The Fire Mountain, situated at the southernmost edge of the Grand Sea, was not particularly high.
However, it occupied a strategic position, almost like a gateway to the inner reaches of the Grand Sea.
If one entered the gentle slopes of the Fire Mountain and ventured slightly further inward, a long, deep valley would appear as if the mountain’s mild incline were a lie.
On either side of the valley, sheer cliffs rose like jagged teeth, densely packed with all manner of bizarre rock formations.
If even a single section were to collapse, those positioned at the valley’s base would be annihilated without a chance of escape.
Atop the cliffs, Ian, Dane, and Silia carefully examined the terrain of the valley, leaving behind Ralph’s party, which had been deployed to engage the orcs.
“…Hmm.”
From the top of the cliff down to the bottom, Ian’s gaze gleamed as it reached the ground.
Having made his judgment, Ian slowly issued an order to Dane.
“Dane, set explosive spells on this side and the opposite cliff. Once I give the signal, make sure the stones can come crashing down.”
“…Impossible.”
Perhaps anticipating Ian’s plan to deal with the Red Fang Clan orcs, Dane shook his head slowly.
“So this is the plan… Using the terrain of this valley to eliminate the orcs. It’s not that the other strike teams of Muga ignored this place out of stupidity—they simply couldn’t make use of it.”
Indeed.
The cliffs lining the valley were immense, capable of annihilating the orcs entirely.
But to bring down such massive cliffs required an equally massive reservoir of magical power.
“To collapse cliffs of this scale… at least a fifth-class-level spell is needed.”
Such a precious resource, a fifth-class mage, could not be spared just to handle a group of orcs.
In fact, if a fifth-class mage were deployed, there would be no need to collapse the cliffs at all. Their own magic could incinerate all the orcs effortlessly.
The terrain demanded overinvestment to be put to use.
Hence, Dane could not help but doubt Ian’s plan.
This inexperienced commander, coming up with such rash, immature tactics, required a reality check.
“It’s not too late. Join up with Ralph and retreat…”
“What are you talking about?”
But Ian blinked in surprise at Dane’s words.
“…Huh?”
“Who do you think you’re talking to? How exactly are you planning to collapse this valley?”
“No, you just told me to drop the stones from the cliffs.”
“Yes, I did. Only part of it. But I wouldn’t ask a fledgling, barely third-class-level mage to bring down a valley of this size. That’s absurd.”
“…Strange. What you’re saying isn’t wrong, yet why does it feel so irritating?”
“Humans naturally feel uneasy when faced with a harsh truth. And besides…”
Swish!
Ian’s gaze shifted toward Silia, quietly observing beside Dane.
“If I intended to rely on such a crude method, I wouldn’t have brought Silia along.”
Ian’s eyes then turned toward the valley floor.
Perhaps due to the cliffs blocking sunlight for countless years, the ground was damp, soaked in moisture, almost like a swamp.
“We don’t have much time. If the orcs notice and start moving, they’ll reach here quickly. Move fast.”
It didn’t take long for the Red Fang Clan to realize that something was amiss in their village.
The orcs who had moved out for a shift change hadn’t returned, including Kuruk and Karak, who were supposed to come back immediately.
“Chiiik! This is strange. Something must’ve happened to Kuruk and Karak.”
“Chiiik! Report to the chieftain!”
For ordinary monsters—orcs common to this land—it might have taken longer to reach such a conclusion.
But the Red Fang Clan had lived by utilizing every possible tactic to survive the competitive scramble for territory around the Fire Mountain.
Among their methods was even mimicking the vigilance of humans. Over time, this allowed them to partially emulate human thought processes.
It was precisely this trait that enabled the Red Fang Clan to be selected by the Golden-Eyed Lord, the true king of orcs.
Unlike ordinary or foolish orcs who only knew fighting, they could think.
Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
At the heart of the Red Fang Clan village stood the largest and grandest log house.
Though only slightly larger than the other orc homes, to the orcs it symbolized strength and authority.
“Chiiik! Chieftain! The guards haven’t returned!”
Orcs shouted loudly in front of the chieftain’s house.
Perhaps sensing their emotions, the thick wooden doors of the chieftain’s log house creaked open.
Creeeak!
Boom, boom!
A massive orc, head taller than the rest, hunched slightly as he stepped outside.
On its back hung a bloodstained, menacing axe that had not yet been cleaned.
“…Noisy. I clearly told you to remove the snuffling sounds.”
The chilling tone in the chieftain’s voice seemed to make the orcs who had rushed to report turn pale.
“S-sorry, chieftain. The guards hadn’t returned, so we panicked and made a mistake.”
The orc behind seemed to have realized its error and stopped the snuffling.
Yet the chieftain of the clan, Uruk, did not relax his frown.
Though the snuffling had stopped, respect had yet to be restored.
Uruk wanted to split the heads of these uncivilized fools immediately, but the gravity of the situation forced him to restrain his hand from raising his axe.
“…They haven’t returned? Did the ones who left blow their horn?”
“Chiiik, no. Something must have happened.”
Uruk’s eyes cooled as he absorbed the orc’s response.
“…I see.”
Closing his eyes to contemplate the orcs’ report, Uruk thought for a moment before giving an order to the orc behind him.
“You, gather all the clan members here. It seems these intruders are rather troublesome.”
Had the original guards deserted, all this effort would have been futile—but Uruk judged that as highly unlikely.
Finally, under the banner of the Golden-Eyed Lord’s colossal force, Golden Sky, they could act.
No one with a spare life would dare target the Fire Mountain area.
Would anyone really desert under such perfect conditions?
Even the dumbest orcs would not make such a foolish choice.
In a survival-of-the-fittest world like the Grand Sea, for ordinary monsters like orcs to move alone was tantamount to suicide.
Thus, the conclusion from the orcs’ report was undeniable: Kuruk, Karak, and all those moving for the shift change had been killed.
Without so much as a chance to sound their horns.
Of course, this alone wasn’t sufficient reason for nearly 100 orcs in the village to be mobilized.
But still, Uruk had deployed an overwhelming number of forces for a reason.
“Heh, chieftain. Something interesting happening?”
A curious voice came from inside Uruk’s log house.
“…Nothing special. Just a few pesky rats causing trouble.”
Uruk’s guest, seated inside the cabin, would not tolerate showing panic at the intruders’ antics.
“Hmm, is that so? Fine. Then, let’s see you handle it well. Uruk, I have high expectations of you.”
“Of course. I’ll take a short walk first.”
Creeeak!
Leaving the whistling, chuckling guest behind, Uruk closed the log house doors.
Turning, he slowly stepped out of the cabin.
“Ah, well.”
As if recalling unfinished chores in his house, Uruk prepared himself.
Fwoooosh! Shick!
Blood, still wet on his axe, was added once more to the blade.
At the same time, the head of the orc who had snuffled previously was sent flying into the air.
“An uncivilized fool who hasn’t abandoned the beastly essence is of no use to the newly reborn Red Fang Clan.”
“…!!”
Uruk’s eyes flashed as he noticed the orc he had ordered to gather the village frozen in shock.
“Let me ask… Are you the kind of fool who needs the same order repeated twice to understand?”
“N-no, chieftain. I’ll quickly deliver your orders to the village.”
The orc spoke clearly in the common tongue.
For orcs, whose mouths made it difficult to avoid snuffling in speech, this was a feat made possible by their infinite attachment to life.
Thud-thud-thud!
Even before hearing Uruk’s response, the orc ran off. Uruk clicked his tongue.
“…Tch. Still far from done.”
In the Grand Sea, where the strong survived and the weak perished, the orc clan was among the weakest of monsters.
Yet the Golden-Eyed Lord was born as one of these frail orcs, and rose to dominate vast lands as a victor.
He would often gather the orcs under his command and say:
“Words shape both dignity and thought. Every species under my command, including orcs, must learn the continental common tongue.”
Under this order, Uruk had the orcs immediately correct their habits.
Though he had become chieftain of the Red Fang Clan, ruling the Fire Mountain area, Uruk had no intention of being satisfied with such a small achievement.
The Fire Mountain was only the beginning.
He would rise higher and reach even the Golden-Eyed Lord’s closest attendants.
Eventually, he would consume even the Lord’s position itself.
‘Perfect. I must show the other factions that my clan is no ordinary rabble.’
A crisis was an opportunity.
Handling this incident decisively would only further earn the Golden-Eyed Lord’s trust.
It would demonstrate that the Red Fang Clan was capable enough to oversee human borderlines.
As Uruk moved toward the gathering place of the clan’s orcs, the decapitated head of the orc who failed to correct its snuffling rolled slowly out of the cabin door.
“Ughhghghghgh!”
The guest stretched luxuriously, like a human.
Swish!
Picking up the severed orc head lying in front of the cabin, the guest tossed it aside casually.
“Hmm… Waiting here alone will be boring. Perhaps I’ll sneak a look around.”
Perhaps something interesting was about to unfold.
Step, step!
With all the Red Fang Clan orcs gone, the guest strolled leisurely through the now-empty village.
Perhaps because the village was now empty, Uruk’s movements were swift.
Seeing nearly a hundred fully armed orcs charging in one direction, any ordinary villagers near the border would have soiled themselves in terror.
“Chieftain! Here, I found it.”
Perhaps recalling the fate of the orc who snuffled and lost its head, the remaining orcs had mostly corrected their behavior.
Uruk quickened his pace at the shout.
His eyes fell upon the bodies of the fallen clan members.
The orcs who had moved out for the shift change lay butchered, scattered across the ground.
“Hmm…”
Uruk’s gaze quickly scanned the corpses.
Heads split from crown to chin, chests diagonally cleaved.
Signs of struggle were scattered about.
Apparently, a fairly fierce fight had taken place.
‘…Not impressive.’
The intruders had only clashed with the village guards.
Uruk, having led all the clan members present in the village, felt slightly amused at the intruders’ efforts.
“Where were the corpses of the original guards found?”
“Chii… A bit further over there, sir.”
Ssshhh!
The orcs carefully presented the bodies of Kuruk and Karak, who had been on watch, breaking up their speech to avoid snuffling.
Kuruk lay dead, an arrow through his forehead.
He must have let his guard down completely and been killed instantly in an ambush, unable to react.
‘Trash.’
Uruk’s eyes gleamed as he kicked Kuruk’s corpse aside and turned to examine Karak’s body.
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