Chapter 5: Cursed Orcs and a Life on the Line

The weak little orc went down without much trouble.

It tripped over its own balance after swinging a stick at Black-Masked Man, landing flat on its face. No effort from me at all.

“Creeeeek! Curse… you curse-user!”

The orc’s eyes went wide as it muttered “curse-user,” crawling backward to put some distance between itself and Black-Masked Man.

So magic and curses actually exist here, huh. I’d experienced systems and physical ability boosts before, but I had no clue about stuff like magic. Seeing this scared little orc, I had a feeling it wasn’t superstition—it was real.

“You planning to eat me? Or maybe pop my eyes out as a sacrifice?!”

The trembling orc swung its stick at Black-Masked Man again and shouted.

Black-Masked Man just looked at it without expression, grabbed it by the back of its neck, and carried it over to me.

Thud—

“P-please… just spare me! I’ve got starving tribe members depending on me! If I die, they won’t survive long!”

Okay, that was a new one. Usually, it’s a clever wife and a bunch of kids, or maybe starving villagers. Well, I guess that’s the same thing. But… an orc talking about starving tribe members? Interesting.

I sized up the orc. Its face was gaunt, arms and legs thin like it hadn’t eaten in forever, and its right leg was completely bare up to the knee, making it hard to move.

“You don’t look like you’ll last long even if I let you live,” I said.

“…Until the great warrior Hessen comes, I’ll protect my people. Even if I have no strength,” the orc said, bowing its head a little in shame but continuing calmly.

“So please… spare me. I’ll repay you somehow,” it added.

What should I do? At first, I thought it was just a dumb, sneaky orc, but hearing it talk about protecting its people, I could tell it was sincere.

Part of me wanted to let it live. But… there’s no one you can trust in this world, and leaving loose ends is stupid.

Just as I reached for my dagger, a hologram popped up in front of me.

[Sub Error! Savior of Silviden Village]

The orcs kicked out of the fortress live in Silviden Village, which is facing extreme food shortages and other dangers. Help Budachi overcome the crisis!

[Starving Orc Survival {0/138}]

[Stop Empire Invasion {0/1}]

Reward: Red Awakening, “Orc Great Warrior Hessen” Favor Increase

[Accept/Decline]

Wow… Eve definitely has a mind of its own. Offering a Red Awakening as a reward just like that… unbelievable.

‘Well, if it’s giving me something, no reason to say no.’

I hit “Accept” with the same hand that was reaching for my dagger and grinned.

“So that’s the story! Why didn’t you say earlier? What do you need?”

“Is this human crazy? Changed all of a sudden… is this real? Or… are you just trying to trick me into a pot?”

The orc was actually talking politely? I expected it to be crude.

I could just stab it in the neck and fail the quest…

Nope. They say patience pays off. Let’s just laugh it off.

“If that’s the case, no need to beg. Just grab it yourself from the back of its neck, little orc,” I said.

“True… well then… this really is pure goodwill?”

“Yeah. Heavy to carry? Where’s your village? I’ll specially move it for you.”

I helped the orc up and brushed the dirt off its clothes. Then I confidently walked toward Mishkentul’s body to lift it, but Black-Masked Man stopped me. He blocked me with his arm and easily lifted Mishkentul’s corpse onto his shoulder.

“Cursed user, huh,” the orc muttered.

What’s the deal with curse-users and strength anyway?

Maybe in this world, a curse-user is some kind of super-hex-human?

“No, I’m just a human. Stop calling ordinary people curse-users,” I said, tapping my finger at the orc.

“I’ll guide you. Today your tribe will eat well,” I added.

The orc glanced at Mishkentul’s corpse and me, still unsure if it could trust me.

“Our tribe… we can’t be used as slaves. Mostly old and sick ones. So if you have bad intentions, better quit now,” the orc said.

“No, I don’t! No curses, no slavery. I just… really want to help you,” I insisted.

The orc and Black-Masked Man both stared at me with narrowed eyes.

Is it that hard to believe I’m genuinely helping? Even Black-Masked Man seems skeptical… I didn’t like that.

“Fine… better than letting you starve,” the orc finally said, resigned.

Ridiculous. I bit back a retort and just nodded.

“Phew… let’s go.”

Before Mishkentul chased me, I’d observed all kinds of monsters. Goblins are smart but not too intelligent. Orcs, though… human-level brains. They think, judge, and act, not just follow instincts. They have loyalty, even low-quality jokes, and reason.

Taking on an orc is way harder than goblins. Not just brainpower—physically, they’re beasts. Just looking at their muscles, you can tell they could bench press over 500 easily. Top-tier monster strength. But age affects them too.

“Human! A human!”

“How’s a human here… is that Budachi? Were they taken as a hostage?!”

I had to wonder… does my face look that scary? If it were my old face, would people treat me like this?

‘What the heck… does Shindoyoon’s face look that terrifying? Everywhere I go, people are on edge. Human siren or what?’

Or is it because of the guy beside me?

I glanced at Black-Masked Man—black clothes, black mask, black hair. Not a ninja from the shadows, just dressed suspiciously and threateningly in broad daylight.

“Grandpa, I got the hunt! Look! Everyone can eat their fill!”

Wait… that’s not what you hunted, that’s mine, little orc. I shook my head at the way it twisted the story.

“You mean Budachi? You’re saying you hunted that human?”

“Sort of,” the little orc said, scratching its head awkwardly.

“You had help from a human. Don’t know if I’d trust them, but they’re decent,” it added.

Soon, the older orcs around us were whispering.

“They say a human helped Budachi. Humans can’t be trusted…”

“But some humans are different.”

“Better observe first. Doesn’t seem hostile. Hmm… smells like meat. Haven’t smelled this in ages.”

The last one seemed to side with us because of the food. What a greedy little thing.

“I’ll check it out,” a sharp voice said.

“Ah, the shaman,” someone noted.

The orcs surrounding us parted. Through the gap, an elderly female orc, wrinkled and leaning on a walking stick, stepped out.

She looked me over carefully and muttered,

“Hmm… this one’s not dangerous. Seems more like trying to shield from the wind and rain.”

My eyes went wide.

Mind-reading? Or some special method?

“That one… hmm? Who are you?”

The shaman’s eyes went wide at Black-Masked Man.

“No way…”

Black-Masked Man just stared quietly, while she trembled and muttered some incomprehensible words.

“Nothing… nothing… no, it’s nothing…”

Her gaze softened. She stepped back, calm again.

“Let them in. Treat them as guests.”

The shaman’s reaction was… weird.

Black-Masked Man… did she see something in him? Something linked to why he can’t talk?

I glanced at him silently. I’d figure it out eventually. As long as he’s not a threat, it’s fine.

Feeling a little uneasy, I stepped into the village.

The central open space, surrounded by hut-like houses, smelled thickly of cooked meat.

Old orcs, orcs with body issues, and a few warriors were happily eating, enjoying a rare feast.