WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

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◈ Omniscient First-Person's Viewpoint

Chapter 522

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The Hunting Dog Who Caught the Wolf

Orcma had once conquered Oberli. Unable to deal with the problems that followed in time, though, they ultimately collapsed. It seemed Orcma would simply dissolve.

But Gruel's presence drew the pig-kin together. He negotiated with Sapien, absorbed Orcma's organization whole, and turned its structure to use in the war against the King of Wolves.

Gruel was a powerful being who had reached the principle, and at the same time the glory of the pig-kin. Not only Orcma, but ordinary pig-kin who had nothing to do with Orcma idolized him. He had been the only one shielding them from Oberli's public officials and various powers, so even Orcma had no choice but to follow him.

Gruel sought out Urukpaing. Urukpaing had led the mercenaries and marched alongside the Beast Faction warriors, and he was staggering now, worn ragged by the grueling campaign. He looked completely spent, but Gruel walked straight up to him without a second thought.

"Urukpaing! You've worked hard fighting the wolves beside us, but I need a little more from you!"

"Hah, hah. Not at all, Gruel-ssi. It was an honor to fight at your side!"

"You have more talent with energy than anyone I haven't personally trained. No one taught you, either. Having an orc like you around is truly reassuring."

"N-not at... all...! Hng. Truly... the honor is mine...!"

Overcome with emotion, Urukpaing made a sniffly sound and headed off to shift rubble.

People thought of Gruel as a rough wild one, but you cannot hold the title of great patriarch of the Beast Faction on strength alone. Gruel was just as skilled at handling people.

A word of praise here, a warning there. Working the leash with a mix of cajoling and soothing, he kept the pig-kin working without pause.

"I can hear a voice inside! Everyone! Get over here!"

"One, two, heave!"

The pig-kin had numbers. And numbers, on their own, are a kind of brute force. Dozens of pig-kin hauled stones, sniffed out survivors, cleared wreckage, and pulled the buried free.

"They're alive! Thank you for sav..."

"...Come out."

The Oberli guard-dogs who had been trapped in the darkness for hours looked at the pig-kin who had rescued them and felt a grudging gratitude. Just as Gruel had wanted.

An external threat binds an internal divide. Whatever resentment lingered, the memory of standing on the same battlefield would remain.

"I've mixed Orcma and the pig-kin together thoroughly enough. It won't be easy for anyone to tell who's Orcma and who's just pig-kin anymore."

Even as he worked, he was always reading the situation and thinking two steps ahead. Gruel looked more like a businessman than a warrior. Scanning to see if anything was lacking, he spotted some laborers grunting and struggling before an enormous boulder.

"Good. Then I suppose I'll put on a bit of a show myself."

Gruel rolled his shoulders and began clearing rubble.

In the middle of that, he spotted a pig-kin boy who looked vaguely familiar, the boy he had run into at the garbage dump when he first arrived in Ende.

He had accepted volunteers of all ages before the fight against the wolves, but he hadn't expected to have dragged along a slum boy like this one. Gruel walked over.

"Hey, kid."

"Yes? Oh, Gruel-nim..."

The boy had been rolling a stone and froze the moment he saw Gruel, unsure what to do with himself. Gruel looked him over. The quilted leather armor and the spear in his hand made it plain he had come as a soldier.

"Who brought you to the battlefield?"

This was a boy who had barely been scraping by in the slums. He would never have stepped forward on his own unless someone had conscripted him by force. That was what Gruel thought as he asked, but the boy averted his eyes and answered.

"I... I volunteered."

"I see. And who told you to say that?"

"It's the truth. I went myself and said I wanted to fight. Orcma asked me to fight for the pig-kin."

"Orcma?"

"Yes. Orcma gave me... meat."

The boy's face reddened at the thought of having been won over by something as simple as meat. Gruel waited in silence. The boy pushed himself to continue.

"It was the first time I'd ever eaten something like that in my life... And they said if things went well, my family could taste it too. So I came along."

"You turned down my offer, but you risked your life over a bit of meat? On a promise Orcma made, no less?"

"...Yes."

If the boy had had courage, he would have accepted Gruel's offer. If he had been wise, he would not have joined this battle at all.

But the boy had neither courage nor wisdom. A bit of meat, a promise from Orcma, and he had volunteered before he could think twice.

Yet how could anyone blame him, or mock him for it. A pig-kin, or rather, a slum boy of that age, could not help being foolish and impulsive.

Not everyone could be as strong as Gruel. Not everyone had the luxury of standing back and observing with a wide eye.

But it had not taken much for the boy to pick up a weapon and stand.

"You'll get what you want. I promise you that."

Gruel gave the boy's shoulder a firm clap and stood. His resolve had always been as solid as rock, but meeting the boy had made it harder still.

Sapien approached him then, carrying news that was not particularly pleasant.

"Gruel. I need to talk to you."

"Say it."

"Orcma. It looks like you want to credit them for their contributions and let their crimes go unaddressed."

"And?"

He didn't deny it. The message was clear: you've got it exactly right, so what are you going to do about it. Sapien read the implication and spoke plainly.

"That is not possible. They violated not only Ende's rules but the vassal state's laws on a significant scale. They cannot simply pass through as if nothing happened just because they did their duty."

"What about me?"

"You are an outsider, not a citizen of Ende. The same rules cannot apply to you. And you have the merit of defeating the King of Wolves."

"Then banish Orcma yourselves. I'll take them in."

Sapien shook his head at the suggestion of lumping merit and fault together.

"Everyone knows that for the sleight of hand it is. If you want a clean resolution, pick some of the Orcma leadership."

"To kill them?"

"I'll do my best to avoid that."

"You mean to hand them to the vassal state. As captured rebel ringleaders."

"..."

I'll do my best meant this was outside even Sapien's reach as Ende's public official, which meant handing them to the vassal state. Gruel laughed under his breath.

"Tell them you tried. The vassal state isn't so undignified that it would demand what's beyond your ability."

"Everyone knows we cooperated with you. Words alone won't settle this."

Politics is a battle over justification. Gruel understood that. But Gruel intended to shoulder the pig-kin.

He stretched his muscles and rose.

"Then I'll settle it with action. Let's fight. I'll beat you without killing you. The vassal state will understand that much."

Fighting spirit poured off Gruel's entire body. Sapien stepped back when he realized Gruel was serious.

"You'd defy the vassal state? You'd throw away all the credit from fighting the wolves?"

"Not throw it away. Prove it."

"What?"

Gruel turned toward the speechless Sapien and murmured, recalling the past.

"We proved we can go further."

Gruel had originally been from Ende. Like any other orc, he had grown up digging through garbage dumps.

But what set him apart from other orcs was that he had fought to escape his circumstances.

To the southeast of the Enger Plain, on the old lands of the Kingdom of Ten Thousand, the treasures of a dead nation lay sleeping. Adventurers after those treasures passed through Ende on their way to the ruins of the Kingdom of Ten Thousand. Harsh terrain, deadly beasts, and the wicked remnants left behind by a fallen kingdom all lurked there, but it was also a land of opportunity, hiding all manner of elixirs and treasures.

Gruel decided to use being pig-kin as an advantage. He reached out to the Beast Faction pig-kin, the descendants of old orcs wandering the plains, and earned their trust. Ende, which touched civilization, was a place where curiosity and envy coexisted for them as well. He shared information about Ende, made introductions, and took on the role of middleman.

Then he used the Beast Faction as guides and helped adventurers. Those arriving in Ende who had been quietly searching for guides received far safer journeys with local nomadic tribes to show them the way. Gruel and his tribe were sometimes attacked for having changed so much from what they once were, but regardless, with Gruel at the center they prospered greatly. After every other candidate for chief either died or fled, Gruel finally became chief.

He learned energy from adventurers and took elixirs recovered from the ruins of the Kingdom of Ten Thousand. He overcame countless dangers and claimed it all greedily for himself, and he ultimately reached the principle.

After the wolf pack rose to dominance on the Enger Plain, his trade dried up and he found himself on the run, but.

"The glory of the pig-kin. Funny thing to say, but I thought of myself as glorious too. So I kept foolishly feeling disappointed in my own kind for failing to seize chances the way I had. But coming here, I decided to think about it differently."

"About what?"

"I'll be the chance for them."

He would not bungle it the way Orcma had. So if Orcma couldn't do it, he would do it himself.

Gruel declared it with full confidence. Sapien answered with a darkened expression.

"Gruel. Have you ever failed at anything?"

"Nothing comes to mind."

"That's what I thought. But remember this, fortune does not always smile on you."

Sapien's abilities might fall short of Gruel's. That was perhaps why Sapien had learned resignation far faster than Gruel. Sadly, when it came to knowing one's limits, Sapien was far ahead.

"Because absurdity can come at any time."

"The Five Tiger Generals? Who?"

A merchant guild's backing is built on trust. A guild's senior agent does not report falsehoods. Deceiving others is said to be the foundation of commerce, but every one who faithfully upheld that foundation burned brightly for a moment and then vanished. Only the Seven Guilds that shone steadfast like the Big Dipper in the night sky held their ground.

"The Black Tiger General, Linked Blade Marquis Lapaeno. The Black Tiger Corps he leads and the state-licensed mercenary companies. I cannot disclose specific numbers or strength, it is confidential by contract."

"Lapaeno...? The one who uses a rapier? Why would he...?"

"By contract I cannot disclose military purpose."

Agent Moore answered briefly. But saying she could not disclose it meant she did know. The regressor could at least speculate.

"It must be because of the King of Wolves. From the vassal state's perspective, they'd have had no guarantee Ende could handle it properly. If they called in state-licensed mercenaries, they were in a hurry."

'Last time when the rebellion broke out, they didn't spare Ende a glance. Guess having it happen before the rebellion gave them a bit of breathing room. And we ended up catching the King of Wolves ourselves.'

If the King of Wolves had won, there was a good chance the vassal state itself would be threatened. In that case, it was better to dispatch an army before Ende completely collapsed and take down the King of Wolves. A very rational, sensible conclusion.

But Agent Moore said nothing.

The world was apparently not that rational or sensible.

"Your identity is guaranteed by the violet merchant guild. However, I am informing you in advance that fulfillment of the contract may be slightly delayed at the Five Tiger General's discretion."

"Understood. Is that what you came to say?"

Agent Moore did not answer. Instead she turned the bracelet on her wrist. At that moment a wind rose from somewhere, her cloak spread open like a sail, and she moved carried by the wind. Agent Moore skimmed just above the ground like a swallow and was gone.

"A wind-sail. Wearing something expensive."

"She's a senior agent of the violet merchant guild. She'd have plenty of things far more expensive than that. More to the point, Marquis Lapaeno..."

"Do you know him?"

"He's a master who reached the principle. I know a little. Linked Blade Lapaeno. Famous for winning the Colosseum's Hundred-Year Tournament, earning the title of Grandmaster Duelist, and mastering all twenty-four forms of the Vulcan Battle Manual."

He must be formidable. A master who had reached the principle and one of the vassal state's Five Tiger Generals at that. That much everyone knew.

"What about his personality and character?"

The regressor rested her chin in her hand and thought for a while before answering.

"Uh... arrogant? But that applies to most masters."

"Ah. So even among arrogant masters, he's especially arrogant."

"Is that how it comes across? Still, he's a general. I wouldn't have thought his personality would cause actual trou... ble?"

Even the regressor's words lacked conviction, probably because she had seen too many cases where personality ruined things. Herself included, naturally.

"Hmm. I don't like the sound of it."

"Yeah, something feels... off, doesn't it."

The regressor was like an animal in the best sense of the word. She could be slow on the uptake, but she read situations through instinct before reason.

The fact that the agent had come for no apparent reason, and that Marquis Lapaeno had marched on Ende at such an odd moment, the regressor felt a strange, nagging unease.

And the regressor's instincts proved correct.

According to the information gleaned from reading Agent Moore's thoughts, Marquis Lapaeno had not marched out to help Ende.

The age of war decided by sheer numbers was over. A single master who had reached the principle could comfortably handle a hundred opponents of a lower tier. That said, throwing a master in to be surrounded by a hundred enemies was foolish. Scouting, mobility, supply, encirclement, the standard military doctrine was to attach a fast, functional unit to support the core fighting strength.

Marquis Lapaeno's force followed that doctrine faithfully.

Mounted cavalry who had all trained in energy could ride three days and nights without tiring, and the state-licensed magic corps handled supply and logistics perfectly with only a handful of personnel. Add one mage and one master to that, and it was a force of strategic weight on its own.

The organization was a little rough around the edges for being hastily assembled, but the fighting strength itself was intact. As quickly as it had been formed, Marquis Lapaeno's force arrived in Ende.

They had been a little late for the fight against the wolves, but that was a very minor matter.

"Hm. So this is Ende."

A robust-looking middle-aged man with a magnificent curled mustache entered Ende. When hundreds of armed soldiers came calling it should have caused some stir in the city, but with so many citizens having left in preparation for the fight against the wolves, there was almost no reaction.

Marquis Lapaeno stroked the curled tip of his mustache and offered his impressions.

"Filthy as the rumors said, but not as loud as the rumors said. Hahaha. Still, I suppose I'll need to find at least one person in this cesspit who can hold a conversation."

Fortunately, word of Marquis Lapaeno's arrival reached Oberli. And in Oberli, the public officials who had barely reclaimed their authority remained.

Among them, the one who came out to welcome Marquis Lapaeno was Duke Erectus, public official of Ende. He brought a small retinue and received the Marquis at the city's main gate.

"It is an honor to meet Marquis Lapaeno, Five Tiger General and shield of the vassal state. I, public official Erectus, welcome you on behalf of all the citizens of Ende."

"Ahem. Hmm."

Marquis Lapaeno paused to collect his words, then nudged his adjutant and asked.

"Who is that? I'm not too familiar with the frontier power map."

Knowing the power structure so as to avoid any accidental offense was part of a general's staff work. The adjutant, who had come having studied Ende in advance, informed Marquis Lapaeno.

"That is Duke Erectus."

"Duke? A duke in a city this small?"

"Strictly speaking, he differs somewhat from a standard duke. After Saint Enger ascended having left behind three descendants, the Empire designated the Enger Plain as a margraviate in his honor. About two hundred years later, in the process of ceding the Enger Plain to the vassal state, a portion became Lilac Duchy territory, but Ende alone remained a margraviate. Therefore..."

"Hmm. Enough. He's a paper duke, is he? This is exactly why I hate the frontier. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry is sporting a ducal title."

It was true, but coming with that much preparation didn't mean one was supposed to say it out loud. And of all places to use an expression like "every Tom, Dick, and Harry," in Ende. The adjutant issued a quiet caution.

"Still, it is the land where Saint Enger planted his flag. Please be mindful of your words and actions."

"Ah, right, yes."

And their entire exchange had carried straight to Duke Erectus.

Being able to use Voice Transmission but choosing to speak aloud was a declaration that he would not bother with courtesy at all. It was rudeness bordering on a declaration of war, but who could dare check him.

Marquis Lapaeno did not particularly concern himself with his own discourtesy.

"I heard the general outline on my way here. Right. You've defeated the King of Wolves?"

"...According to reports, yes."

"Well, well. It would be a shame for the Lords of All Creation to lose to a mere pack of beasts! Ah, this city has beast-ears living in it, does it? Not bad for beast-ears! I should commend them!"

"It was a result achieved by everyone together."

"Ah, quite right! Commending beast-ears, that was a slip of the tongue! The credit goes to the one who handled the beast-ears well! Hahaha!"

He laughed loudly as though he had told a splendid joke, then waved a hand.

"Well, never mind all that. That's not the point. If the wolves are gone, let's move on to the next matter."

"And what would the next matter be."

The Marquis smiled, looking genuinely interested for the first time, and asked.

"Where is Gruel?"

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