novelraw Chapter 62 : The Orcs Are Weird
Chapter 62 : The Orcs Are Weird
The Orcs Are Weird
Orc.
One of the monster races that appear in Dungeon God.
If one had to sum up their characteristics, it would be that they are battle maniacs who live and die for fighting.
This is a crazy race that, in the name of a baptismal ceremony, submerges newborn infants in water and tosses young children, not even adults, into the dungeon to grant them a true "orc rite."
If I say this much, doesn't one particular class come to mind?
That's right. The barbarian.
Fight and fight again.
Kill and kill again.
A mad race that possesses the barbarian tendency of being unable to communicate through words.
Because of this, I felt cold sweat run down my back.
"Human, human!"
In the midst of this, an orc spotted me, raised its weapon, and started shouting.
Should I run?
With my blood gone, I couldn't use the skeleton exoskeleton, and the same went for "curse".
To fight in this situation would be the act of a fool. However, escaping wasn't much better.
This is a desert dungeon of unknown origin. Even if I tried to escape here, I couldn't guarantee I'd survive the cold, not to mention that shaking off orcs riding mounts would be nearly impossible.
What should I do?
What am I supposed to do?
While I hesitated, the orcs approached.
"Human!"
"Khrrk, human!"
The orcs kept looking at me, repeating the word "human".
As the cries of the approaching orcs echoed over the desert, I carefully gripped the handle of the Blood-Colored Awl.
"Human, human!"
"Human!"
Yes, human, that's what I am.
Before I knew it, a group of orcs had surrounded me, repeating the same word over and over.
Seeing these dirty-looking orcs with tusks sticking out all gathered together was enough to make my stomach turn.
But was it lucky or unlucky?
I didn't feel any hostility from the orcs.
"Human!!!!!!"
"What do you want me to do?!"
Unable to help myself, I responded to the orcs, and out of the noisy crowd, a massive shadow emerged.
This one was a different caliber compared to the other orcs.
Its huge body was encased in plate armor that glinted in the torchlight, and the dull clanging of metal as it moved sent chills down my spine.
This guy—
He's a higher-rank orc.
He pointed at me and spoke.
"This, human language difficult!"
What?
I frowned in confusion, staring at him.
Then the orc general spoke up again.
"Difficult! Human language!"
I wasn't hearing things.
* * *
What are the odds of suddenly falling into a desert dungeon and encountering an orc who can speak human language?
What are the chances that such an orc would even feel "favorable" toward me?
"Kkrrk, krrrrrrrk!"
"Human, human!"
"Human! Krrrrrrk!"
The orcs started clapping while calling me "human".
Some even knelt in formal greeting.
Dumbfounded, I let out a hollow laugh as the orc general approached me and spoke.
"I understand that you are confused."
Honestly, you're the most baffling one here. With that appearance and aura, you look like you could slap Barkal across the face, yet you speak so politely.
The gruff voice with girlish speech patterns—it felt like my brain was being continually assaulted.
"Human language is hard. Only the upper class like me can master it perfectly."
Should I say you can master it perfectly, though?
Something felt off. It was even stranger than a blue-eyed, blond foreigner speaking flawless Korean.
"I'm the one who taught them the word 'human', by the way."
Hmm.
I let out a short sigh.
"My name is Grom. What is yours?"
"Dmihtan. Dmihtan Elvar."
"Nice to meet you, Dmihtan."
Such a noble lady's manner of speech. Yet the deep breath from his nostrils and the smile that emphasized his tusks just didn't match those words at all.
I didn't know what might come at the end of this bizarre situation, but there were things I needed to ask.
"Are orcs usually this friendly toward humans?"
"Friendly, you say."
The orc who introduced himself as Grom stroked his tusks and replied.
"Absolutely not. You are special."
For a moment I felt chills run down my back. I could not get used to that manner of speech.
Learning another language indicated high intelligence. Where and from whom did he learn it?
Grom glared with bulging eyes and said,
"All humans are killed."
Even though he had a lady-like tone, his voice was chilling.
"That is the will of our god, berog."
"Then why am I being spared?"
I questioned Grom.
The orc god. The teachings of "Berog."
Nothing stands above the orc.
Destroy everything beneath you.
Simply put, it means kill everything except orcs.
Despite such a brutal doctrine, neither Grom nor the other orcs showed any thought of harming me.
They had been filled with murderous intent toward Z-Avava, but backed off as soon as I said she was my companion.
Breaking the tense silence, grom answered in a deep, booming voice that echoed from beneath his helmet.
"It's because you are a hunter."
A hunter?
I glanced at his protruding tusks, awaiting Grom's explanation.
"The city of our rock fist orcs was destroyed by monsters that crawled out of the Abyss."
Such a serious expression—
But the tone told a different story.
"All the kin in that city perished. We who are here were absent for some reason."
Grom clenched his fist. The plate gauntlet creaked.
"We are the only surviving rock fist orcs."
No matter how strong a race the orcs are, it seems they were powerless against the monsters of the Abyss.
"That's why we wander the continent, soothing the souls of our fallen kin."
The orcs' memorial rite—
Grom added,
"We will destroy everything that is associated with the Abyss."
Despite the solemn goal, the unfitting speech made me squeeze my eyes tightly shut again.
"That is also why we did not attack you. You smell like a hunter."
"I don't know what you are trying to say."
"It's simple."
Grom said this and pointed to the Blood-Colored Awl that I was holding.
"I smell the blood of an abyssal monster from the rock fist city on that."
"The smell of blood?"
Grom nodded at my question. Then, flaring his nostrils, he sniffed like a hunting dog.
"It's certain. There's no mistaking this scent."
The other orcs sniffed in unison, following Grom. The sight of a dozen massive orcs all sniffing was comical but also scary.
"You have fought with creatures of the Abyss."
Grom spoke in a confident voice.
"Of all the abyssal scents I have encountered, yours is the strongest. It must have been a truly monstrous foe."
At first, I didn't know what he meant, but then I remembered what happened under Iushil's underground.
A dungeon falling to the Abyss. The black knight that appeared within it.
The only one to have harmed that monstrous being and drawn blood was my Blood-Colored Awl.
"An abyssal hunter is our kin. Even if he is human."
Suddenly, grom shouted and raised both arms into the air.
The other orcs instantly echoed him with shouts.
"Human!"
"Human, human!"
"Human!!!!"
The only word I could understand, and that the orcs could use as well.
As they all shouted "human" again and again, the sight was strange, but their cries, weapons in hand, echoed across the desert.
"Comrades!!"
Is there any reason to dislike orcs looking at me favorably?
If I tried to point my sword at them, I'd likely be killed, so I decided to let it pass for now.
"Is your purpose here also related to the Abyss?"
"This dungeon has been abandoned for a long time, so we thought it necessary to look around."
Grom—an orc who showed intelligence.
"Which means you entered personally."
At his words, I smiled.
If he entered personally, that means he knows the exit.
* * *
When I asked Grom to show me the location of the portal he had used to enter the dungeon, he readily agreed.
After spending the night at the temple, we headed for the dungeon entrance as soon as daylight broke.
Finally, it was time to say goodbye to the desert—that was scorchingly hot during the day, and unbelievably cold at night.
"So why were you wandering the desert?" asked Grom.
I explained what had happened, skipping over the details about "Mortis" and "divine rank", and simply said I was caught up in the collapse of a dungeon.
The orcs, who seemed to have their own sense of direction, escorted me to the entrance without losing their way.
I had unwittingly gained a chance to escape. I thanked the rock fist orcs.
"Thank you for your help, grom—and all the rock fist orcs."
The orcs started talking amongst themselves, seemingly not understanding my words.
Grom, stepping in, translated into orcish. The orcs beat their chests—BAM!—and nodded.
"Abyssal hunter!"
Just before parting, grom called out to me, handing me a horse that had been among their group.
"Take this. It will help you."
It would definitely be helpful. After escaping the desert dungeon, I had no idea how far I would have to go to meet my companions again.
In that sense, this means of transportation was the best gift possible.
"Grom, I don't think I have a deep enough connection with you to receive this."
Still, I wasn't shameless enough to just accept it.
They not only helped me escape the dungeon, but also gave me a horse.
It would take nerves of steel to accept it without hesitation.
"This is a debt. Abyssal hunter, you and we will meet again."
I wasn't so sure, but it seemed Grom thought differently.
"When that day comes, treat us as we've treated you."
As he approached me, grom handed me the horse's reins with his rough hand.
"Thank you. As you said, I'll repay this debt."
Krrrng.
Grom inhaled deeply, then exhaled roughly through his nostrils.
Hot steam rose from his nose like a bull. He exuded masculine energy just by standing there.
"May you find peace at last, meeting the spring breeze after a long winter."
But his farewell, coming from Grom's lips, was so full of feminine aura.
"Grom."
There was something I wanted to ask him.
Just who did he learn human language from?
It wasn't some noble lady, was it?
I wanted to ask, but—
"It's nothing."
It was too hard to tell the fearsome Grom, right to his face, "You totally talk like a noble lady."
***
**New Names, locations, skills, and Techniques**