often threw themselves fully into battle. In the thick of war, strength and sheer size were almost equal in terms of battle advantage. The bigger you were, the easier it was to ignore superficial wounds and keep fighting. And of course, you would be able to carry much heftier weapons. The sight of Biggden flailing two gigantic clubs in the air would be enough to make any orc hold their breath in admiration. Despite fighting in countless battles, Biggden bore no major scars. Of all Bash’s company, he was perhaps the most promising future star. “I like a woman who knows ’er own mind. And if it’s humans we’re talkin’ about, I’d like a lady knight. A strong warrior for me missus, now that’d be just fine with me.” Donzoi was missing the ring finger and pinky finger of his left hand, and his entire body was disfigured with burns. He had been set on fire by a mage in his first-ever battle. If there hadn’t been a pond located conveniently nearby, Donzoi would have burned to death. Ever since then, Donzoi always carried a waterskin inside his armor. He was the best-prepared orc of Bash’s generation. Donzoi would study the enemy, identify any weaknesses, and think of the best way to approach them. He put great care into choosing his shield or making his own fire bottles and other inventive weapons and tools to bring to the battlefield. Many an army general had been saved by Donzoi’s ingenuity. “I know what ya mean. A warrior, eh? She’d put up a good fight. Unbreakable spirit, ya know? That wouldn’t fade, not even after already whelpin’ three young’uns for ya. Imagine ’avin’ yer way with ’er in front of all ’er troops… Makes me hard just thinkin’ about it!” Budarth was a red orc with a huge cross-shaped scar across his entire face. He was Bash’s platoon captain. His meaty arms were twice the circumference of any other orc’s, and he had the strength to match his size. He had been born from a dwarf woman and had nimble fingers. He was an archer who fought with a sort of hybrid bow. The bow was designed to work with an orc’s mighty arm strength, and it was a formidable weapon indeed. With it, Budarth was capable of pinning a horse to a tree or shooting a wyvern clean out of the sky. As the platoon captain, he had a good head on his shoulders, but he was also arrogant and somewhat stuck-up. Just because he was one of the rarer red orc variety, that made him think he was better than the others. “If we want to get wives someday, we need to prove ourselves…” Bash was the best swordsman in the group. But at that time, he still hadn’t made a name for himself. He was the smallest orc in the platoon, and his skin was just an ordinary green color. Bash wasn’t a nobody, far from it. He just hadn’t begun to stand out yet. “Hmm. They’re close.” “Time to boogie, fellas.” “All right, ’ere they come. Quiet down, all of ya!” They all fell silent, complying with Budarth’s command. Moments later, the sound of horses’ hooves could be heard. It seemed like the enemy party was trying to be as quiet as possible, but the orcs’ keen ears picked up on every little sound. Bash’s group waited until they could hear the horses breathing, and then… “GRAGH!” They pounced. The enemy party consisted of about five knights and another thirty foot soldiers. A mid-sized platoon. The orc company, however, numbered only five. The enemy had the advantage, but Bash’s company did not know the meaning of the word retreat. Instead, they launched a furious attack. …Biggden died in that battle. When Bash awoke, he found himself lying down in an unfamiliar room. Where am I? As Bash sat up in bed, the events of the previous day came flooding back to him. Things had ended up with him being paired with Judith, and they were to go out and investigate the forest road ambush together. It had been too late the previous day, though—the sun was already setting on the horizon. So Bash was shown to a private chamber in the fortress and invited to spend the night. So I’m in Krassel, huh? Bash sighed, pondering the dream he’d been having. Yes… We often used to have talks like that… Meeting Judith yesterday must have caused him to dream that particular dream. Judith…the woman who had appeared in his life so suddenly. She was a beauty, and perhaps as a result of daily, vigorous sword training, she had one hell of a hot body. Her voice was pleasant to the ear, as well. Bash wished he could have listened to her talk more. To add to all that, she was a knight—every orc’s dream woman. A knight would be prideful and wouldn’t give up, right to the bitter end. Forcefully impregnating a haughty woman who fought back the entire time…that was every orc’s most erotic fantasy. Bash’s circle of orcs were all in agreement that a knight or a princess was the best option for a wife. Personally, Bash didn’t care whether a woman was a princess or a knight or what have you. Any woman would do when it came to shedding his virginity. But Judith… Judith was the embodiment of every red-blooded orc’s deepest desires. As Bash pictured losing his virginity with Judith, the blood all rushed to a certain part of his body, instantly engorging it. What a lucky orc I am to have met a gorgeous lady knight like her so soon into my search. “Ah, mornin’, Boss.” While Bash sat there, enraptured by his own fantasies, Zell stopped grooming their fairy wings and turned to him with a big grin. “You’re very, um, perky this morning. Thinking about paying that lady knight a visit, are ya?” “Something like that.” “You know, Boss, this is the first time I’ve seen you in all your morning glory. It’s just as magnificent as I’d imagined.” “Is it?” Bash felt his chest swell with pride. Orcs felt no embarrassment when others noticed they’d pitched a tent in their pants. In fact, an orc’s erection was a symbol of his virility and manhood, and the general consensus was that it was something worth showing off. Being complimented on the size of their member was an orc’s second-favorite thing to hear. The thing they liked to hear best of all, of course, was praise for their physical strength. “That knight, Judith, I bet she’s a virgin for sure! She’ll probably squeal like a piglet when you stick it to her!” Zell was trying to sound casual and boorish, but actually, the fairy seemed a bit embarrassed by their own words. Yes, Zell was facing Bash, grinning widely, but their eyes were darting this way and that. “But are you sure she’s the woman you want?” “What do you mean?” “I just think… Y’know, she was awfully impudent considering she’s just a rookie knight. She arrested you and looked down on you. I’m a broad-minded fairy, but even I was starting to get pissed off.” “I don’t mind that. I like a woman with fire.” “You like strong-willed women, Boss?” “Of course. All orcs do.” Having said that, the previous day’s encounter with Judith was the first time Bash had ever met a strong-willed woman, let alone spoken to one. All of the female soldiers he’d met in the past he’d just attacked on sight. Incidentally, this supposed orc penchant for strong-willed women… Bash had only ever heard this from lecherous orcs during bawdy conversations. But he’d heard it so often that he had internalized it, and now he, too, believed that feisty women were best. “Hmm, I see, I see…,” muttered Zell under their breath. Then they began gathering up the fairy dust they’d dropped and putting it neatly into a tiny glass bottle. Fairy dust had unusual power. When sprinkled on a wound, it would instantly soothe and heal. When swallowed, it would recover energy and strength. Taken regularly, it could cure most illnesses, and it even had beautifying properties. It was something of a panacea. It was one of a fairy’s main functions, but it was also the reason humans, with their weak bodies, sought to capture them. The fairies were aware that many different races were keen to get their hands on their dust, and so they began proactively exporting it for sale. Since fairies have tiny bodies, they can only make a little fairy dust at a time. Fairy dust also rapidly loses potency. Thus, unsatisfied by the concept of fair trade, the humans still sought to poach fairies for captivity. “Here, Boss.” “…May I?” “Sure! Consider it thanks for saving me! Oh, but one request…could you use it somewhere I can’t see you? Thanks.” Zell offered the tiny bottle to Bash, blushing. Fairies generally hated giving away their fairy dust. They regard their dust as waste, no different from feces. No matter how ephemeral fairies may be, having to watch other people smearing their “excrement” on their wounds or swallowing it…grosses them out. Actually, the fairies who stayed behind in their own country during the war never even knew what uses their fairy dust was being put to. How the fairies laughed to learn that humans raised crops using their own crap as fertilizer. Ew, gross! But Zell was one of the fairies who had survived the war. It was still embarrassing, of course, but Zell had mostly managed to push through it. “Thank you.” Nodding, Bash gratefully accepted the bottle. “This will come in handy. I don’t know how many times I’ve relied on this stuff before now.” Back when he was still a rookie, Bash had suffered a serious injury, but fairy dust had saved his life. By the time the war was reaching its final stages, Bash had made it through with no further serious injuries. He’d used fairy dust regularly just to keep himself going so he could battle for days on end. He probably wouldn’t need any fairy dust on this journey, though. Still, Bash was grateful. Having a bottle on hand would be very reassuring. “All right, you should get dressed, and then…” Suddenly, Zell trailed off mid-sentence. “Wake up, orc! General Houston said to show you to…” The door had been flung open all of a sudden, and Judith’s face appeared, peeking around the doorframe. She was staring at Bash, who was standing there stark naked and well-muscled from head to toe, his orc pride rising tall from his groin for all to see. “…” Judith instantly went white and appeared to stop breathing. Bash knew the look in her eyes. Rage. Judith was so upset, she couldn’t even speak. But Bash had no idea why. The previous night, Bash had removed his armor since he would be sleeping indoors and had gone to bed naked. Surely, that couldn’t be what Judith was angry about, could it? “What is it?” “Just…get ready. I’ll be, um, waiting…outside…” “All right.” If Bash had done something to offend the lady, then he was indeed sorry. But he was also an orc. An orc never apologized without at least knowing what he did wrong. “What could have angered her…?” “She’s had a stick up her butt since yesterday. Maybe angry is just her default mood?” “No, today she seemed completely different than she did yesterday.” “Eh, I guess.” There was definitely something up with Judith. But Bash wasn’t socially aware enough to identify or articulate what that was. Nor did he know much about humans to begin with. “At any rate, you better not keep her waiting! Hurry and get ready! Then go get that lady knight in the sack!” “I will!” Once they were ready to go, the two of them left the room together. The western forest region of Krassel… A single highway ran through the forest. It had been constructed for transportation during the war. It was named the Brikuus Highway after the general who’d commissioned its construction. In the western part of the forest, the highway split into two roads. One led to the country of the elves, the other to the country of the orcs. Despite being called a highway, it was more of a narrow dirt track that could barely fit a single horse-drawn carriage. The orc country didn’t get that many visitors, and if one wanted to go to elf country, there were other, safer roads to take. So traffic was rare along the highway. Incidentally, the reason Bash hadn’t taken this highway was because orcs generally stayed off the roads, as a rule. An orc would never lose his way in the forest, and a little rough terrain was nothing to them. So really, they had no need of roads. Recently, an incident had occurred on the Brikuus Highway. A horse-drawn wagon had been ambushed by bugbears, and the merchants riding on the wagon had been killed. Actually, this kind of thing happened a lot. Even though the war was over, that didn’t mean there were any fewer wild beasts that preyed on humans around. These unintelligent creatures roamed the forest freely, attacking people every now and again. Actually, it was more than every now and again. It was all the time lately. So the general, Houston, had tasked the hunters with locating and suppressing the bugbears in particular. When the wild beast population grew out of control, regular attacks like these were the result. A cull was the only logical recourse. The hunters had already wiped out several bugbear packs. Eliminating every single one in the western forest wasn’t feasible, but taking out some of the larger packs should have proven quite effective. After that, the issue ought to have been resolved for a time. The attacks didn’t stop completely, but the humans were confident the frequency of them would decline considerably. That didn’t happen, though. The attacks continued with the exact same frequency of occurrence, even after the bugbear cull. Something was strange. Suspicious, Houston put the rookie knight Judith in charge of the investigation. Judith may have been a rookie, but she’d been a knight for a whole year now. It was high time she took on some more responsibility. Judith embarked on the investigation with relish. A promising young knight, she was nervous to be tackling her first important mission. Nonetheless, she managed to gather several intriguing pieces of information. First, she confirmed that the western forest region was only very sparsely inhabited by bugbears to begin with. And with the recent culls—if the hunters’ reports were correct, that is—there should have been even fewer. She also discovered that several loads of cargo being transported by the merchants had gone missing. Not so many as to be immediately obvious without checking the stock lists of major trading companies, but there were definitely important items missing. Bugbears and other wild beasts might drag away interesting cargo on occasion, but on a scale this big…? Unlikely. From those two pieces of information, Houston surmised that these attacks were being committed not by wild animals but by people. Whoever was behind it all was making it look like bugbear attacks and then pilfering subtle amounts of the goods from the wagons. To date, the humans hadn’t managed to apprehend the criminal responsible. Attacks kept happening. But all that was left behind afterward were bugbear tracks. The bugbears knew to stay away when guards were sent accompanying the merchant wagons. But in recent years, inexperienced and enthusiastic sellers had increased in number, and few of them paid any heed to the dangers of traveling without protection. Eyewitness reports from survivors mentioned bugbears on the scene, but none recalled seeing anyone else. Aware of the preciousness of human lives, Houston felt he could not, in good conscience, post spies in the forest to potentially witness an attack from start to finish. And so Judith’s investigation had reached a standstill. She had no new leads, no clues, and no suspects. All she had were more questions. Judith started to become increasingly stressed-out. This was her first real mission, and she was failing miserably. Just as Judith was nearing her wit’s end, another attack occurred. She and her troops had been patrolling the forest when they stumbled across a horse-drawn carriage that had only just been attacked. As always, there were no potential suspects in sight. But on closer inspection of the scene, they located orc footprints. The prints led them all the way back to Krassel. Then, while gathering reports in the town, they discovered that an orc had been seen recently passing through the gates. They also received a report from two traumatized female merchants, claiming they had been attacked by an orc in the forest. Judith had leaped on this new information and quickly continued the investigation. She found out that the orc the women had been attacked by was staying at an inn in town. Further investigation would have made it clear that this orc had not been the instigator of the carriage ambush. But by this time, Judith was too frenzied to think clearly. Instead, she was extremely excited. Finally, she had a clue. Breathing hard, she spoke to her men. “This is unbelievable! The culprits were right here in town, right under our noses, and we didn’t realize it! That’s it! We’re going to round up every last potential thief in town, starting with the orc!!!” Then Judith had instructed her men to surround the inn, and after that, Bash had been arrested on a case of mistaken identity. “So this is the scene. What do you make of it, Mr. Bash?” Bash had been brought back to the scene of the ambush. The broken carriage was still lying on its side. As was the several-day-old horse corpse, which was abuzz with flies. There were also tracks. Obvious ones. There were three different types of tracks in all: the merchant women’s tracks, Bash’s tracks, and countless bugbear tracks. “It looks like it was a straightforward bugbear ambush to me.” After looking around the scene, that was the only hypothesis Bash could think of. Bash had seen ambushes like this during the war, often caused by the enemy troops, but sometimes by wild beasts and monsters. Orc warriors may have been plentiful, but if they ever ended up outnumbered in a wild beast ambush, their survival would not have been guaranteed. The scene in front of him now looked like the aftermath of a standard ambush attack. “Hmph, so you’re just a regular orc after all. Taking it at face value, are you?” “Hmm…” Judith mockingly snorted at Bash. Bash was a warrior and wasn’t accustomed to these types of investigations. All he could do was describe the scene as he saw it. But he wished he could say something—anything—that would impress Judith. “Well…first off, there are no other footprints besides those of the merchant women. The cargo, too, appears mostly untouched. If an enemy force had waylaid the carriage, there is no way they would have left the spoils behind. Particularly food and water. Those would have been the first things they took. If this was wartime, it would be easy to chalk this up to nothing more than a random bugbear attack.” “Right. Go on…” Bash thought hard, his small brain working as fast as it could go. He hadn’t used his brain like this in a long while, not since that time the dwarf troops almost had him buried alive in the Aryoshiya Caves. Bash had used all the local environmental information available to him on that scene in order to escape. “If this is the work of sentient beings, then there has to be some sort of objective behind it.” “That’s what we’ve been saying. Their objective is to attack the merchants but avoid suspicion by making it look like random wild animal attacks. Because if the blame falls on animals, they won’t be suspected, and they can continue stealing to their hearts’ content. Honestly, orcs are so stupid. You’re nothing but dead weight to this investigation…” “Hmm…” Bash glanced at his partner, the fairy. In situations like this, orcs often turned to their fairy companions, the scouts, for their opinions. Zell zoomed around the scene, doing tumbling somersaults in the air as they thought hard. Then, drawing level with Bash’s eyeline, they shook their head. “Well, judging by the scene, a bugbear attack is the only explanation I can think of as well.” “Oh, is it, now?! See, you’re useless. This is a complex issue. We’ve been investigating it for ages and still don’t know who’s behind it. It’s not like it’s something super obvious, something you two jerks could figure out from just a glance at the scene, you know.” Judith puffed up her chest haughtily as she said this, even though her team’s failure was nothing to brag about. But Zell had no idea, either, nor did Bash. “Shall we get on with the tracking, then?” “Yes, let’s head to the next area.” “Next area? What are you talking about?” Still puffed up with indignance, Judith narrowed her eyes at the fairy and the orc. “Why, tracking the bugbears, of course.” Zell shrugged, but Judith’s frown only deepened. “Tracking? Don’t be absurd. Bugbears are incredibly cunning. Even our best hunters can’t track them.” As a rule, bugbears didn’t leave tracks. At least, that was the general human consensus. Bugbears were adept at hiding their own tracks and were even careful not to poop anywhere but safe within their own lairs. To get back to their lairs without leaving evidence, bugbears would cross rivers and even climb through trees. Anything to avoid leaving prints. In order to draw out and capture a bugbear, the hunters had to burn special incense to entice them. This incense was made from bugbear blood. The scent of this burning incense would confuse bugbears into thinking their territory was under attack, and the whole pack would come running to fight. As long as the incense was burned in areas that actually contained bugbears, that is. “Really? Humans can’t track them?” These beliefs about bugbears never leaving tracks were generally held only by the human race. Other races knew better. “Are you saying fairies can?!” “No, no, fairies don’t partake in tracking or other such animalistic practices. And besides, we have no reason to go pursuing bugbears. They don’t even exist in fairy country, so nobody cares. Certainly, no one would care to go tracking them…” Actually, bugbears didn’t traditionally dwell in human country, either. After the war, they began to appear within the human borders. Why was this so? Had the bugbears relocated? Unlikely. Bugbears were highly territorial wild beasts. No, they would never leave their original homes. Actually, there was a logical explanation. It was because the humans had seized land that used to belong to another race. And they had discovered bugbears dwelling on this land. Perhaps it had always originally been bugbear territory. “If you wanna track a bugbear, you’ve gotta ask the orcs. They’ve been doing it for hundreds of years!” Right, this land was originally part of the orc country. Wild beasts were vermin. Left unculled, they would infiltrate the towns and villages, destroy crops, and attack livestock. When their numbers were plentiful, they would even attack people. There were not so many differences between ordinary wild beasts and demonic beasts. One key difference was that demonic beasts tended to appear from out of the ether, apparently not from natural reproductive means. Although some said the key difference was that only demonic beasts attacked humans unprovoked. Actually, the beastkin, demons, and orcs—races now classed as sentient beings—were considered equivalent to mythical creatures and monsters pre-war. The human historical records even described them as such. The bugbears were viewed by orcs as a type of mythical creature, too, but were treated much the same as other wild animals. They weren’t very tasty, but their large size and the sheer number of them meant that they made suitable food for the orcs. As a result, orcs became skilled at hunting the bugbears. Orc hunters would get up with the dawn and head out to track them. The early bird gets the worm, after all. During the war, Bash himself had often hunted bugbears. “…” Bash was silent now, solemnly following the bugbears’ trail. He hadn’t been hunting in a while, but it still came easy to him. Bugbears may have been crafty, but even they weren’t able to hide their tracks completely. The saliva they tended to drop as they moved between trees actually had a distinctive smell and was a huge clue. Orcs had keen noses. Their sense of smell was particularly attuned to the distinct odors of wild beasts. They could pick up on scents human hunters would barely even notice. In fact, the orcs were said to have a sense of smell that was even keener than that of the beastkin race. To put it another way, there was no hope of tracking a bugbear without an orc’s nose to guide the way. Bugbears were almost pathologically obsessed with hiding their own tracks. If you did happen to catch sight of a bugbear print, it was likely to be extremely faint, or even only partially formed, so much so that you would doubt your own eyes. Bugbears would also sometimes intentionally leave fake prints that led in the opposite direction of their lairs, just to throw off would-be pursuers. “I heard that orcs have a keen nose for tracking down wild beasts, but I had no idea…” Houston was gazing with awe at Bash, who was busy tracking. His voice was filled with wonder. “It’s not so impressive. You know as well as anyone that our noses are easier to fool than, say, a beastkin’s.” “Ah… Well…” Bash’s pointed response made Houston smile weakly. Yes, orcs may have been blessed with keen noses, but not discerning ones. For an orc was unable to categorize different smells. In the past, the humans had exploited this weakness by luring the orcs to one place and then ambushing the entire group of them. Houston found his thoughts returning to the war. He had once lured Bash into a trap using just such a technique in the hopes of killing him. “At any rate, this tracking method should bring us right to the bugbears that were responsible for the ambush.” Bash was leading the group, which also consisted of seven humans. There were Houston and Judith, plus five foot soldiers. The soldiers had all been trained by Houston himself. The five of them had served faithfully under Houston since back during the war… Of course, they all knew about Bash. But they were only foot soldiers. None of them had any particular interest in getting to know the enemy, and none were experts on orcs, as Houston was. The full weight of the title Orc Hero didn’t really register with them. All they knew was that there had been a particularly wild orc warrior on the battlefield during the war. Before setting out, Houston had gathered his soldiers around him. “He may be an orc, but he’s an orc of significant status. You don’t need to be on your guard around him.” Or so he had told them. But the foot soldiers continued to view Bash as an unknown and potentially threatening entity. The soldiers remained on high alert around Bash, making sure to stay aware of their surroundings so that they could react quickly if the orc launched a surprise attack. In fact, they were somewhat confused. Why was General Houston expressing such goodwill toward an orc? It was extremely strange. “Has the general lost his mind? And he’s usually so ruthless toward the orcs, too…” “No idea.” “Hmm, maybe something happened with this particular orc during the war.” The soldiers muttered among themselves, trying to make sense of Houston’s strange attitude. “Yeah, it doesn’t track. Maybe this orc has placed some sort of magic charm on him?” “Yeah, maybe. Anyway, if Houston the Pig Slayer is willing to vouch for him, then he must be a special sort of orc.” “Right, there are some good folks to be found out there, even among the harpies and the lizardmen. It stands to reason there has to be at least a few half-decent orcs.” “You’re probably right. This orc does seem pretty unusual.” Through this hushed discussion, the soldiers managed to come to a general consensus on Bash’s supposed credentials, although one person remained unconvinced. That person, of course, was Judith. “…Hmph.” As the other soldiers began to increasingly warm toward Bash, only Judith remained ice-cold, fixing the orc with a hateful glare. “…!” All of a sudden, Bash turned around. Judith looked away in a panic. Then she realized that she had no reason to feel flustered and trained her gaze on him again, in a challenging manner. Bash simply gazed back at Judith’s scowl with a neutral expression on his face. For a few moments, they contemplated each other. Judith narrowed her eyes, daring Bash to be the first to look away. If she showed the slightest hint of weakness now, the orc would soon start throwing his weight about and trying to intimidate her. She just knew it. “Huh.” As if reading Judith’s mind, the orc rolled his eyes a little, eventually looking away. “Hey!” Judith knew what that look meant. The orc was mocking her. It was as if he was saying she was too insignificant to even bother with. How dare this orc look down on me! Of course, Bash had no such intentions. He was merely putting into practice what he’d learned from the lesson on human women Zell had given him. Rule Number Four: Give Her an Appreciative Glance and Rule Number Five: Give Her a Suggestive Smile. Apparently, human women loved what Zell called “the male gaze.” They also apparently liked men who were mysterious. Zell had assured Bash that any woman would go weak in the knees for a man who could whip out a suggestive smile at the critical moment. Going weak in the knees over a smile… Could human women really be that easy? At any rate, Bash’s attempts didn’t seem to be having the desired effect on Judith. “Is something amiss, Mr. Bash?” “No, nothing… Incidentally, we are getting close now.” Houston clamped his lips tightly together and raised one hand in the air. At his signal, the foot soldiers all came to a sudden halt. With a final clank of their armor, they froze completely still. Despite being clad in heavy armor, Houston’s soldiers were able to stand stock-still, making not even the slightest clink or clank. These soldiers had survived on the battlefield, where making the slightest noise could often mean death. “Judith, it is time for the silencing.” “Yes, sir.” Judith withdrew her wand from her belt at Houston’s command, her face solemn and serious. Then, muttering an incantation under her breath, Judith began to cast silencing magic on each soldier in turn. This type of support magic required the caster to touch the recipient’s body. Naturally, Judith paused before touching Bash. But, aware of her superior’s eyes on her, she knew she could not shy away from him. This was still her first mission, and she’d proven herself completely useless so far. She certainly wasn’t about to hinder things further by letting her own sense of disgust get in the way. With a look of revulsion on her face, Judith placed her hand on Bash’s bulky shoulder. “Unf!” Just then, Bash let out a strange grunt. Judith shrank back, startled. “What? What is it?” “Ah… I apologize. It is just that your hand is so…cold.” Bash somehow managed to cover for himself. In truth, he had been shaken by the unexpectedly soft touch of a woman’s hand, a touch he had never felt before now. He was suddenly overcome with a huge urge to throw Judith to the ground and make babies with her right then and there, in front of everyone. But he restrained himself. He no longer needed Zell’s help to guess that a human woman would not take kindly to such a thing. Especially not a strong-willed woman like Judith. During the war, Bash had once seen a great chief carrying a woman like a sack of potatoes. She was screaming and carrying on and seemed quite upset, all because the great chief had clearly just finished having his way with her. The great chief had actually been quite playful with the woman, toying with her during the mating act. It had not appeared violent, as was the usual way. The spectating orcs nearby had all been smiling and chuckling while watching. But the woman had seemed frantic. Apparently, such a thing was a bigger deal to humans. If an orc was to do such a thing in this postwar era, perhaps it would be considered nonconsensual. And so Bash girded his loins and tried desperately to slow his rapid breathing. Rule Number 6: He Who Loudly Pants Will Never Get Into Her Pants. When orcs were confronted with either a battle or a woman, they had a tendency to pant and snort loudly. But human women apparently did not care for this, considering it barbarous behavior. As Bash held himself together, his body began to sparkle slightly. It was a sign that the spell had taken hold. “All right. First off, let’s send a scout ahead.” The moment Houston suggested it, Zell shot forward. “A scout, you say? Leave it to me! I’m ready to dive into the thick of danger. I’d even fly right into the fires of Mount Bafar itself!” Then, without bothering to wait for a response, Zell zoomed off deep into the forest without a backward glance. “I’ll be back before sundown!” the fairy yelped before disappearing among the trees. “Hmm, well, I see no harm in leaving it to Scout Zell.” Houston knew quite a bit about Zell, too. That fairy could sniff out the enemy’s position no matter how well they were hiding. Zell would infiltrate the enemy HQ itself and guide Bash’s company right to the spot. Then carnage would ensue. Yes, Zell was an expert scout and spy. Houston knew all about Zell. “Hmm… Yes, I suppose…” “Anyway, let’s hold our position here until Scout Zell returns.” “Mm-hmm.” Bash nodded, but his brow was furrowed. Bash knew Zell would locate the enemy—that much was certain. The only problem was half the time when Zell found the enemy, the enemy also found Zell… And just as Bash had feared, Zell did not return.