Once we had slowed down, Iria and I looked over the mountain slope to see if we could catch a glimpse of any orc activity. The biggest advantage of searching from the air was, of course, that we could see a wider area. In fact, if the orc base had been in a flat, open region like a plain, we probably would have been able to spot it immediately. But this was a mountain range, meaning there was nothing below us but trees, trees, trees. If the orc army numbered in the thousands, it might have been a different story, but a hundred or so orcs wouldn’t be so easily discovered among all the shrubbery. Therefore, we had to lower our altitude to get a closer look, though it would make our visual range that much narrower. I couldn’t risk a plan of action that might delay our search.
That said, I’d already guessed this wouldn’t be easy. Even in the air, I’d suspected searching a mountain range for a group of monsters would be tougher than searching a plain, especially since there was no guarantee the orcs were even there in the first place. Most of it had been rumor and hearsay from people who might not have even seen the orcs themselves, so as anticlimactic as it would be, it was entirely possible they had just seen a bear or something with a similar body shape.
Even so, that would be fine. Like I said, as long as I could confirm that the orcs weren’t near the village, I’d be laying the villagers’ concerns to rest. And I could still use the search as a pretext for my first step in getting revenge on Iria. To me, the latter was the most important.
After about an hour of searching, I lowered Claimh Soras onto a bare mountain surface, explaining to Iria that the wyvern needed to rest. She nodded slightly, released her arms from around me, and quickly hopped off the saddle. Her face was flushed red with bashfulness, resembling an apple. In her excitement and nervousness over flying through the sky, she must have completely forgotten she’d been holding on to me the entire time, then suddenly remembered the moment we’d hit the ground. Observing her reaction, the corner of my mouth turned up into a smirk.
Truthfully, the indigo wyvern was an elite species. It could fly for two, even three hours without even getting tired or losing a significant amount of mana, especially when it wasn’t even in combat. So why was I taking a rest here, then? Naturally, so that I could see this reaction from Iria. For her, begrudgingly accompanying me and clinging to me, break times between flying sessions would normally be an opportunity to relax and catch a breather. But she’d have to go back to holding on to me once we took flight again. She would have to consciously wrap her arms around me, again and again, every time we took a break. Watching her face go pale and flush red every time was, honestly, a supreme joy. It also forced the fastidious adventurer to get used to touching my body, which was, in a way, training her for when I’d eat her soul in the future.
Lastly, it allowed me to use her as bait to lure out the orcs. The reproductive capabilities of orcs were incredibly high, and they were even capable of mating with other species like humans and elves. If one of them detected the scent of a human woman, they would probably come to us rather than us having to find them. That said, Iria was just one woman, so dragging her around the mountain range probably wouldn’t be too efficient. But it was better than having no plan at all, and when I thought of it as payback for the Lord of the Flies incident, I certainly didn’t feel guilty about it.
“Hm?”
Around the time we were taking our seventh break, I noticed a certain smell. By this point, the sun’s rays peeking through the trees were taking on a shade of crimson. Sitting in the shade of a tree, I was starting to think it was about time to head back to the village when a sudden stench pricked my nostrils. Frowning, I stood up. Iria, who’d been sitting a short distance away, had also gotten to her feet. Even Claimh Soras let out a wary growl.
Thirty seconds later, the thing that I’d expected to see finally appeared. I heard heavy, rumbling footsteps, and just as the stench became especially intense, I saw it: hairless black skin, a flat face, and its trademark hammer-like head. Its limbs were as thick as tree trunks, and it was a head taller than I was. In place of its eye sockets were two hollow, sunken holes. It was like staring down into a dark, deep, well or void. A gluttonous void hungry for food, sex, and destruction.
Its nose was inconspicuously small, but in contrast, its mouth opened wide, probably about twice as wide as a human’s or more. Its rows of sharp, sturdy teeth could tear a human’s limbs off and no doubt chew up the bones as well.
The creature was ghastly, to be frank, and the fact that its facial structure most closely resembled a human’s was even more unsettling. Worse, the thing absolutely reeked. Just looking at it was tough enough, but if I fought it at any closer range than this, the smell would probably be even worse. As I mentioned, orcs were extremely fertile, and imagining the source of that smell certainly wouldn’t be good for my mental health.
Suddenly, the orc screamed—a metallic, high-pitched screech. In its sights, of course, was Iria. In the next instant, the creature charged at her, drool flying from the corners of its mouth. In response, Iria glared at the monster and got ready to defend herself. As expected of a Rank 6 adventurer, the likes of a single orc wouldn’t frighten her. Her face was a little scrunched up, but that was probably because she couldn’t stand the smell the orc was giving off. Or perhaps she just wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of fighting it up close with that smell in her face.
“GROOOAR!”
I doubted it was because it felt like Iria would upstage it or anything, but at that moment, Claimh Soras let out a howl so mighty it shook the trees. Its long neck bulged, and it released its fire breath as though to sterilize a piece of filth. It was the same breath that had reduced a manticore to ash, so naturally a mere orc couldn’t withstand it.
Before Iria could even attack, the orc was enveloped in intense flame and burned to a crisp. The sheer power of the wyvern’s breath set the nearby trees aflame as well, but Claimh Soras flapped its mighty wings and generated a gale to extinguish them.
How do you like that? the wyvern seemed to say as it turned its head proudly to me. I rubbed its long neck in approval. Indeed, it had received a perfect score in my book. I felt like it was getting stronger and more reliable by the day, in fact. It had probably used its mana to generate that gale, and I got the feeling that if it mastered its mana attacks, it would be an incredibly helpful asset against illusory types, including dragons, in the future.
At any rate, we’d confirmed that there were indeed orcs here on the mountain range. What luck! The orc just now was probably either a scout or had been sent out to gather food. Looking at the ground, I could see that it had left a trail. If we followed it, we might be able to find the rest of them. Of course, there was also the chance that it had gotten separated from the rest by coincidence and had just been wandering around aimlessly, but even if that was the case, we could return to Merte for the day, change our strategy, and go at it again tomorrow.
“Now then, time to see where these footsteps lead. Oh, and Claimh Soras, you should just stay here and wait for us.” Somehow I got the feeling that a large wyvern walking around, knocking down trees, would get us spotted by even the most inattentive of orcs. First, we needed to see how many we were up against. The wyvern whined in disappointment, but it didn’t protest and followed my order without complaint. To show it I truly was sorry, I decided to stroke its scales once more time, then cast a furtive glance at Iria while doing so. Her eyes were already fixed on me, and our gazes met.
“What about you, Iria? Are you coming too? If you’d rather wait here with Claimh Soras, I don’t mind.”
“No. This is the village’s problem, and as a villager, it’d be irresponsible of me to stay behind.” There was a crease in her brow, but she seemed determined to come along. She walked up beside me. “Um, thank you,” she said to the wyvern timidly.
In response, Claimh Soras turned away disinterestedly, cold to other humans as always. Iria slumped her shoulders dejectedly.
“Don’t let it get to you,” I said. “It acts that way with pretty much everyone besides me.” And that female knight I’d met in the stable the other day. She’d been the only exception so far.
“I’m not bothered by it or anything,” Iria said, turning up her nose slightly. “More importantly, if we’re going to go, we ought to get a move on. If it gets too dark, we won’t be able to find much of anything.”
She walked away. I watched her retreating back, and once I was sure she wouldn’t notice, my lips curled up into a grin.