Chapter 15 : Nothing in life is free

…!

The chieftain interpreted Lena’s composure differently. Indeed, he’d been worrying needlessly. The girl before him was a true monster. The fear he felt toward her rivaled what he’d once sensed from a fleeting glimpse of a ruler-class monster—no, it was far more visceral.

The chieftain no longer dreaded a ruler-class monster’s appearance. He knew she wouldn’t lose.

“Then shall we discuss the most important thing?”

Lena grinned—a mischievous, toothy smile.

The chieftain blinked, thrown by the sudden shift in mood.

“Don’t play dumb. I’m not stupid. I won’t be taken advantage of.”

The chieftain was baffled. What was there to discuss? Beyond the looming threat of a ruler-class monster, what else mattered?

There was something.

“This, right here.”

Lena formed a circle with her index finger and thumb.

“We need to settle our accounts precisely.”

There’s no such thing as a free lunch.

[The player enters the main story!]
[Achieved certain conditions to enter the hidden route of the main story!]

[The Turmoil of the Great Forest]

The Cold Wind Orc Chieftain has requested your assistance.
You’ve accepted, but an inexplicable unease gnaws at you.
Somehow, you have a bad feeling.

The wind feels chilly, the atmosphere eerie, and an odd sense of misfortune lingers. Is this your imagination or reality? Whether you trust your gut or dismiss it as superstition is your choice.

※ Warning: There is a risk of a ruler-class monster appearing. Proceed with caution—this is a high-difficulty quest.
※ Tip for quest progress: Find allies.
Reward: Growth Points…

“Hehehe, euhehehe!”

The ‘Monster Serpent’ stirred awake to the sound of boisterous laughter.

“Finally found you! Python, ruler of the Great Forest!”

Who was this trash disturbing a sleeping serpent? As always, it was a human—a feeble race that kept stumbling into the Great Forest. The ruler-class monster, Python, quickly lost interest. Whatever those humans did in his presence didn’t matter. They could never harm him. It was an innate racial gulf.

In this hellscape called the Great Forest, Python reigned as the apex predator. The monsters capable of threatening him could be counted on one hand, and those ruler-class beings didn’t act recklessly. That’s why Python napped peacefully during this vulnerable post-molting phase—an expression of confidence that his life wasn’t at risk.

Being on edge and awake was a waste. Molting drained a serpent’s energy reserves. To recover, he needed to digest the prey stockpiled in his belly before the shed—a task demanding a long, uninterrupted slumber. He still had much sleep ahead.

Python closed his eyes, intent on resuming his nap.

“You wouldn’t know how much we suffered to face you! There were countless sacrifices! To spare even one more victim, we used the Red Rose Knights’ initiation ceremony! And after all that, only a handful of us survived!”

Those humans would be dealt with by lesser monsters without him lifting a scale. Human flesh—tender and flavorful—was coveted by many in the forest. Even bloodied and stale as they were, carrion-eaters wouldn’t mind.

“But now that we’ve found you, we’ve succeeded! The countless sacrifices for this day will be etched in history as noble martyrdom!”

…They buzzed like insects. Should he just kill them?

Python barely restrained himself. The mana he’d regain from devouring them wouldn’t offset the effort of moving.

“Now, Python! Become a sacrifice for our wishes!”

A massive magic circle flared to life in the air.

Magic? Such audacity.

Python couldn’t even muster a yawn. His magic resistance far exceeded what a mere circle could pierce. There was no need to react—the spell would shatter on its own, backfiring to kill the humans.

That complacency was his undoing.

Python’s body wasn’t at full strength; he was still recovering from molting. The unidentified magic struck that precise vulnerability. Black tendrils, crimson eyes, and an ominous mist coiled around his massive form, constricting him.

Shiaaaaa!

Python thrashed like a colt with its tail ablaze. As his colossal body flailed, his nest—a vast cave—rumbled and began to collapse.

“Ehehehe! Success!”

The humans, confirming the magic’s triumph, cackled maniacally before collapsing. They’d clung to life with battered bodies for this moment. With their goal achieved, they harbored no regrets.

Python’s bulk rolled over them, their laughter buried beneath the crumbling cave.

[Notice: Quest Scenario Changed]
[※ Warning: A ruler-class monster will definitely appear!]

Uwoooo!

A cry shook the air, startling the winged monsters of the Great Forest into flight.

Orcs were the most numerous monsters here—not due to strength, but their prolific reproduction. Scholars even called it their greatest asset. When an entire tribe’s warriors mobilized, their scale was staggering. United in a war cry, even the forest’s beasts steered clear.

Kruooo!

Soon, they’d clash with the Silverscale Lizardmen Tribe. Many tribesmen would die. The orcs didn’t care. Victory, defeat, odds—those were the chieftain’s burdens. The warriors simply fought until their lives burned out, reveling in battle’s thrill.

“Oh, were you giving a speech before the fight? Like a brigade commander’s pep talk before training?”

The orcs’ frenzied excitement plummeted at that playful voice—an unnatural shift, yet typical around her.

Lena’s eyes swept over them with innocent curiosity, like a child’s. The orcs focused on suppressing their shudders. They knew what kind of monster she was.

Dragon Fear—the dragon’s pressure—hadn’t just struck the chieftain and warleader. Every orc in the village that day had tasted that transcendent terror. Mere residue, scraps, yet an irresistible force to them.

Still, that monster was now their ally. Facing war, their fear morphed into reverence and trust. …They’d have felt easier if they didn’t know the price she demanded.

“Slurp. Ah, um, sorry. I have a lot of saliva; it leaks sometimes.”

How could she offer such a shameless excuse?

The orcs had seen it—her gaze locked on their necks. It was a predator sizing up prey, like a mosquito or bat targeting blood vessels beneath thick skin. She’d been that way since arriving, unwaveringly consistent.

“Aww, you won’t fall for it.”

Lena mumbled awkwardly. It wasn’t as if staring would wear them out—not physically, at least. Mentally, though, it was another story.

Her mercenary price? A lifetime supply of “beverages.” The chieftain had offered treasures and spells, but Lena wasn’t swayed. She’d looted gold and jewels from a dragon’s lair, and spells—while tempting—were just diluted magic to her.

What else could the orcs offer? Their bodies—specifically, their blood, her preferred sustenance.

Negotiations weren’t smooth. They resisted like a protest mob with towels around their heads. She only wanted periodic blood donations—like a blood drive—yet they acted as if she’d demanded their souls. Didn’t they know occasional bloodletting was healthy? (Lena wasn’t sure if that was science or pseudoscience.)

The compromise? She’d subjugated the orc tribe!

Lena still puzzled over how her drink request led to domination. But the chieftain had met his goal—a shrewd trade. In nature, the weak bowed to the strong. Ruler-class monsters didn’t take just any underling. Normally, he’d have begged her to claim them. Instead, he traded a few tribesmen—a fair deal, in his eyes.

The tribe accepted it quietly. Judging by their reactions to Lena, though, it was unclear if the chosen “sacrifices” would stay silent. The rest were content as long as it wasn’t them—a monstrous mindset.

“It’ll be over soon.”

Numbers were violence—a truth proven by armies wielding human waves as weapons. With this force, nothing was impossible. Neither Lena nor the orcs entertained defeat.

“You don’t fight on the front lines—hide and ambush.”

Kruong!

Badugi replied eagerly. Cowardly ambushes were the Wraith Wolf’s hunting forte. In the ruthless wild, cowardice was a virtue. He’d planned it even without her prompting.

“Okay, then let’s go…?”

That’s when it hit.

Hwoong—a storm-like wind roared through. A rumbling followed, vibrations shaking the earth. The orcs struggled to stand.

An earthquake? A landslide? No—different from a natural disaster.

“Did you split your forces elsewhere?”

The chieftain shook his head. This was the Cold Wind Tribe’s full strength. His limited wits couldn’t handle advanced tactics like dividing forces before a decisive battle.

“Then what is it?”

Lena perked her ears. Faintly, she caught it—the sound of combat.

“I don’t know. Let’s go!”

They’d find out when they arrived. Lena took the lead.