Chapter 13 : A battle of wits

“Watch Out!”

“Ugh!”

Along with the warning, a fountain of blood splattered and soaked the young man’s back.

Startled by the unpleasant sensation, he froze, then turned horrified.

A monster lay right behind him.

The axe in its hand was larger than a human head.

If his companion hadn’t intervened, that axe would have smashed his skull.

A chilling sensation swept over his skin as he realized he’d narrowly escaped death.

“Th-thank you.”

“This isn’t the time for that yet.”

His companion brought his sword down on the fallen orc’s head.

The orc convulsed briefly before going still.

It had been playing dead.

The young man recalled a story he’d heard about orcs:
“Berserkers mad for battle. They say they’ll fight even if they only have the strength to twitch a finger—nasty bastards.”

“Our senior knight warned us the orcs in the Great Forest are worse, didn’t he? ‘Never let your guard down until you’re sure they’re dead.’ Didn’t you hear him?”

“Yeah, he said that. Damn it.”

The young man dragged his weary body forward and stabbed each fallen orc through the heart with his sword.

Only then could he slump down to rest.

“I’m so tired I could die.”

“You’ll really die if you don’t stay sharp like you just did.”

“Tell me about it.”

They were novice knights of the Red Rose Knights, undergoing their initiation: survive three days in the Great Forest.

Even with preparation, the reality was brutal.

“By my reckoning, it feels like three days have passed already.”

“The first day isn’t even over yet.”

“No one can survive a place like this.”

The Great Forest was a place unfit for human life—a truth they’d heard often, untainted by exaggeration.

“To run into a pack of orcs right at the start—and this is supposed to be the safer entrance?”

“These are just scouts at best. Deeper in, they swarm in numbers that make this look trivial. If we hit the tribe’s main force… it’d be a nightmare.”

They shuddered at the thought.

That kind of disaster was beyond a rookie knight’s ability to handle.

Even if all the initiates banded together, could they win?

This single skirmish had been dangerous enough—and that was with them paired up.

“And even these orcs aren’t fit to be called rulers of the area.”

Humanity recognized seven ruler-class monsters in the Great Forest.

Could they even scratch one, no matter how long they trained?

It felt like staring at an insurmountable wall.

“Stop with the depressing talk. They say ruler-class monsters don’t leave the forest’s depths, right? We’ll probably never face one, even as lifelong knights.”

“Now that you mention it, wasn’t there one initiate who went deep into the Great Forest?”

Their senior knight had advised them to pair up for the three-day trial.

Surviving alone would never be easy.

Everyone had partnered up, except for one who volunteered to go solo.

With an odd number of initiates, the others hadn’t objected—it was convenient.

But then she’d left the designated area and ventured deeper.

No one understood her reckless courage.

Did she join the Red Rose Knights just to find a place to die?

“Don’t worry. No matter how unlucky she is, she won’t run into a ruler-class monster, right? At worst, maybe the orc tribe’s main force we mentioned.”

“You say that like it’s nothing! We’d be dead meat against that too.”

“True, but should we be worrying about her right now? We’re the ones in deep trouble.”

“…Tell me about it.”

Could they complete this initiation and survive?

Their worries deepened with each passing moment.

“Oh, so this is your home.”

Lena mentally mapped out the orcs’ residence.

It was more a village than a house.

Orcs were classified as monsters but fell under the broader category of demi-humans.

Demi-human: a race resembling humans.

Humans are social creatures, living in groups.

Orcs were no different.

They lived in tribal societies, reminiscent of humanity’s primitive days, grunting like beasts in their collectives.

“You guys are living well…?”

Lena surveyed the orc village with curiosity.

She’d expected crude huts slapped together with mud, but they were surprisingly civilized.

Roughly, the orcs’ homes resembled the shacks she’d built in her early, unskilled days.

No—on closer inspection, they were more meticulously crafted.

Kruheueu!

Orcs at the village entrance sneered at her.

Her wide-eyed gawking made her seem like a country bumpkin stumbling into a city.

That’s how they saw her: a barbaric, beastly wretch.

Just marvel at our superior civilization.

The truth, however, was the opposite.

To Lena, orcs were like monkeys, to draw a comparison.

Bipedal, tool-using monkeys?

They tried, but they teetered on the edge of humanity.

Yet here they were—monkeys building houses and living in tribes!

Back in her hometown, this would’ve been a jaw-dropping spectacle.

“Why’re you all welcoming me like this?”

Lena noticed the orcs’ stares fixed on her.

A crowd had gathered.

Bustling and swarming, it seemed the entire tribe had come out.

All this just to see me, huh?

It reminded her of fans mobbing an airport to glimpse a celebrity.

Awkward now that she was the center of attention.

“Uh, um, yes. I’m your savior.”

Lena put on a bold face and waved.

The orcs, tense and some sneering, hardly looked like a welcoming party.

So what? Am I supposed to be scared? Me?

She was an honored guest, invited by their leader on bended knee.

That was her confidence.

Even if it was a trap, so what?

If things went south, she’d slaughter them all and turn them into juice taps.

That might even be more tempting… tsk.

The orcs shivered under her gaze.

Staring at her neck, swallowing hard—what else could you expect?

To them, she was the monster.

Though orcs were a brutal, battle-hungry race, they weren’t mindless.

They only picked fights they could win.

They didn’t want to die pointlessly.

Puheueu!

“Ah, yeah, yeah. I get it. I’ll hurry up.”

The leader asserted himself, snapping Lena back to her purpose.

Having unintentionally won the staring contest, she followed him closely.

He led her to the village’s deepest point—a building twice the size of the others.

She brushed past a cloth hanging in place of a door and stepped inside.

The interior, lined with massive pillars, resembled a corridor.

Walls and ceilings of woven stone and rough wood bore the deep marks of time, evoking an ancient fortress.

It radiated a world of raw, primal power.

The sharp stench of beasts hit her nose.

Smoke from burning unknown herbs wafted across the floor.

Tapestries of patched leather and cloth, hunting tools, and weapons hung haphazardly.

Every step, she tripped over something—meat, fruit, bones.

Lena’s face twisted in disgust.

Filthy bastards. Ever heard of cleaning?

Leaving food scraps like this would attract bugs.

Was the smoke to mask the mess?

Clever, hiding it from sight—but the trash remained.

What else could you expect from monkey-tier creatures?

Good thing she’d left Badugi behind, unsure if pets were allowed.

He’d have buried his snout in the floor, scavenging.

No matter how well she’d trained her mutt, she couldn’t stand him eating garbage off the ground.

Thud!

“Ah, I know, I know. I zoned out for a sec.”

This guy kept giving her looks.

Annoying, but she couldn’t complain—it was her fault.

Lena brushed off the leader’s elbow jabbing her side and fixed her gaze ahead.

An orc sat on a chair crafted from bones, not wood.

Wow, that physique.

The leader beside her was burly, but this guy made him look puny.

Those shoulders—natural, or juiced?

She half-suspected steroids.

Words hovered above his head: Cold Wind Orc Chieftain.

Then it clicked.

“What, you’re not the boss of the tribe?”

She’d assumed the leader was distinct, calling him that from the start.

But the real one was here.

“Oh, so you’re the warleader. Wait—you’re the chieftain’s son? Wow, a nepotism pick.”

The leader’s status didn’t prejudice her.

Nepotism was what it was.

Back home, a game company thrived thanks to a skilled nepotism hire.

This orc warleader had the build and ability to back it up.

Hmph!

The chieftain cleared his throat, visibly irked by Lena’s tangents.

“Hm?”

But his expression stiffened as Lena’s eyes gleamed, catching him off guard.

Her body tensed instinctively.

So that’s it. She acts scatterbrained, then baits me into a fight.

Beasts were like that.

Even in cooperation, they vied for dominance.

Knowing her game, the chieftain couldn’t act first—he’d lose face.

He rose, ready to meet her challenge.

Lena grinned and strode toward him.

The air thickened, tense enough to burst with a nudge.

She reached him, walked past, and plopped into the chair.

“…?”

“Ahh, comfy.”

The chieftain bristled but stayed wary.

She’s a sly monster.

This could be a ploy to drop his guard.

“When a guest arrives, offer a seat. I was wondering when you’d move—I’ve been standing forever.”

Lena had no hidden agenda.

Guests sit, hosts stand—simple etiquette.

If there’s one chair, the host yields it.

Bumpy and odd, but like a massage—kinda nice?

“Alright, spill it. What help do you want?”

Lena sprawled on the skull chair like it was her own lounge.