Chapter 2: Half-Orcs

Bao Ling trained a group of soldiers with great enthusiasm. Under his command, sixty new recruits spent five days clearing the overgrown wasteland behind the barracks. Following infantry training standards, Bao Ling spent another two days turning it into a rudimentary training ground. At least the land was now leveled, and wooden targets had been set up. Bao Ling was confident that this training ground would produce the first batch of qualified infantry soldiers in the Caucasus.

As an outstanding soldier from the Melun Duchy, renowned for its infantry, Bao Ling had high standards. Yet he couldn’t deny that the physical fitness of these half-orc soldiers far exceeded that of ordinary humans. Even when compared to the strongest among human soldiers, they held an advantage. What troubled Bao Ling, however, was that their training progress was disappointingly slow. What took ordinary human soldiers one day to complete took the half-orcs at least three days. This kind of training was a torment for Bao Ling, but he had to fulfill the task assigned to him by the lord before his departure. By the time the lord returned, Bao Ling needed to present him with a decent infantry squad.

Although the half-orc soldiers had poor learning abilities, their natural talents combined with their intense training allowed them to adapt quickly to Bao Ling’s methods. After mastering basic actions like lining up, saluting, marching in step, and raising weapons, they moved on to basic infantry combat training. In this area, their performance was far better than their performance in drills and discipline training. Their strong physiques meant they could fight against any ordinary soldier for several rounds in a one-on-one duel, which delighted Bao Ling greatly. After all, any training instructor would be pleased to see his students possess such strength.

This task of recruiting and training a small group of soldiers was given to Bao Ling by Komer when he left the Caucasus. Although Komer didn’t specify who should be recruited, when large numbers of half-orcs moved out of the mountains and settled in the outskirts of Ugru, Bao Ling naturally set his sights on these people who had left the mountains without means of making a living. Especially when Bao Ling led several fully armed half-orc soldiers on proud patrols through Ugru Town, the pride they displayed made those half-orcs extremely envious, and even some of the native humans in the town felt tempted.

When the announcement for recruiting soldiers into the lord’s guard was posted outside the town’s only two inns, people flocked to sign up in large numbers. The lord’s guard—regardless of salary—was a name enough to be boasted about to outsiders, as it represented a highly honorable profession. However, with only sixty recruitment spots available, many were disappointed. Bao Ling’s strict requirements further narrowed the pool of candidates; almost all who qualified were half-orcs standing nearly two meters tall, capable of escaping the strict surveillance of mine owners and crossing the towering Volt Mountains—requirements that demanded bodies far stronger than those of ordinary people. Yet this didn’t mean there were no ordinary humans among the natives capable of this role. At least three of them managed to break through the half-orcs’ encirclement and make it in, which piqued Bao Ling’s interest in them. Two down-and-out adventurer warriors and a human from a hunter’s family became the exceptions among the first recruits. Under the half-orcs’ skeptical gazes, they too became part of the later elite of the Caucasus Guard. The human warriors quickly showed adaptability and responsiveness unlike the half-orcs. Though their physical strength still fell far short of that of most of the selected half-orcs, their ability to adapt far surpassed theirs. Their learning skills were also the main reason Bao Ling chose these three; at least they possessed archery skills that the half-orc warriors could not master. In any case, the arrival of the new lord had brought changes to Ugru Town. Within just over a month, various businesses in the town thrived significantly. Although the terrifying influx of over a hundred thousand immigrants had not yet arrived, and the townspeople didn’t know what their arrival would mean, the continuous construction of buildings on the outskirts over the past month had already shown them signs of change in life. Though these buildings were merely simple or even crude wooden structures or stone houses, the fact remained that an increasing population brought various benefits.

The small market in town now had significantly more various kinds of game and medicinal herbs. Outsiders who could smell these goods also came here more frequently. The taverns were filled with half-orc patrons—hunters who had moved from the nearby forests. With legitimate identification, they no longer had to worry about being subject to unwanted inspections and searches while spending money in town. Their greatest pleasure was to sell their catch and then drink a couple of cups of cheap rye beer in the tavern to relax; distilled spirits were too luxurious for them, unless they caught a large beast like a bear or tiger, in which case they might indulge in one. The blacksmith shops in town saw a surge in business as well, as the half-orc hunters were willing to spend money on quality tools, demanding not only excellent craftsmanship but also special engravings and symbols crafted by the blacksmiths to ensure good luck in their hunts.

Grain merchants, like shop owners, welcomed these changes. The sharp increase in business volume had them considering hiring more workers and acquiring new carts to facilitate quicker deliveries from Bruce. Almost everyone viewed these changes positively, as if they had all forgotten the shadow cast by Damorlesk Castle in the eastern suburbs. Every new lord brought endless disasters and troubles, and that period rarely lasted longer than three months. Would this new lord change that fate?

At this time, Komer didn’t have the energy to worry about the rumored curse of the demon god. His top priority was to safely lead these hundred thousand people to the Caucasus and help them get through the winter until next summer’s harvest. That was what he needed to focus on most.

Compared to the harmonious cooperation among the Melen immigrants after communicating through Rese, those from the city-states of Main and Susor seemed less easy to get along with. Perhaps due to hearsay about the remoteness, barrenness of the Caucasus, and various terrifying legends, immigrants from these two places were full of complaints about the relocation. Yet, with no chance of staying in the three kingdoms and unwilling to become slaves to the orcs, and with the harsh northern winds deterring anyone, they had no choice but to set off southward despite their reluctance.

Looking at the long queue of people with children at their sides with a somewhat bewildered gaze, Komer realized that his mood no longer held the excitement or irritation he had at first. What had to happen would happen eventually; since he had accepted this trouble, he had no choice but to press on. Things might not be as bad as he had imagined. The first batch of food from Palermo had already been taken out of Duke Zerlin’s granaries ahead of the queue. This guy was indeed capable—he had managed to persuade Zerlin, who was already dissatisfied with the situation, to agree to sell and deliver the food. The security issues along the route were also resolved through the joint efforts of the Interior Minister and Palermo. Hopefully, Puber, who was left behind, could bring him a surprise and not leave too many problems for him to deal with.

Thinking about the incessant talk by the representatives of the city-states of Main and Sussor about the curses of demons gave Komer a headache. The infamous fear associated with Damorlensk Fortress seemed to have spread throughout the Kingdom of Nicosia and even the entire Northern Alliance. After all, three lords had died mysteriously shortly after taking over their territories. Such coincidences, combined with the unique geographical conditions of the Caucasus, were enough to make anyone believe it was an ominous place. To dispel the fears of these worried people, perhaps the only way was to settle safely in Damorlensk Fortress and live a happy and secure life. Yet this seemed like a risky venture with no guarantees.

The carriage moved forward, shaking on the hard muddy road. Rese had returned to his fellow villagers, carrying out the task assigned to him by Komer. He needed more time to show them the beauty and richness of the Caucasus—of course, with some appropriate exaggeration.

Gently pushing the window shut, Komer withdrew his gaze tiredly and leaned his head back on the leather cushion. Since leaving Cyprus, it seemed he had never had a moment’s peace. The carefree days spent with Puber and Ilot were likely gone forever. For the sake of life, for survival, people had to strive toward their own goals. It was the same for him, and surely for those refugees outside the window as well. But what was the ultimate goal of his own struggles? To become a competent and successful lord, or to become the ruler of the world of dark magic, as his master had said?

All the chaotic and complicated scenes from the past kept flooding into his mind. The swaying carriage was somewhat dim due to the closed window panels. Komer closed his eyes in a daze, but his hand instinctively reached into his chest to touch the crystal fragment that still held his body heat.

“Where is this?” The sky had become extremely dark, with sawtoothed and spherical lightning flashing from the rolling clouds. Distant thunder rumbled ominously from some unknown direction, sounding incredibly dull. Massive, monolithic archways stood side by side without any gaps; it was unclear what material they were made of, but they were over five meters tall. Strange characters were twistedly engraved on their dark, shiny surfaces. These characters seemed familiar, yet Komer couldn’t recall where he had seen them before.

Grass taller than a person swayed in the howling wind. The highly resilient ribbon-like leaves twirled in the air like spirits, rising and falling repeatedly. In the distance, the sun was setting, and the grayish clouds in the sky created a feeling of oppression. The dark clouds above had gradually accumulated over time, as if plotting something.

Crows cawed incessantly among the dead trees, their cries especially harsh. Behind the monolithic archways was a wide stone path. In the distance, it led to the entrance of a huge complex of buildings. Komer instinctively walked along the stone path. In a daze, he felt as though this place was where he had once lived, but upon closer reflection, he realized he had never seen these buildings before.

At the end of the path, the complex of buildings resembled a group of palaces with a style different from those found anywhere else on the continent. Their black walls were made of some unknown stone. At the entrance to the palaces stood two rows of huge grayish stone sculptures of strange beasts, which appeared eerie under the glow of the setting sun. The Spaiji, with their sinister smiles and dark blue lights in their eyes, exuded a chilling aura. These ancient statues depicted beautiful women with lion bodies and dark green eagle wings, with traces of blood seemingly seeping from between their teeth—proof of them having devoured passersby who failed to solve riddles. Komer didn’t understand why such statues would be placed at the entrance of such a magnificent palace. Though each had a different expression, it was clear they seemed to have been petrified directly from their original forms, which filled Komer with fear as he stepped at the palace’s entrance.

The palace’s gates opened automatically, enveloped in dark mist that prevented Komer from seeing what was inside. He hesitated, as if something within the palace was attracting him unknowingly. While he was still undecided, a solemn and cold voice came from inside: “Come in, Guide. The Wheel of Fate has brought you and me to this point of convergence; it is destined that you will inherit everything I have.”

As if by magic, Komer found this confident voice to be incredibly compelling. Before he could even understand the meaning of the words, he found himself stepping inside without hesitation.

The palace’s ceiling was high, supported by twelve giant black stone pillars on each side, forming an arched ceiling. To Komer’s surprise, when he looked up, the arched ceiling was actually a mask relief—a sinisterly smiling mask belonging to Hades, the Dark God, whom few people on the continent worshipped.

On a green jade throne stood a human-shaped stone statue. No, it couldn’t be called a stone statue—more like half a stone statue, with at least the head being a movable object. Its raised eyebrows and cold eyes suggested it was a living human head. But upon closer inspection, the part below the neck was a pure white jade sculpture. Somehow, the two were connected so harmoniously and perfectly that no imperfections could be seen.