“There's a limit to everything, even when you're cornered. This is completely different from our original plan, isn't it?”
“Br-Brother?”
Seeing Patrick, who was clearly furious, Tutan cautiously spoke to him. And Patrick said to Tutan.
“Fall back this instant.”
“But, Brother. We are in the middle of a battle.”
“I know we're in battle. Just fall back for now!”
There was no time for persuasion. Patrick spoke, oppressing Tutan with a dreadful killing intent. In that moment, Tutan flinched.
Fighting to the end without retreating in the midst of battle was the creed and fighting instinct of the Orc tribe. However, the moment he faced the killing intent pouring out from Patrick, he almost retreated unconsciously. The desire to just turn and run without looking back welled up inside him.
Tutan, who desperately suppressed that feeling, said.
“I cannot retreat and leave the Chieftain behind.”
Just overcoming Patrick's intimidation and presenting such a compromise was a great feat. And Patrick then spotted Turanta, who was already surrounded by numerous Ogres, fighting a bloody battle.
“That mister, really… Fine, I get it. I get it.”
Patrick immediately threw his body toward Turanta.
And then…
‘I’ll end this in one go.’
It would put a strain on his not-yet-fully-grown frame, but it could not be helped. The two dantians settled in Patrick's dantian fiercely spewed out energy that flowed through the meridians of his entire body.
And then…
Twin Dragon Eight Sword Forms Fourth Form Twin Dragons Frenzied Dance In that moment, the pair of twin swords Patrick was holding drew lines in the empty air. The lines started as two, became four, then eight, then sixteen, and continued to multiply, until they eventually filled the entire area within reach of Patrick's sword energy.
Kwoooaargh. Khaaaang!
The Ogres touched by those lines screamed and groaned in pain. In the agony of having their limbs torn off and bodies split apart, five Ogres died on the spot.
Crack.
“Damn… that was tough.”
Patrick forced his dislocated shoulder and elbow joints back into place. In truth, the form had not even been executed satisfactorily, yet it had already strained his body. Normally, a proper Twin Dragons Frenzied Dance should be able to unleash more than 216 strikes in a single breath.
In his prime, Radiant Dragon Grandmaster Jin Cheon could effortlessly unleash over 1,000 strikes in a single breath. But now, despite it being just a little over 100 strikes, his body was strained. However, even this was enough to succeed in saving Turanta, who had been surrounded by Ogres.
“Chieftain mister, I definitely told you to fall back as soon as it started, didn't I?”
“Mm, my mistake. I was too caught up in the fight…”
“Ah, seriously, give the order now. Tell them to retreat!”
“Must I? We can still figh…”
“Do you want to die? Or do you want to retreat?”
Patrick applied pressure with an air that said he would cut his throat if he uttered another word. At those words, Turanta shouted as if he had no choice.
“Retreat! All units, retreat!”
And as the Chieftain's order was given, the Orcs of the Red Rock Tribe also began to fall back. Watching them retreat, Patrick let out a sigh of relief.
‘Still, it’s a relief they listen to their Chieftain.’
Grrrrr... Khaaarrrgh!
Seeing the Orcs of the Red Rock Tribe retreat, the King Ogre shouted in a loud voice. Don't let them escape. Catch and kill them all.
At the king's command, filled with resolute will, the Ogres simultaneously chased after the fleeing Orcs.
Khaaaargh! Kuuoooooo!
Beasts of prey chasing their quarry can only see that one thing. They charge forward with the sole thought of catching that prey, tearing its flesh, pulling out its innards, drinking its blood, and chewing its meat. And the race that specializes in luring such beasts into traps is none other than humans.
“Aim!”
At Sanson's command, the human soldiers drew their arrows. However, these were not ordinary arrows. Every arrowhead was wrapped in oil-soaked cloth, which was then set on fire.
And then…
“Fire!”
With Sanson's command, flaming arrows cut through the air. The flaming arrows that flew through the air struck the Orc tribe's tents and various odds and ends, which the Orcs had vacated upon retreating.
And then… Fwhoosh!
The flames from the arrows that landed on the tents spread with surprising speed.
“It worked. It's a success.”
“It was worth soaking all the tents in oil.”
“Burn, burn to the ground!”
The soldiers cheered loudly at the successful operation. Thanks to having meticulously soaked the village's tents and the wood prepared for firewood in oil, the flames spread with incredible speed. And the Ogres, suddenly engulfed in flames, panicked and scurried about in confusion.
An Ogre's thick hide would not burn in an ordinary fire, but it was a creature's instinct to panic when flames shot up from all sides. And not missing that opening, Patrick shouted.
“Now is the time! All forces, reverse course!”
“Brother!”
“What now?”
“What's 'reverse course'?”
At Tutan's question, Patrick squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. These ignorant bastards.
Right.
What did I expect from you guys?
“Fight again!”
At Patrick's words, the Orcs charged toward the Ogres as if they had been waiting for it.
“Uwooooargh!”
“Let's goooo!”
So what if they are a little dumb? As long as they fight well, that is all that matters.
Grrrrrr… Khaarrgh!
The Ogres, panicked by the flames, were unable to display their numerical advantage as they had before. The Ogres engulfed in flames inside the village were busy patting out the fire clinging to them, and a few that escaped the flames to the outside were met by enraged Orcs.
“Kill them all!”
“Uwoooargh!”
Unlike before, the Orcs steadily maintained a semi-circular encirclement formation and picked off the Ogres. Because only a small number of Ogres had come out, panicked by the fire, they were able to deal with them in a familiar way. Watching the scene, Turanta could only nod his head.
“Astonishing. Is this the result of what humans call a 'plan'?”
Turanta was amazed. In truth, it was such a simple strategy that it was almost embarrassing to call it a plan. Before the Ogres attacked, they prepared firewood and various flammable materials in the Orc village, meticulously soaking them in oil to prepare for a fire attack.
Then, when the battle started, they would pretend to fight a little before falling back, and after that, shoot flaming arrows at the Ogres. It was a simple strategy created without much thought, because the opponent was a simple-minded monster. The problem, however, was that even this simple strategy did not align with the Orcs' nature.
[We are a warrior race. We don't need such petty tricks in battle.]
[That might be true for you misters. But I'm human, so it's okay for me to do it, right?]
[…]
With the thought, ‘Is that so?’, he ended up permitting Patrick's plan. He did not like the idea of burning down the entire village, but he had no choice but to be convinced by Patrick's words that the village would be useless if they were all dead anyway.
However, even after devising the plan, the Orcs had become so consumed by their fighting spirit at the beginning of the battle that they forgot all about the plan and immersed themselves in combat. But now, seeing the results, the effect of the humans' plan was certainly overwhelming. It had turned the tide of an unfavorable battle in an instant.
“Warriors! Defeat the enemy!”
“Uwaaaaaargh!”
Turanta once again stood at the forefront, encouraging his kin as he dove into battle. Following the fire attack, thanks to the fierce performance of the Orc warriors, the number of Ogres dwindled one by one.
Just then… Kwoaaaaaaaaaaargh!
At the resounding roar, everyone froze for a moment. Orcs, Ogres, and even the humans aiming their arrows from afar—everyone froze. Just from hearing the roar, some even lost strength in their legs and collapsed to the ground.
“Th… That's…”
“The King Ogre.”
It was recognizable at a glance, even from a distance. A frame much larger than a regular Ogre and skin of a red color. The giant club in its hand looked thicker than a temple pillar.
The King Ogre, enraged by the deaths of its underlings, had stepped to the front.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The King Ogre nonchalantly stomped on the burning Orc tribe's tents as it approached the Orcs. While it is a creature's instinct to be wary and fearful of fire, it seemed that even that posed no threat to the King Ogre now.
“It's coming! Everyone, prepare yourselves!”
Turanta commanded as he watched the approaching King Ogre.
Yes.
That thing was the problem from the beginning. If it were just a few dozen Ogres, it would have been a fight worth taking, even at the risk of annihilation, but the reason he had to admit this battle was unwinnable was because of that monster.
Even he, the strongest warrior in the tribe, was nothing more than mere prey against that King Ogre. But so what?
‘I will fight.’
When a battle breaks out, he had to be the one at the very front. That was his duty as Chieftain.
“Everyone, follow m—” “That's enough, stay back.”
Just as Turanta was about to charge forward. Patrick, with a frame not even half Turanta's size, blocked his path and spoke. And Turanta said.
“Patrick, it is impossible alone.”
“Enough, get out of the way. You're a hindrance.”
And Patrick pushed past Turanta and walked forward. Patrick's steps, as he walked forward with swords dangling in both hands, were slow and light compared to the King Ogre's, but strangely, no one could take their eyes off him.
“Young master…”
“Does he intend to do it? Against that monster?”
“Even if it's the young master…”
The soldiers watching the scene from afar squeezed their eyes shut in anxiety. They knew Patrick was monstrously strong. They knew, but still, was not this monster one against which even Patrick could not easily guarantee victory?
Among the anxious soldiers, Sanson spoke.
“Everyone, have faith.”
“And watch. Watch the young master achieve victory.”
There was no detailed explanation as to why he would win. But the moment Sanson said this, the soldiers thought.
Yes.
If it is the young master, he can win. He will undoubtedly win. They had already faithfully executed the plan Patrick had ordered in this battle.
All that was left now was to believe in their lord's victory and wait.
Grrrrr…
The King Ogre also saw Patrick. A small, young human who would leave no trace if it grabbed him with one hand and squeezed. Such a human was approaching it, holding small metal sticks in both hands that were fit only to be toothpicks.
Small.
Small things are weak. Such a weak being dared to show hostility before it. The Ogre, its kingly pride wounded, expressed its displeasure with a great roar.
Khaaaaaaaaargh!
Patrick did not even blink at the King Ogre's roar. However, while there was no sign of intimidation, there was also none of his usual sarcasm or flippant air. He was simply focused on the giant monster before him.
“You really are a monster.”
Patrick admitted it too. After coming to this world, he had seen Brian, who could only be described as small fry, and later, even when facing rather famous mercenaries in the thieves' guild dispute, none had been up to his standards.
In his past life as the Radiant Dragon Grandmaster, they were weaklings he could have killed with a single finger, and even to his current young self, they were not much of a threat. But that King Ogre. That thing is different.
He had anticipated it to some extent, but seeing it in person, the King Ogre's strength far surpassed Patrick's expectations.
“It's been a while.”
Patrick licked his lips and took a stance with the swords in both his hands.
“Fighting with my life on the line, that is.”
Grrrrr…
A smile on his face, Patrick gestured with his finger and said.
“What are you doing?”
Grrr…
“Come on, you bastard.”