Someone's Savior
"Eve, you know where we're headed, right?"
"Of course. We're going into the orc-populated zone, right?"
"Exactly."
Eve adjusted her course northwest, and we sprinted through the pitch-black forest.
"Kals?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
Right now, Eve was the only one who knew who we truly were, so Kals naturally addressed me formally.
Unlike when he spoke casually, he looked completely at ease.
"How's the shield's durability?"
"I'd say it's above 85%."
"Good."
Kals was equipped with the Shield of Balance, and so was Eve.
We had stolen those from the black market in Aulrax's back alleys.
[Armor] A shield forged for the arbiter of the Rule-less Arena.
Designed small to be used alongside a sword, yet surprisingly sturdy and heavy.
Allows use of the bound skill Roll-Strike.
We were trekking through the forest at midnight to awaken that shield.
Item awakening—
it meant that an item under certain conditions would be reborn with new appearance and functions.
'Of course, not every item can awaken.'
And even when they did, they didn't become entirely new.
The rank remained the same, though the appearance changed.
'Just a few added functions at best?'
A modest upgrade.
Or maybe more of a side-grade.
That was what awakening was.
But right now, I was planning to use this modest mechanic to clear a quest—
since the Shield of Balance we'd fought so hard for at the black market was intended for exactly that.
I raised my voice toward the small figure running ahead in the dark.
"Eve, you're going after the Stone Crystal, right?"
She flinched mid-stride.
"…How did you know that?"
I chuckled.
"Just a hunch. You're the type who can't stand seeing your team get hurt, so I figured you'd invest in defense."
"That's… annoyingly accurate. I'd really prefer if you'd get out of my head."
"Simple deduction."
When the Shield of Balance is fused with the Stone Crystal, it evolves into the Balancer of Stone.
With that, you could achieve absolute defense in the rocky hills ahead.
"You were originally planning to combine it with the Grass Crystal to protect your strike squad, weren't you?"
"…Get out of my head before I kill you."
Eve shuddered in frustration, reading twice in a row.
I snickered at her reaction.
She glanced back at me and said,
"You'll be going for the Flame Crystal, obviously? Since you're running the Torrent strategy?"
"Of course."
"Need help with that? Should I give up the Stone Crystal and head your way?"
"..."
Her words struck me strangely.
Help.
Sure, I'd gotten plenty of support from Kals and Tyrbaen up to this point—
but hearing that word from someone who understood this game like I did… it hit differently.
It reminded me—I wasn't alone.
But I shook my head.
"Not necessary. What about you?"
"Same here."
We both knew what we had to do.
Compared to the incoming Ultra Wave,
retrieving what we each needed from the orc settlement was a trivial task.
We didn't need each other's help.
"Be careful."
"You too."
As soon as we entered the orc-dense region, Eve vanished without a trace.
"Let's move, Kals."
"Yes, Your Highness."
I sprinted toward the place where the Flame Crystal was said to be.
I visualized strategies and tactics in my mind, setting my goal.
Finish within thirty minutes.
There was no need to drag this out.
I planned to retrieve the Flame Crystal and escape within half an hour.
Ah, but…
"Come to think of it, there's one more thing we need to get, isn't there?"
"You mean the Orc Warrior's Soulstone for Shark Robren?"
"Right, that one. You remembered?"
"I rather liked that fellow."
"Oh, really? Then you can handle it!"
"Wait, how did it become my job?"
Laughing, Kals and I charged deeper into the black forest.
Moments later, a bustling orc village came into view—
the settlement of the Flame Orc Tribe.
This was where the items we needed were.
* * *
In the northwestern hunting zone where Gilroshan and Eve had entered—
there were five small orc villages in total:
Fire, Water, Grass, Stone, and Iron.
Small settlements of green orcs, each bearing a different symbol upon their chest.
But aside from them, there were others—
orcs belonging to no tribe, living in solitude.
Namely, the Orc Shamans.
"...Shriiik."
An orc shaman with long white tusks jutting from his beard sat deep within a cave, asleep.
His aged nostrils flared busily with every breath he drew and released—until…
"Subdue him."
A low voice issued the command from the cave entrance.
"Shriek! Who goes there?!"
The orc shaman's eyes snapped open.
Sparks flared at his wrinkled fingertips.
[Offensive Magic: Axe Fury]
Two gleaming white axes tore through the air,
real, tangible conjurations born of magic.
"...!"
"...!"
The two masked figures charging him hesitated for a moment—
the spell had been aimed perfectly at them.
Their skulls would have been split open in seconds.
But the axes shattered easily.
[Counter Magic: Trick Throw]
A pale light flooded in from outside the cave,
erasing the summoned axes completely.
"Ch-tch! Damn it!"
The startled orc shaman began chanting another spell—
but it was too late.
"Not so fast!"
Slash. Slash.
The two masked figures closed in instantly,
severing both his wrists before he could finish.
"Shrieeeek!"
Blood spattered as the shaman crumpled to the floor.
"Target subdued, High Priestess!"
They sheathed their swords and knelt toward the cave mouth.
Then the High Priestess emerged slowly.
Step. Step.
The one who had used holy magic from outside to effortlessly dispel the shaman's attack.
"Well done."
A woman with a displeased look stepped into the dim cave.
She was Ervia Watts, second-in-command of the Crimson Priesthood of the Cathedral of Kishiris.
With a sigh, Ervia brushed back her short, chestnut-brown hair—cut nearly as short as a man's.
"This cave gives me the creeps… almost as much as this mission."
The two masked subordinates removed their masks, smiling faintly.
"We can't help it."
"It's all for the glory of Lady Kishiris, after all."
But Ervia only shook her head.
And she thought to herself.
"Glory, my ass. This isn't for the gods of the Celestial Realm — it's for us to claim glory for ourselves."
Originally, this mission hadn't been hers.
It was supposed to be carried out by the former High Priestess, Vareshan, the one who had drafted the operation in the first place...
"She suddenly retired and vanished without a word."
Considering how hot-tempered and battle-hungry Vareshan had always been — more like a warhound than a priestess — that was strange.
Either way, the title of High Priestess had been hastily passed on to Ervia, and with it, she'd inherited this mission as well.
"Not that I like it, but what can you do?"
...When they say jump, you jump.
"Hand me that."
When Ervia held out her hand, the attendant priests offered her a heavy iron object.
It was a restraint collar —
essentially shackles made large enough to fit around a neck.
Ervia slowly approached the orc shaman.
The creature didn't move, as if it had already accepted its fate.
"So, I just put this on like this—"
Clack.
"And all I have to do is channel my divine power into it, and it'll trigger a monster flood, right?"
Since she hadn't crafted the device herself, Ervia couldn't be sure.
She was just following the instructions left by her predecessor.
"She said to begin at midnight, so… we've got some time left?"
Ervia scratched her head.
"Yes, we arrived too early."
"Ah! That's probably why the shaman wasn't fully asleep and resisted, huh?"
"...Sorry for being so damn diligent, then."
Ignoring the subtle looks of annoyance from the junior priests, Ervia glanced toward the cave's mouth.
A moonlit sky, clouds drifting across its pale face.
"Somewhere out there, there must be people sleeping soundly, unaware of what's coming tonight."
A grimace crept across her face as the uneasy feeling returned—
—Ervia, High Priestess.
A faint voice brushed against her mind.
It was the voice of someone she knew all too well, carried through long-distance communication magic.
"Oh, Archbishop Grace?"
It was the Archbishop's voice, coming from the northern fortress overseeing this hunting ground.
—Yes. I cast this spell because there's something urgent I must tell you.
"...?"
How urgent could it be?
Using unplanned long-distance telepathy like this consumed an enormous amount of mana —
especially over such a distance.
That meant what Grace was about to say was both important and time-critical.
—You must not trigger the flood tonight. Under no circumstances!
Ervia frowned.
"What kind of nonsense is this now?"
She just wanted to finish quickly and go home.
…but when they say jump, you jump.
"Then what should we do? Should we start tomorrow night instead?"
But the Archbishop on the other end of the spell was infuriatingly vague.
—Handle it as you see fit.
"Excuse me? What's that supposed to mean—"
—If you send your attendants toward the area where the children are, you'll understand what I mean. That's all.
"Wait, Archbishop!"
The telepathic link cut off abruptly.
"...Ha."
This damned clergy life. Maybe I should quit too.
Clack!
With an irritated gesture, Ervia unlocked the shackle from the orc shaman's neck and stood up.
"You two — head to the rocky hills right now, check the situation, and report back."
"Yes, ma'am!"
The moment they heard her low, tense voice, the attendants realized something was wrong and hurried off.
Then Ervia began channeling healing magic into the orc shaman's wrists.
His hands didn't regenerate, but the bleeding stopped immediately.
"Shriik… what are you doing?"
The bewildered orc asked.
But the High Priestess just scratched the side of her head and sighed deeply.
"That's what I'd like to know. Damn it."
"...?"
"What the hell is going on here?"
She truly had no idea.
And at that same moment—
Gilroshan and Kals were stealthily infiltrating the center of the orc settlement.
I was moving slowly beside Kals, gripping my Rapidshot Bow.
"Roughly fifty of them."
About that many orcs were currently wandering around the Flame Tribe village.
It was the middle of the night, so not all were awake —
but plenty of guards were still patrolling, grunting and snorting through the dark.
Right now, we were starring in our own covert-action movie.
"..."
"..."
To fool their sharp noses,
Kals and I had stolen a couple of orc's shabby leather armors,
moving only through the shadows where moonlight couldn't reach.
'Your Highness, I think I'm going to throw up.'
'I think I already am.'
Whatever this armor was made of, the stench rising from it was unbearable.
[Unexpected Event: "Cosplay Gone Too Far" has occurred!]
[Charm +1]
Why my charm went up, I had no idea.
Either way, it smelled like hugging a homeless drunkard.
But there was no other choice.
"...Don't you smell something human? Shriik!"
"Shriik! You've eaten enough already, glutton!"
These orcs literally treated humans as walking food.
If we walked around normally, they'd sniff us out in seconds.
'If Tyrbaen or the magi were here, we wouldn't have to do this.'
We could've just launched a surprise spell bombardment and cut down whatever was left.
But right now, conserving mana was critical.
'We'll need every drop for the defense at dawn.'
That's why I only brought Kals with me.
We already knew where our targets were.
All we had to do was reach the barracks deep within the orc camp.
'There!'
I signaled to Kals.
'Open those crates piled over there.'
While I kept watch, Kals slipped toward a stack of large wooden boxes.
"Ugh."
Even stronger odors made him cover his nose as he rummaged through them.
'Your Highness, found it!'
He soon lifted something with excitement —
the Orc Warrior's Soulstone for Shark Robren.
'Perfect! Next is the Flame Crystal. It should be…'
I was mouthing directions to Kals when—
"Shriik?"
From behind his delighted face came three rough voices.
"You two—what are you doing here?"
"Oh, something smells tasty."
"Shriiiik! Humans!"
Three orcs had suddenly appeared.
Not an entirely unexpected situation —
which was why I already had an arrow notched in Rapidshot, half-drawn and ready.
But something else moved faster than my arrow.
[Combat Skill: Triple Cut]
Without even turning around, Kals drew his sword and moved like a gust of wind.