Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 47 - Limited Dimensional Authority - Part Two

 

Staring up at the ceiling, with Lash, Suzy and Pete cradled in my arms, I couldn’t help but second guess my decision to entrust the Artefacts to Gregory and the Regent Francis. Granted, I could snatch them back at any time regardless of the distance between us, so long as I had the mana. However, what worried me was the potential harm they could inflict with those weapons before I learned of it.

 

Rikit and Garn’s loyalty had been beyond question, each of them having proven their loyalty to me and our shared cause in their own ways. With the Asrusians, it was different. Everything was always with their own self-interest in mind. Both myself and the people of Sanctuary benefited as often as not, but it was only incidentally.

 

A part of me wondered if this was simply the honeymoon period, and that the Asrusians attitudes would shift the moment they felt like they were no longer receiving the lion's share of benefits from our arrangement. History on Earth was rife with betrayals over far less and in equally precarious situations, so I couldn’t dismiss the possibility out of hand.

 

The oaths both men had sworn, both previously and more recently, were of some comfort. Any attempts at betrayal would have to be attempted through circuitous means, making them more likely to be discovered. Similarly, the longer the common people lived under our alliance, or what I supposed was actually closer to a tributary or protectorate arrangement, the more they would come to accept it as the new normal.

 

Continuing that line of thought, I realised that it wasn’t the existing leadership I needed to watch out for, it was the average citizenry themselves.

 

I needed to give them something they could engage with and positively associate that engagement with my rule. Allowing them to live in the Lesser Dimensional Plane seemed like the sort of thing people would take for granted after adapting to the Labyrinth lifestyle. In many respects, the Labyrinths provided abundance, and my role in their day-to-day lives, and the benefits I provided them, were incredibly passive in nature.

 

After an hour of brainstorming, I still hadn’t come up with anything definitive. I kept circling back to the mana stone donation quest and how incredibly popular it was. Spending another two to three hours trawling through the notifications of quest completion and the Status of the participants, I began to notice a pattern.

 

The majority of participants engaging with the quest were not the ones killing monsters to acquire them. The maths simply didn’t support it. However, the maths made a great deal more sense when I realised that the participants were accepting mana stones from others and then donating them to complete the quest for the Exp.

 

In most cases, the quest participant had a listed relative with enough levels to have hunted the monsters that provided the mana stones. Family members were gaming the system to earn their relatives Exp without requiring them to face the danger required to earn it. The Exp rewards from the mana stone donation quest were leaps and bounds higher than the Exp awarded from the majority of the reservist and Class progression quests.

 

With the number of potential participants now set to increase dramatically, altering the aesthetics or perhaps even a core function of the quest might be precisely what I was looking for. Of course, I couldn’t just alter the aesthetics without adding or otherwise changing the quest in some fashion to justify it.

 

Brainstorming a little while longer, I arrived at my solution. Versatility. I would alter the quest to allow division of the reward amongst predefined categories of participants, such as an entire Party or retinue.

 

With the justification for the change now determined, I had to consider how I was going to influence public perception through the quest. I could take the blatant propaganda approach, requiring the quest participants to recite a message affirming their loyalty in some way.

 

Perhaps something along the lines of long live the King, but substitute King for Tyrant?

 

Assuming Pete or Suzy would one day inherit whatever this proto-empire was I making, they wouldn’t really need to change it. Suzy might have to change it to Tyrantess, but that wasn’t really that much of a difference.

 

Normally, I wouldn’t have been so keen on blatant propaganda, but I had to consider my children’s safety and security. Besides, it was comparatively unobtrusive compared to what certain regimes had demanded on Earth, so I decided that it was something I could learn to live with.

 

Less than a half hour after the quest went live, notifications began rolling in as people completed the quest.

 

In my haste, I realised that I had neglected to provide a title for the quest and I could now see that a title had been automatically generated from my intentions.

 

[The Tyrant’s Benevolence: {Repeatable}]

 

“I guess that’s what I wanted,” I sighed, unable to think of another justification for changing the quest again.

 

I was just falling asleep when I realised there was another potential oversight. I hadn’t designated where the donated mana stones would be deposited.

 

I woke up late and was surprised to find the twins were both still asleep.

 

Lash was cleaning off the bed and seemed to have already removed most of the water from the floor. It didn’t take her long to realise I was awake.

 

“You slept late,” she stated with a small smile, “I let you sleep longer, expecting Suzy to wake you up.”

 

Right on cue, Suzy began to squirm beneath the wet blanket.

 

Pete wriggled out of reach of his sister and then settled right back down again.

 

Seeing that Suzy was only a few moments away from waking up completely, Lash hurriedly extricated her from the blanket and popped a strip of meat in Suzy’s mouth before setting her back down on my chest.

 

Suzy grinned happily down at me while flailing her arms in an uncoordinated attempt to get a grip of the meat sticking out of her mouth.

 

“Good morning Suzy,” I took a small breath, pursed my lips and blew back her short downy hair.

 

Suzy giggled and slapped my neck while trying to smack my mouth.

 

Pete determinedly turned his head away and continued drooling from his partially open mouth.

 

“Babies!” Toofy came charging into the house and ran up beside me before trying to pick up Suzy. Far heavier than she looked, Toofy struggled to drag Suzy off of my chest and promptly fell to the floor with Suzy on top of her, “Oops...” Toofy groaned breathlessly.

 

“Ghehehe!” Suzy seemed to find her abrupt descent hysterical, and since Toofy had taken the brunt of the fall, I didn’t see anything to be worried about.

 

Wiggling her way back into a sitting position, Toofy produced a number of small toys the twins hadn’t managed to destroy during her last visit.

 

Suzy’s eyes lit up immediately and she vigorously set to the task of shaking a crude doll until it tore itself apart.

 

“Baby so strong!” Toofy cheered approvingly, “Suzy is like Tim!”

 

Rather than being offended, Lash nodded in agreement.

 

If I was truly honest about it, Suzy reminded me more of Toofy than she did Lash or myself. But that was related more to temperament than anything else.

 

“Suzy is certainly enthusiastic,” I observed with a slight shrug, “I can’t imagine what she will be like if she manages to keep that same energy as a teenager, let alone an adult.”

 

Toofy just smiled and nodded vigorously in approval while surrendering another doll to the slaughter.

 

“Teen-ager?” Lash asked slowly, taking great care to emulate the unfamiliar word, “I don’t know this word.”

 

“Its a term roughly approximating adolescence,” I explained, keenly aware that I might have to reexplain myself due to using larger words, “Humans where I am originally from would begin to be called teenagers after reaching thirteen years old and would continue to be called teenagers usually until they are seventeen. Technically, calling them teenagers would still be correct until they turn twenty years old. Does that make sense?”

 

Lash slowly nodded, but it was obvious that she didn’t seem fully convinced. “Why name them teenagers?” Lash asked curiously, “You said adolescence. That is youths, yes?”

 

“That’s a rough approximation of it,” I agreed and realised why Lash was having a problem with the designation. “Where I am from. You aren’t considered an adult until you are eighteen years old. Some places were a little lower and some a little higher.”

 

Lash’s eyes widened in surprise, revealing more of her beautiful amethyst eyes, “How old are you?” She asked with unrestrained curiosity.

 

Feeling somewhat self-conscious, I took a moment to clear my throat. “I’m twenty and turning twenty-one in...I’m not sure...A few months?” I only just realised that I had lost track of the date and a general sense of time, “I would have to ask Nadine or one of the others how long I have been here...”

 

“Twenty?...” Lash’s eyes widened further still, “You are twenty YEARS old?!” The emphasis she placed on years widened the sinking feeling that had appeared in my gut.

 

I nodded, “Seven thousand four hundred days, give or take a few months...” I clarified quietly.

 

“Twenty years...” Lash repeated, sinking to the floor.

 

“I...I uh...I assume Orcs don’t usually live that long?” I asked, trying to suppress the terrifying prospect of outliving Lash by a factor of decades.

 

Lash slowly shook her head, “No...No...It is not common,” she noticed I was upset and became concerned, “Was not common,” Lash corrected, “Warriors and hunters fell from fighting, elders fell from sickness...Twenty was...rare.”

 

“How...How old was your oldest elder?” I asked with great apprehension, already convinced I didn’t want to know the answer.

 

Lash remained silent and silently began counting on her fingers. Long pauses came and went between extending or retracting one of her fingers, so I was relatively confident that I had a decent approximation of her count by the time she was done.

 

“Sixty-two,” Lash stated somewhat reluctantly and didn’t seem particularly pleased by her own answer.

 

“They were very sick for a long time when they died, weren’t they?” I asked with a small degree of relief in spite of the news.

 

Lash nodded.

 

I felt the tension in my neck slowly release and took comfort in the prospect of being able to push that number higher.

 

Lash noticed my change in mood and seemed confused.

 

“People, humans, where I am from had similar lives and life expectancies,” I began to explain while doing my best not to disturb Pete, “A good diet, exercise, clean living, and medical care, all help people live longer and better lives.”

 

Lash looked the room over and blanched, “Not clean...”

 

I raised a hand to get Lash’s attention again, “This is fine. I mean, yes the foodscraps will need to be disposed of before they go bad, but on the whole, this is fine. Especially for Pete and Suzy. Swamps are usually quite dirty and muddy, and so long as they don’t have any open wounds, it would stand to reason that they are equipped to handle the same general conditions.

 

Lash let out a deep sigh of relief,

 

“Lash...” I struggled with deciding if I wanted to know the answer to my next question, and what it would entail.

 

“Yes?” Lash asked curiously, now smiling again and getting to her feet.

 

I decided to bite the bullet. It was already way too late “How old are you?”

 

Lash paused and began to count on her fingers again, “Fifteen,” she replied with relative confidence.

 

That was not as bad as I thought the difference would be. “How old are most Orcs when they choose a mate?” I asked curiously, now trying to determine some sort of conversion metric for the unaltered human to Orc ages of maturity.

 

“Thirteen,” Lash replied confidently without having to count, “Mothers’ Moon won't touch younger Orcs.”

 

Just like that, I returned to feeling like a creep again. “When would young Orcs be trusted to join the hunters or warriors of the clan?”

 

“Fourteen,” Lash answered while pulling aside the curtain to air out the house.

 

“So you were only with the warriors for a year?” That didn’t seem quite right to me.

 

Lash chuckled and shook her head, “Was not allowed.”

 

It took the better part of a minute for my brain to process that statement. It just seemed bizarre. Orc men and women were far closer in muscular and skeletal parity than humans, so it just didn’t make sense that they wouldn’t have allowed Lash to fight. That is until I realised I was overlooking how brutal their fight for continued survival must have been before they were driven from their home.

 

Recalling how dangerous hunting in the caverns below Sanctuary had been, it wasn’t difficult to imagine hunting parties being wiped out due to the slightest mistakes and poor luck. With limited numbers to begin with, the clan would have been wiped in no time if the females of the clan were allowed to join the hunting parties.

 

I supposed that the physical parity in the sexes was to their advantage as well. In an emergency, the females of the clan weren’t defenceless. Quite the opposite, Lash’s armour demonstrated that they placed a high priority on everyone being able to defend themselves.

 

Deciding I would address the whole age issue later, I gently patted Pete’s head and watched Toofy play with Suzy. Lash joined them a short while later and seemed just as pleased by Suzy’s destructive enthusiasm as Toofy.

 

Pete was awake, but he seemed perfectly content to continue lying on my chest like a lazy slug. Not that I was complaining.

 

“Mbuh brrrbbbb,” Pete burbled, smiling happily as more drool ran down his chin.

 

After a couple of hours, Toofy had just about worn Suzy out and had now come for Pete, offering him another one of the dolls she had recreated with one of her Scavenger Abilities.

 

Expecting Pete to reject the doll, I was surprised when he snatched it and pulled it into a tight hug. However, unlike Suzy, Pete made no attempts at damaging the doll.

 

“Are you ready to play with Toofy?” I asked Pete rhetorically, more than ready to begin my daily exercise routine.

 

Pete continued hugging his new toy, bobbed his head and lurched into Toofy’s waiting arms.

 

Which would have sent them both crashing to the floor if Lash hadn’t been waiting to catch Toofy in turn.

 

The degree of language recognition in the twins was kind of crazy. They always left me with the impression that they understood just about everything I was saying. Given how the Labyrinths Settlement mechanics worked, I suppose it was possible that they did understand everything but weren’t quite developed enough to speak back.

 

Carefully getting to my feet, I set Pete’s damp blanket on the floor and took a few moments to stretch the stiffness from my joints. I felt none the worse for having slept on the floor besides a little stiffness, so I gave Lash a kiss goodbye and set out to take a jog around the perimeter of the Settlement.

 

Leaving the house, I encountered a slight problem with my plan. A thick column of civilians was slowly marching from the portal and down the main road out of the inner walls of the Settlement.

 

Soldiers were standing at fixed intervals and guiding the civilians along while a Sergeant standing atop a building overlooking the crossroads barked the same information in a semi continuous loop with the help of a primitive megaphone to amplify the volume of his voice. I had heard the distorted echoes for the better part of the past few hours, but now I could actually make out what he was saying.

 

“-AKE SURE TO PRESENT YOUR FAMILY’S TICKET TO THE ADMINISTRATION COUNTER. YOU WILL THEN BE DIRECTED TO A TEMPORARY HOUSING DISTRICT. THE NUMBER AT THE BOTTOM OF YOUR TICKET WILL MATCH THE NUMBER ON THE DOOR OF YOUR TEMPORARY HOME. CIVILIANS ARE ENCOURAGED TO ASSIST IN DIRECTING THEIR NEIGHBOURS TO THEIR NEW TEMPORARY ACCOMMODATIONS, BUT ARE TO REMAIN WITHIN THEIR ASSIGNED DISTRICT UNTIL THE EVACUATION OF THE CITY IS COMPLETED. FOOD WILL BE DISTRIBUTED FROM THE STOREHOUSE OF YOUR ASSIGNED DISTRICT AND WATER IS AVAILABLE FROM THE WELLS WITHIN YOUR ASSIGNED DISTRICT. THOSE WHO WISH TO MAKE THEIR TEMPORARY RESIDENCE PERMANENT MAY MAKE AN APPLICATION ONCE THE EVACUATION IS COMPLETED. THOSE WITH SPECIAL WORK PASSES MUST MAKE SURE TO KEEP THEIR WORK PASS CLEARLY VISIBLE ON THEIR PERSON AT ALL TIMES. EACH DISTRICT WILL HOST A DISTRICT MEETING EVERY FIFTH DAY IN THE DISTRICT’S DESIGNATED ASSEMBLY AND MARKET AREA.” The Sergeant took a short break to gulp down the contents of a waterskin, “ALL CITIZENS ARE TO MAKE SURE TO PRESENT YOUR FAMILY’S TICKET-” I was thoroughly impressed by the man’s commitment to his assigned role. Even with the momentary pauses between sentences to steal a breath or two, keeping it up for so long and remaining consistent was a true achievement.

 

“Yeah...Only having one gate out of the inner city doesn’t seem like such a good idea anymore, does it?” Clarice called out as she made her way over from Ushu and Dhizi’s holding area.

 

“I never said it was,” I countered with a shrug, “Whoever designed the foothold in the first place only left one gate to the outside. I just had it moved.”

 

“That line’s been moving since yesterday evening you know,” Clarice pointed out conversationally, “Seems like the moment those engineers figured out a layout for a district, they just started copying it over and over again. You should go take a look, it’s actually pretty impressive. I don’t think I have ever seen a city that was so neat and tidy.”

 

Clarice led me back over to Ushu and towards the wall.

 

While Clarice made use of a conveniently stacked pile of empty crates, I pulled myself up onto the top of the wall.

 

Clarice was right, the army engineers had taken a very boring and predictable approach to their civic planning. Every district was close to identical to its immediate neighbours, fanning out around the inner walls and each successive ring of districts.

 

Far smaller than before, each district encompassed about a hundred houses and a dozen larger buildings. At the centre was what looked like a market square with a large administrative building off to one side. Every district was connected by significantly larger roads and surrounded by thick walls of stone, requiring entry to each district through one of four different gates.

 

The major intersections at the corners of the districts had tall robust towers requiring the traffic of people and wagons to pass around them to either side. Unsurprisingly, this was causing a few problems.

 

While it was obvious that the engineers wanted lookout posts at fixed intervals, they had not accounted for the congestion that would be caused by civilian traffic. The engineers were obviously far too used to military discipline streamlining movement through their camps.

 

I felt a pang of sympathy for the engineers, “Clarice, I’ll personally award you another high grade Elixir if you can find one of those engineers and have them start making signs requiring traffic to stick to one side of the road.”

 

Clarice gave me an incredulous but eager look, “What do you mean? How would that help anything?”

 

I sighed and pointed to the road below us on the other side of the wall. “If everyone sticks to one side, let’s say the left while travelling on the road, this allows traffic to flow more smoothly.”

 

“But everyone would still be trying to push past everyone else heading the other way. Wouldn't they?” Clarice seemed confused and hopped down off the wall.

 

“Try it,” I suggested, pointing to the street right outside of Ushu and Dhizi’s holding area.

 

Clarice shrugged and proceeded to make her way to the other side of the street before beginning to walk down the street.

 

“Now come back,” I called after a few moments, “And remember, on your left side.”

 

Clarice paused for a moment, crossed the street and walked back to her starting point. Clarice stared at the street for a few moments and then looked back towards me, “I think you might be onto something,” she called out in amusement before briskly jogging off towards the gate.

 

I could hardly take credit for Earth’s basic traffic laws, and besides, the guards of the city would probably need to be trained as traffic police for the major thoroughfares in order to avoid congestion from all the wagons. Or maybe they could make magical traffic lights using the same sort of magic as the communication devices.

 

I was sure someone would be able to make a rotating switch of some kind that could activate up to four separate sets of lights at the same time. Then they would just need one guard per major intersection to control it.

 

A made a mental note to pass it along to one of the engineers later. I had seen a clocktower in the city, so that meant that there was presumably a clockmaker somewhere as well.

 

I decided to spend a half hour running hard on the spot as a substitute for my originally intended jog before doing as many pushups as I could manage before my arms gave out. To push myself further, I began challenging the armoured Orcs not on guard duty to bare-knuckle boxing. They were allowed to wear their armour and even use clubs if they felt like it, but deliberately striking the head or groyne was off limits.

 

The former was to avoid complications from accumulated brain injuries, and the latter was to even the playing field. After all, I had a magical item that would redirect any attempts at a cheap shot.

 

Establishing a proto tournament quest similar to what was undertaken in the desert, the guards would earn Exp just for competing, even if they were defeated. However, with Nadine and all of her students otherwise occupied, Iron Gut and cold compresses would be the only assistance provided for injuries received while participating.

 

I also decided to offer a special prize to the Orc who gave me the most challenging fight. To make things fair, I agreed to repeat the competition during the two other shifts as well, deciding that it would be good for my combat conditioning by fighting hard more than once on any given day.

 

Most of the younger Orcs were rather straightforward and crude, attempting head-on charges and initiating brawls while relying on their armour to absorb my counterattacks. None of them lasted more than three punches at most before being dragged out of our sparring space.

 

The old Orcs were craftier, attempting feints to then allow them to land more telling blows. Unfortunately, none of them was fast enough to deliver more than a handful of strikes before I managed to land a telling blow of my own.

 

Hrolk was different. Neither the oldest nor the youngest, he was the only Orc amongst them brave or crazy enough to remove his armour. Hrolk had watched every fight with keen interest, and now he stood in front of me with a long thick stave. By a loose definition, it was technically a club, so I decided to let it slide. One end of the stave was carved into a blunted point, and a cursory glance at Hrolk’s Status confirmed that this was intended to allow the use of his Spearman Class Abilities.

 

Just like all the others, Hrolk showed no fear, just a general sense of barely contained excitement and anticipation.

 

“Begin,” I grunted and lifted my fists into a ready position.

 

Expecting Hrolk to advance as the others had done, I was surprised when he immediately began circling around me instead.

 

No doubt assuming the prolonged fighting had worn down my joints, Hrolk would be disappointed to learn that I was actually in peak condition thanks to Iron Gut.

 

However, Hrolk didn’t seem disappointed or the slightest bit surprised when I matched his movements. Instead, Hrolk began circling closer with his staff at the ready.

 

Doing my best to take the situation as seriously as if the match was a real fight, I hunkered my shoulders and switched direction, pacing in the opposite direction with the intention of creating an intercept course with Hrolk.

 

Tightening his grip on his staff, Hrolk didn’t back down, continuing his side on approach towards me.

 

*WHACK!*

 

In a blur of movement, Hrolk’s staff had suddenly extended three additional feet and swept in hard from my right, crashing against my knee with enough force to shatter the staff at the point of impact.

 

I felt a flash of pain but ignored it, lurching closer and swinging my left fist down towards his chest.

 

Hrolk ducked beneath the blow and stabbed the broken end of his staff towards my exposed armpit.

 

The force behind the attack pushed my left arm slightly wider, but the staff continued to splinter under the strain and lost another foot of its length without leaving any signs of visible injury.

 

All the same, Hrolk was already on the move, using the momentum of his strike to aid in a desperate leap out of my reach.

 

Instead of immediately chasing after him, I lowered myself closer to the ground, running my left hand over the bare street and collecting a fistful of loose debris. Ignoring the dull ache in my right leg, I pressed forward and made as if to jab Hrolk with my right fist. As he ducked away to my right, I hurled the debris straight in his face.

 

Hrolk’s eyes widened in surprise but he continued with his own attack ramming the splintered remnants of his staff into my chest as dirt and grit caught him in the eyes. Blinded, Hrolk staggered backwards a half step and was unable to see my next attack coming.

 

I punched Hrolk square in the chest, driving him to the ground and sending him tumbling backwards and towards the crowd of Orcs. Not allowing him time to recover, I followed after Hrolk and snatched him up by his long greasy hair, “You are meant to protect my family,” I growled menacingly, lifting Hrolk until we were eye to eye with one another and ignoring the blind flailing of his arms and legs as he tried to land whatever blows he could. “That means you do whatever it takes!” I snarled, “If some prize is more important to you than my family, then you are useless to me!”

 

Panting heavily, Hrolk’s arms and legs, still trembling, fell to his sides.

 

“That goes for the rest of you too!” I made a point of glaring at each and every one of them in the eyes,

 

“.....” Hrolk muttered something but it was too quiet for me to make out clearly enough to understand. Without meaning to, I drew him closer to try and hear him better. Pursing his lips Hrolk spat a gobbet of sizzling phlegm at my face and then spun his body hard, delivering a kick to the side of my neck and biting down hard on my exposed wrist.

 

Letting go of Hrolk out of reflex, my arm sagged towards the ground now that it wasn’t tensed to properly hold his weight. Swatting at my face with my right hand, I flinched as my nose was filled with the stench of burning flesh.

 

Staring at my hand in surprise, I could see faint wisps of smoke curling up from where my palm had wiped at the spit from my face. No, not spit, acid. I scolded myself for being an idiot and taking a brief glance at Hrolk’s Status confirmed it.

 

There was more to Hrolk than I had realised.

 

The overwhelming majority of the Orcs seized from the Empire had Evolved into Ironskulls or Savages, making them larger and generally more brutish in appearance. Hrolk had evolved as well...but not like the others. Hrolk was a Vileblood, and he was also a Variant.

 

Taking note of the thin trails of smoke snaking from between Hrolk’s lips, I wrapped the fingers on my free hand around his neck and applied pressure. Ignoring the pain beginning to radiate up my arm, I did my best to remain calm.

 

No doubt realising what I was doing, Hrolk renewed his frantic assault by awkwardly clubbing me with his fists, elbows, knees and feet.

 

I ignored it and continued to choke him out, making sure to keep my eyes narrowed to slits in case he attempted to spit more of his corrosive blood into my face. All The while I wondered why Hrolk hadn’t outed himself. I had made no secret of offering immediate citizenship to all Variants. So his choice to go through military service to receive that same privilege was confusing.

 

Unless I was looking at it from the wrong angle.

 

Hrolk could have outed himself at a time, his tiered Evolution would have proven he was a Variant. So he must have decided to scope things out first. At which point I had made my first offer to the Orcs as a group, rewarding them with status and Elixirs as motivations for higher service. Just now, Hrolk had taken two calculated risks to further his pursuit of power. Biding his time to try and face me after I would be worn down by the other Orcs, and then spit me in the face after I made an example of him.

 

Feeling Hrolk go limp, I counted down from ten and then dropped him to the ground. Walking over to an open barrel of water, I cupped some of it into my hands and splashed my face before scrubbing at my arm.

 

A little worried that he might have left tooth marks I would need to explain to Lash, I soon grew more concerned over the blotchy patch of raw skin. I could see it healing in real-time, layers of new skin slowly creeping across the damaged area and displacing flecks of dead skin.

 

Picking up the barrel, I upended it over Hrolk’s unconscious body and then used my foot to nudge him over onto his side so he wouldn’t drown.

 

Hrolk had technically won the contest, managing to deal four points of damage with his staff before dealing another point of damage with his corrosive blood. He would have done more damage, but I had been benefiting from his Acid Resistance Synergy without realising it.

 

Gingerly checking Hrolk’s ribs for signs of damage, I frowned as dirt and grime ran off his face in dirty streaks, partially revealing the pale sickly looking skin beneath. Taking it as another confirmation that Hrolk had been concealing his true identity, I took hold of his limp right arm and dragged him over to rest in the shade of one of the nearby houses.

 

“This contest is over,” I declared, making sure to close my eyes in anticipation of the sudden burst of light, “I am undefeated, and Hrolk delivered the most damage.”

 

“Tiiiiiiim!” Toofy called out through cupped hands over her mouth, looking down the road towards the endless procession of humans before looking towards the training area and craning her neck upwards “Tim!” Toofy called out again, this time more excitedly while pushing her way through the loose throng of Orcs, “Lash says Toofy watch babies and she fight with Tim,” she said eagerly before looking down at Hrolk, “Who this?” Toofy asked curiously, leaning closer and giving Hrolk a inquisitive sniff.

 

“His name is-” I began to answer but was abruptly interrupted.

 

“Him?” Toofy asked in confusion, giving the Ork a hard poke to the chest.

 

“Yes, him,” I replied patiently, “His name is-”

 

“Her,” Toofy stated somewhat absently while prying Hrolk’s jaws open and baring her own teeth in a crude imitation.

 

“Her? Toofy, what are you talking about?” I asked warily, nervously checking my wrist for signs of bite marks as a queasy tension began to build in my guts.

 

“Is she, like Toofy, like Lash,” Toofy replied matter of factly while patting Hrolk down for hidden trinkets, “No shiny...” She muttered with distaste and disappointment in equal measure.

 

“Toofy, you can watch Suzy and Pete so long as Ril and Annette help you,” I agreed nervously, “But I need you to go to Lash, I need to talk with her. Okay?”

 

Toofy grinned happily, “Kay!” She sprinted off back towards her house, disappeared for a handful of seconds and then reemerged carrying Ril on her back and dragging Annette along behind her.

 

After a couple of minutes, Lash left our house, already wearing her armour, and began walking over.

 

The Orks backed out of her way respectfully and made an effort to become busy elsewhere.

 

Grinning with her helmet held under her arm, Lash looked like she might burst the leather straps beneath the iron plates at any moment. “Armour is getting small,” she chuckled, flexing to a chorus of protesting leather and shrieking plates.

 

Distracted by Lash’s performance, I almost didn’t notice Hrolk stirring at my feet. Almost.

 

“Ah, Lash I need you to confirm something for me,” I explained somewhat hesitantly.

 

My tone alone sparked lash’s curiosity and I immediately regretted not having a stronger handle on my emotions.

 

“Well, Toofy thinks Hrolk-” I pointed down at Hrolk for clarification, “Is uh...Well, Toofy’ thinks he's a she,” I explained lamely.

 

Lash glanced down for just a moment before looking back at me again, her eyes narrowing slightly, “Hrolk IS a she,” Lash replied confidently with a hint of wariness.

 

“Oh...” Things just got very dangerous. Not that I was particularly concerned for my own safety so much as Hrolk’s. If Lash found out she tried to-

 

Lash grabbed my forearm and twisted it so my wrist was facing skyward. She leaned in close and narrowed her eyes with murderously cold eyes. Then she shrugged and let go of my arm, apparently no longer worried.

 

“I didn’t let her bite me,” I insisted somewhat guiltily, “I didn’t even know she was a she...”

 

Lash shrugged, “No mark, no rival,” she explained simply before squatting down beside Hrolk and opening Hrolk’s mouth just as Toofy had done. Hrolk blinked several times in obvious panic, but made no attempts to resist as Lash inspected her teeth, “Only eleven, too young!” She rapped her gauntletted knuckles on the crown of Hrolk’s head, causing the smaller ork female to wince in pain.

 

“Eleven?!” my brain struggled to adjust to the blatant absurdity of the assertion vs the physical reality and failed.

 

Lash nodded, “Her teeth are still growing,” she commented as if that clarified things in the slightest.

 

To my eyes, Hrolk’s teeth looked no different to Lash’s after accounting for the overall scale.

 

Lash poked a finger hard into Hrolk’s chest, “Tim is mine,” she stated calmly, “Tim wants no more mates.”

 

Hrolk visibly sagged in disappointment, casting her eyes down to the ground.

 

“You want a strong mate,” Lash continued, taking on a sympathetic and congenial tone, “Sanctuary will have many, in time. I will train you, make you strong for when Mothers Moon returns.”

 

There was no suggestion of a question in Lash’s statement, but Hrolk cautiously looked up into Lash’s eyes and nodded, “Hrolk train, serve, Tyrantess,” she agreed in a chalky gruff voice.

 

Far from how I expected the situation to resolve itself, I still wasn’t sure if I was happy about it or not. The revelation that the Ork Species had tomboy body types was a little unnerving. While I had grown used to the general concept of fighting women as the situations presented themselves, a part of me still rankled at how I had manhandled Hrolk. It disturbed me, even more, knowing that she had attempted to mark me in an equivocal sense to an engagement while she was even younger than Lash...

 

*****

 

Hrolk spat the bloody phlegm from her mouth and onto the ground while pushing herself up to her feet. Keeping a firm grip on her raining spear, Hrolk warily eyes her opponent with newfound respect.

 

The red-haired Human the Tyrantess had named Clarice was far stronger and more capable than she first appeared. Wearing a fierce grin, she had forgone the use of most of her armour and settled for a thick padded cloth bound around her forehead. Intended to dull any strikes against the weak points of the skull and prevent cuts to the forehead, Hrolk had been ordered to wear one just like it.

 

“Again,” the Tyrantess commanded from her place beside the Tyrant.

 

Clarice’s grin widened. Rather than waiting for Hrolk to advance, Clarice dashed forward and swatted aside the shaft of Hrolk’s spear with her own wooden training sword. Before Hrolk could react, pain erupted from her abdomen as Clarice’s knee slammed into her gut.

 

With her enemy already inside of her guard, Hrolk tried not to panic. Jumping backwards, she braced her spear expecting Clarice to follow right behind her.

 

Clarice watched her retreat and then backed away, swinging her long wooden blade up and onto her right shoulder, “You gonna keep running away all day?” Clarice snickered contemptuously, :Or are you gonna fight me like a true warrior?” She nodded her head towards the Tyrantess without breaking eye contact with Hrolk, “Lash seems to think you might have potential. Are you really okay with making her a liar?”

 

Hrolk winced. It was obvious that the red-haired human held the Tyrant and Tyrantess’ favour. But until now, Hrolk had not understood why. Clarice was stronger than her, and that was a bitter draught for Hrolk to swallow.

 

Hrolk shifted her right hand to the rear of her spear and charged.

 

At the last moment, Clarice stepped back and to the side to dodge the blunted point of Hrolk’s spear.

 

Hrolk loosened the grip of her left hand then thrust her spear forwards two additional feet and pushed downward with her right. The head of her spear snapped up under Clarice’s chin and was about to connect when Clarice abruptly turned her head to the side, causing the spear to pass by the side of her head without making contact

 

Clarice had avoided the blow, but it had left her momentarily off balance.

 

Hrolk hurriedly shifted her grip and swept the spear back down and towards Clarice.

 

Falling onto her back to avoid the blow, Clarice rolled to the side and leapt back to her feet again, grinning all the while, “That’s more like it!”

 

Hrolk grimace in frustration and fought the urge to close the distance between them. Thrusting her spear seven times in rapid succession, Hrolk pressed the offensive while doing her best to keep her distance.

 

Unfortunately, Clarice seemed to have little problem dodging or deflecting the spear thrusts without actually giving any ground.

 

All the same, Grolk kept up her assault, hoping that her endurance would win out against the comparatively frail-looking Human.

 

Despite being unnecessary, Clarice shifted to deflecting the blows rather than dodging them, sending shivers down the shaft with each impact. If they had been using real weapons, Hrolk knew her spear would have a number of compromising chunks hacked out of it by now. However, since they were not using real weapons, Hrolk was confident that her spear would remain in serviceable condition.

 

Hrolk dug deep and increased the momentum of her assault, burning mana to make her spear move faster and faster.

 

Infuriatingly, Clarice matched her speed, continuing to swat or knock aside Hrolk’s spear thrusts while grinning back at her.

 

Gritting her teeth, Hrolk made a sweeping strike intended to strike Clarice in the left side just below her ribcage.

 

To Hrolk’s disbelief, Clarice leapt over the spear and came charging straight for her, sweeping her wooden blade along the shaft of Hrolk’s spear.

 

Dropping her spear in a panic, Hrolk immediately realised her mistake but could do nothing to prevent the consequences as Clarice’s wooden blade smacked into her unprotected stomach. Staggering backwards, Hrolk attempted to put some distance between them. However, Clarice was relentless, moving in closer and delivering a swift kick to Hrolk’s thigh before punching Hrolk square in the face.

 

Hrolk fell to the ground stunned.

 

Clarice loomed above her.

 

It took a few moments, but much to Hrolk’s shock, she realised Clarice was offering her a hand to help her up. Humbled by her most recent defeat, Hrolk accepted Clarice’s assistance and stiffly got to her feet.

 

“You did much better that time,” Clarice praised, “I had to use some mana to Parry those attacks just now, so that’s definitely an improvement.” She turned to the Tyrantess, “What do you think, Lash?”

 

“Better,” the Tyrantess agreed impartially, “Still much room to grow.”

 

“Mmm, we should hunt down one of those spear instructors,” Clarice agreed, “Assuming she wants to just be a Spearman?” She looked back at Hrolk, “Is that what you want?”

Hrolk shifted uncomfortably, “I...” She had never given this much thought. Her old master had insisted Hrolk would learn the spear. But he had only done so because it was easy. When he had died, and Hrolk had been sold to the army, she had stopped thinking about it entirely. That was until the Tyrant rescued her and offered freedom.

 

“Maybe we should have one of those fancy Knights come give her some lessons?” Clarice suggested, “Let her get a taste of what’s on offer before settling down on Spearman just because she has it already. I mean, if you are gonna make her an Underlord or something, the Classes she learns now will change what she gets, right?”

 

Hrolk’s heart skipped a beat. The Tyrant was considering making her Underlord?

 

“True,” the Tyrant grunted with agreement.

 

“A Knight?” Hrolk muttered quietly, unsure what Clarice and the Tyrant were talking about.

 

“It’s a Class that specialises in mastering all kinds of different weapons,” Clarice explained, nodding towards the racks of training weapons and shields, “They also get some mounted combat Abilities too,” She pointed to the pair of huge scaly Beasts that were basking in the sun just beyond the training grounds.

 

“I could ride a beast like those?...” Hrolk gasped in awe.

 

“Sure,” Clarice shrugged, “So long as you find your own or Tim Doesn’t mind lending you Ushu, cause I am telling you right now, Dhizi is off limits.”

 

The smaller of the two scaled beasts made a throaty chattering sound of agreement.

 

“I want to ride Beasts!” Hrolk declared eagerly.

 

“Thought you might,” Clarice grinned savagely, “So I’ll tell you what. If you can knock me on my ass, I’ll-”

 

Hrolk didn’t hesitate, throwing her right fist hard at Clarice’s face.

 

Eyes widening slightly in surprise, Clarice almost managed to dodge the blow in spite of being caught off guard. Almost, but not quite.

 

The knuckles of Hrolk’s fist caught Clarice on the jaw and knocked her to the ground.

 

There was a long silence.

 

“Fuck me,” Clarice grunted, rubbing at her jaw, “That’s not a great way to make friends you know?”

 

Hrolk felt a pang of regret, she had misunderstood the situation and-

 

“Yeah...That’s probably my fault,” the Tyrant grunted uncomfortably, “I made this whole speech about doing whatever it takes to win...and Hrolk was the one I made an example out of...”

 

Clarice shook her head and laughed while somewhat shakily getting to her feet, “I thought I was gonna have to teach her that one myself.” She turned to face Hrolk again and gave her a sly grin, “A deals a deal, but I’m gonna make you pay for that,” Clarice promised with a savage grin.

 

Hrolk did her best to stand her ground and mask how intimidated she felt by that promise.

 

“Follow me,” Clarice spun on her heel and waved for Hrolk to follow her, “It’s about time Ushu And Dhizi got some exercise anyway.”

 

“Hang on, where are you taking them?” the Tyrant asked warily, “There are too many civilians in the way.”

 

Clarice paused, “I was thinking about a quick trip to Sanctuary,” she explained casually, “The swamp will give Ushu and Dhizi a chance to hunt for their food and get some real exercise. Can also teach Hrolk how to unlock a couple of Beast Classes while we are at it.”

 

“That's...actually not a bad idea,” the Tyrant agreed supportively, “But be careful, got it?”

 

“Of course,” Clarice agreed with a broad grin.

 

“We will obey your command!” Hrolk promised, bowing her head in deference to the Tyrant and Tyrantess.

 

Clarice rolled her eyes, “We’re gonna work on that too,” she added to Hrolk’s immense surprise, “You probably get enough of that bowing and scraping when Gregory is around. No need to put up with it at home too, right?”

 

The Tyrant grunted in agreement.

 

Shadowing Clarice, Hrolk leaned in closer once they were out of earshot, “Why disrespect the Tyrant?” She hissed uncomfortably.

 

Clarice gave her a pitying look in return, “Because Tim doesn’t like being the Tyrant, not all the time anyway. When he’s not doing official stuff, he wants to relax, and he can’t do that with people carrying on and calling him Tyrant every other minute. That goes for Lash too. She might like the title and authority, but she loves Tim, get it? So you can kiss her ass all you want, but not when Tim’s around and it isn’t official business.”

 

“Hrolk understands...” Hrolk bowed her head respectfully, earning a long-suffering sigh from Clarice.

 

“And Hrolk? Never pull that shit with me. I ain't your boss. If you and me are gonna get along, you need to cut that shit out right now, got it?” Clarice grunted while lifting a pile of tangled leather straps and metal buckles.

 

Hrolk nodded, trying to look more confident than she felt. The Tyrantess had to have chosen Clarice to be her sparring partner for a reason.

 

“Good!” Clarice grunted happily, “Now help me with Dhizi’s saddle. It’s a bitch and a half to put on her by myself.”