NOVEL NEXT Ch. 33
Chapter 33. Please Become Our Neighbor (1)
In fact, Patrick and Turanta were looking at each other in a state of considerable surprise.
‘Not bad. I've heard about them being a race of warriors and all, but I didn't know they'd be this strong. He's much stronger than Red, isn't he?’
In Patrick's view, the Orc chieftain named Turanta was a formidable warrior.
So much so that if he were to fight one-on-one with Red, the master of the Thieves' Guild, he would win overwhelmingly.
For one, his physical frame was so fantastic that one could only call it insane.
All the Orcs he had seen on the way had physical frames far superior to humans, but this chieftain named Turanta was a cut above even them.
It was a body that seemed as if it were intentionally crafted to learn the martial way.
The aura that naturally flowed from that perfectly trained body was also considerable.
‘Strong. Quite something.’
Patrick purely acknowledged Turanta's abilities.
However, Patrick's honest admiration was nothing compared to the shock Turanta was feeling.
‘How can he be like that?’
Turanta was not as sensitive to ki as Patrick, nor did he have knowledge and insight into the martial arts.
But his insight, forged through numerous real battles and innate instinct, sensed danger the moment he saw Patrick.
From this young human who showed no hostility whatsoever.
Herbivores instinctively know the danger of carnivores that see them as prey, even without being taught.
Turanta felt as if he had become an overwhelmingly weaker being.
It had been decades since he had felt this way.
It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in decades, except for when he faced his father, the previous chieftain, back when he was still a young warrior.
Turanta looked Patrick straight in the eyes and said.
“I welcome the visit of a great warrior. Patrick.”
“Ahem, thank you for the welcome. But Chieftain. Did you hear why I came here?”
Was it because he was acknowledged?
A little bit of politeness, albeit very slight, seeped into Patrick's crooked and rude attitude.
And Turanta spoke.
“I heard you would help in the decisive battle against the King Ogre.”
“That is correct. I heard from Tutan over there that the Orcs intend to fight the King Ogre. But that you have no chance of winning.”
“We fight even if we have no chance of winning. A warrior does not flee.”
“Well, setting aside that frustrating belief for a moment….”
Warrior or not, if it's dangerous, you should run.
Does a warrior have two or three lives?
That's what Patrick wanted to say, but he didn't.
Because he knew well how difficult and arduous it is to persuade people who are armed with their own beliefs like this.
And Patrick's purpose in coming all this way was not persuasion, in fact.
“Although we have settled a little way from here, we are also neighbors who live on the same land as the Red Rock Tribe.”
“I know. If you go to the outskirts, there is a country of humans. Are you the king?”
“No, not the king….”
“Then are you a servant of the king?”
“Well, strictly speaking, it's not me, but my father who is a servant of the king.”
Patrick's social status was gradually declining.
“Come to think of it, our Young Master is nothing, socially.”
“He has no power. He's just the young son of a noble family, right?”
“He hasn't even had his coming-of-age ceremony, so he's just a brat….”
The soldiers chattering in the back hurriedly averted their gazes when Patrick looked back.
‘I'll deal with you guys later.’
Patrick, who had given the soldiers a warning with his eyes, spoke to Turanta.
“What is a neighbor, traditionally? Isn't a neighbor someone who helps out and stays together in difficult times?”
“Is that so?”
“Of course. And when I heard through Tutan that a great disaster had befallen the Red Rock Tribe, I immediately resolved that I must go and help.”
“You will help us?”
“Yes. That is correct.”
“Hmm….”
Turanta pondered.
The human named Patrick himself seemed extremely strong.
He couldn't gauge it, but it was certain that he was at least stronger than himself.
Although the humans behind him were nothing special, it seemed that even if just this one young monster joined the battle, a small hope would arise in this desperate war.
However….
“From what I know, I have heard that humans do not act without compensation.”
“Well, that's not necessarily true….”
“We do not have the gold that you humans desire. We have no compensation to give.”
“Hahaha. If you say it like that, it makes me sound like a person who only cares about money.”
‘Is he not?’
‘That Orc knows how to read people.’
‘A very smart Orc.’
The soldiers admired Turanta's insight.
It seemed that whether human or Orc, the wisdom of an elder was not to be taken lightly.
And Patrick cleared his throat and said.
“I don't particularly want money. As a substitute, should I say? I do have one small favor to ask.”
“A favor?”
“Yes. If you defeat the King Ogre with my help…. Ah, first of all, we will take all their hides, sinews, or whatever might be worth money.”
“That does not matter. Is that the favor?”
“No, that's a given, my favor is something else.”
“What is it?”
“Please become our neighbor.”
“…A neighbor?”
“Yes. We are neighbors now, in fact, but we don't visit each other and are too far apart, so we can't even help when an emergency like this occurs, can we? I hope we can become not just such lukewarm neighbors, but truly close neighbors.”
At Patrick's words, Turanta frowned and said.
“Patrick, great warrior. Do you wish to enslave us?”
Slaves.
There was a time when human supremacist ideology spread widely across the nations of this continent, and it was considered natural to enslave other races.
Dwarves, Beastkin, Elves, Sirens.
Many races were captured by humans and forced into slavery.
But during that brutal period, the one race that humans could not enslave was the Orcs.
The race of warriors.
A race of struggle that does not fear death and resists to the last man.
Even engraving a mark to impose a restriction was useless.
If obedience and death were placed on a scale, the Orcs were those who would choose death without a second's hesitation.
That's why even the humans of the past concluded that enslaving the Orcs was impossible.
However, in the process, the amount of Orc blood spilled on this land was enormous.
Patrick, having been born into this world, had received a basic education, so he knew something of this history.
That is why he now straightened his back and looked squarely at Turanta, saying.
“What I want is not a slave, but a neighbor, and a friend who can protect each other.”
“How can I believe that?”
“I will promise on the honor of what is most precious to me. I will never enslave you.”
“……”
Turanta stared at Patrick blankly.
In truth, a human's pledge is not to be trusted.
They are a race that can utter falsehoods with a straight face.
Turanta looked Patrick straight in the eyes and said.
“Humans are not to be trusted. We Orcs are not wise, but we know at least that much.”
“……”
“But if a great warrior of your stature makes a pledge, it might be worth believing.”
“……”
“I, Turanta, chieftain of the Red Rock Tribe, will trust the human Patrick Schneider. Will you please lend us your strength?”
“You will not regret it.”
Turanta extended his hand.
And Patrick grinned and took that large, thick hand.
* * *
The warriors of the Red Rock Tribe, facing a great battle, made thorough preparations.
“We are short on weapons. Bring more.”
“Go to the quarry and make more. It is still not enough.”
“Roast meat. We must eat well to be strong.”
“Meat, meat, meat is always right.”
In truth, the preparations consisted of little more than arming themselves sturdily and eating their fill.
The weapons of the Orcs are stone tools.
Lacking the technology to smelt iron, they use stone tools, a family of chipped stone implements.
However, they don't use ordinary stones, but a special type of stone that is very heavy and hard.
A stone made of a material called Kalius, which is a rock that becomes a headache when it appears during mining or construction, making the work difficult.
It is much harder and heavier than most metals.
Humans process it for use in the foundations of castle walls, but the only race that uses it as a weapon is the Orcs.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
“It is done.”
Patrick chuckled, watching an Orc warrior who had made his own weapon by striking it with a stone hammer made of Kalius and was pleased with it.
“Their strength is really something else. The guys in Murim who boasted about being strongmen or men of great strength were nothing.”
In learning martial arts, what is important is the physical frame and insight.
In that sense, it was no exaggeration to say that the Orcs were truly blessed, at least in their physical frames, if not their insight.
There were said to be 200 warriors with such blessed physical frames.
This was a force that could not be ignored.
‘And yet they thought they had no chance of winning against the King Ogre?’
“Just what kind of monster is it for them to think that?”
At Patrick's question, Sanson, who was beside him, spoke.
“Do you remember the Saber Tiger the Young Master caught before?”
“I do. What about it?”
“A normal Ogre is on a similar level to that Saber Tiger.”
“Then it's no big deal?”
“But a King Ogre is said to be several times stronger than a normal Ogre.”
“Still no big deal.”
“And it is said to subjugate other Ogres and keep them as subordinates.”
“Well, it'll probably be no big deal.”
“It is said that their numbers can sometimes reach the hundreds.”
“…That sounds like it might be a bit of a big deal.”
“According to legend, there is a story of a nation falling due to a King Ogre whose numbers swelled to several thousand.”
“…What are you trying to say?”
At Patrick's question, Sanson spoke as if he had been waiting.
“We must stop this madness and go back.”
“Hey, how can we do that now?”
“Young Master!”
“Ah ah, don't shout….”
Patrick picked his ear and said to Sanson, who had a serious expression.
“You don't trust me?”
“I trust you, Young Master. But even so, the opponent is too much this time.”
“Well, from what you've said, it does seem like a pretty terrifying being.”
“That is right. Therefore….”
“So shouldn't we catch it quickly right now?”
“Pardon?”
“You said if we leave this thing alone, it will gradually grow its pack and become a monster that even a nation would have trouble handling, right?”
“That is correct.”
“In that case, wouldn't the damage be less if we eliminate it as early as possible upon discovery?”
“Hmm….”
“Besides, if we fight now, 200 strong Orc warriors will fight alongside us, right? What if we run away like this, the King Ogre defeats the Orcs, expands its territory, grows its pack even more, and then invades our fiefdom?”
“……”
“Can we stop it then with the forces of our fiefdom?”
Sanson, who had heard Patrick's explanation, stood blankly for a moment before speaking.
“You thought that far ahead?”
“Of course. Did you really think I came all this way just thinking, ‘Yay, an expensive monster. Let's go catch it.’?”
“……”
‘This bastard really thought so.’
Patrick, slightly hurt, sighed and said.
“Hey. Sanson.”
“Speak.”
“Why are we catching monsters in the first place?”
“That is….”
Sanson's expression showed he had realized something.
And to the blushing Sanson, Patrick said.
“We catch monsters to clear the area around the fiefdom so the residents can live safely. Well, the side income from the byproducts of the monsters we catch is also pretty sweet.”
“Yes. That is correct.”
“But a disaster that could potentially destroy a nation has appeared less than a five-day walk from our fiefdom, and we should just leave it be?”
“……”
“Are you an idiot? Is your head not working?”
Sanson's face turned even redder.
Patrick was someone who only cared about money, had a rotten personality, and was sometimes so vile it made one question if he was human or a demon, but what he was saying now was all true.
The soldiers of the fiefdom exist to protect the safety of the residents, and they must do their best in that regard.
Yet Sanson, appointed as the captain of the guard, had overlooked that very fact.
‘And I want to become a knight like this.
Like this….’
Sanson could only bow his head in shame.