The Hunter of Hawk and Wolf-Chapter 25 : Chapter 25

Orc.
Hearing the word, the three members of the Tusk Tribe went from agitated to furious, bellowing in a language foreign to the continent.
Seeing their reaction, Teresse realized her mistake.
“Fernoka? Can you tell me what I did wrong?”
“To the Tusk Tribe, the word ‘Orc’ is like saying, ‘You are not a people of this continent, but simply monsters.’”
“But ‘Tusk Tribe’ isn’t in the Imperial dictionary.”
“No, but the Imperial legal code contains a rather memorable line: ‘Races other than human, even if capable of communication, are to be treated as unclaimed property.’”
Teresse finally understood her blunder. She muttered to herself, “I should’ve escaped that place sooner.”
But regret wouldn’t mend the damage.
The Tusk Tribe warriors gripped their weapons and advanced, ready to make the three of them pay for the insult.
Legra scurried over to Teresse. “S-So, what do we do now?”
Teresse watched the approaching tribesmen and bowed her head.
“I’m sorry!” she cried.
“You think an apology will save you?!” Legra retorted.
As the boy suggested, the Tusk Tribe continued their advance, showing no sign of forgiveness.
But Teresse was unconcerned that her apology was not accepted.
It was never an apology for her slip of the tongue.
“I’m sorry… for killing you.”
The moment Teresse revealed the true meaning of her apology, Sevha dropped silently from a tree behind the Tusk Tribe.
He landed just as his handaxe came down on a tribesman’s head.
Thwok!
The remaining tribesmen spun around at the sound of their comrade’s skull splitting open.
Before they could so much as swing their weapons, Sevha’s handaxe struck their legs.
With their legs crippled, the tribesmen collapsed, unable to support their heavy bodies.
Sevha brought his handaxe down on their heads without mercy.
Thwok! Thwok! Thwok!
When the tribesmen were nothing but mangled flesh, Sevha shook the blood from his axe and let out a breath.
He turned and glared at Teresse, hissing, “I told you not to provoke them.”
“Sorry.”
Teresse’s ready apology seemed to catch Sevha off guard. He sheathed his handaxe at his waist.
“Forget it. Given the nature of the Tusk Tribe, it would have ended this way anyway.”
“Their nature?” Legra asked.
Teresse looked away in embarrassment and explained softly, “Orcs… The Tusk Tribe has a strong reproductive drive, whether male or female.”
Sevha cleared his throat, as if weighing whether to answer.
Evasively, he said, “They were males, and Te…na is a female specimen.”
“A
lady
, not female specimen,” Teresse corrected.
“Ah, right. A lady.”
Fernoka, on the other hand, whispered something into Legra’s ear without hesitation.
Hearing his words, Legra recoiled in disgust.
“In any case, we need to move. Now,” Sevha said. “The Tusk Tribe always travels with its clan. There will be others nearby, and they won’t forgive those who killed their kin.”
The Tusk Tribe were nomads who roamed the continent. Seeing one meant that hundreds more would not be far behind.
“But before we leave…” Sevha seized Fernoka by the collar again. “Let’s finish our conversation.”
“Did our conversation not already conclude?”
Sevha said nothing, his eyes sharp, and Fernoka smiled benignly.
“As I said before, I have no intention of ing you to the Papal See.”
“And as I asked before, why?”
“Because I… dislike the Pope.”
“What?”
“It is what it is. Besides, you’ll need me to enter Rasseu. As adventurers without credentials, you can’t get in without a guarantor.”
Sevha was naturally suspicious of Fernoka.
He plans to use us for something…
But Sevha couldn’t guess what for, or how.
He glanced at Teresse.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded.
Sevha clicked his tongue and released Fernoka.
“I thank you for your benevolent decision.”
“Shut it. Pack your things and put out the fire.”
Just as Sevha gave the order, a howl echoed from the distance. It was too loud to be a wolf.
Sevha paused, then stated flatly, “A nearby village is being plundered.”
Sevha’s party quickly packed their belongings and left the forest.
Despite the unsettling start, their journey to Rasseu, the capital of Blanc Territory, proved peaceful.
Most of Blanc was plains, so the travel was easy, and they saw no more of the Tusk Tribe.
The journey did have two hardships, however.
“The first daughter born of the marriage between the First Holy Emperor and the Saintess was the Second Saintess. The Second Saintess is the founder of the Papal See…”
First, Fernoka talked so much you wanted to smash his teeth in.
As for the second difficulty…
“Shut up and open the door,” Sevha snapped. “Though it’s probably empty again…”
They had not found a single inhabited village.
Sevha stood in the center of the village and glanced around.
The thirty-odd houses were deserted, just like every other village they had passed.
“It’s the same as the others, no pots or anything. Looks like they only took what they could carry and fled,” Legra said, emerging from one of the houses.
Teresse, who had been peering through the window of another house, replied, “It seems they fled the Tusk Tribe.”
Just then, Fernoka came out of a house and handed Sevha some clothes.
“Rasseu is just half a day’s walk from here. If you don’t want to be identified as a Hunter of Anse, you should change.”
Sevha went inside a house to change, his thoughts churning.
We’ve passed through six villages in three days and haven’t seen a single person.
Does that mean so many of the Tusk Tribe have invaded that they had to evacuate people on this scale?
But then why haven’t we seen any sign of this massive force?
Sevha concluded that something was very wrong in Blanc Territory and stepped out of the house.
Teresse and Fernoka were talking.
“You said your name was Te…na? Have we met somewhere before?”
“Don’t Lusha’s priests take a vow of celibacy now, ever since the Fourth Saintess ran off with a man?”
“That is not the sense in which I was asking…”
Fernoka continued to study Teresse, then muttered to himself, “I see. It was not you I met, but someone who looked just like you.”
Whether she heard him or not, Teresse spun around.
She said, “If you’re done changing, let’s go. Fernoka, you lead.”
The party left the village and started walking again.
They walked for half a day, past plains, rivers, and lakes.
As dusk fell, they arrived at their destination.
“I really… have left Anse,” Sevha murmured.
A great lake was stained the color of sunset.
The castle walls beside it, and the castle within, were reflected on the lake’s surface like a watercolor painting.
“Rasseu is a castle famed for its beauty,” Fernoka remarked. “Though it seems not so much these days.”
He pointed toward the castle gate.
In front of it stood a mass of shabby tents. And in the thousands were people whose appearances were even more wretched than their dwellings.
“So this is where all the villagers ended up.”
As Teresse surmised their identity, Sevha gestured with his head for them to proceed.
As they entered the shantytown near the gate, the refugees held out their hands toward Sevha’s party.
They were begging, but seemed to lack even the energy for it, merely holding out their hands in silence.
“Lord Sevha…”
“Ignore them, Legra.”
Sevha’s party ignored the refugees and approached the open castle gate, where they were stopped by soldiers.
“Rasseu can accept no more refugees. We won’t tell you to return to your villages, so find a place for yourselves outside the walls.”
As the soldier treated them like refugees, Sevha and Teresse glanced at Fernoka.
He took a step forward. “Would you inform Bishop Piétang that Fernoka has arrived?”
At the name Piétang, the soldiers exchanged looks before one of them nodded and left.
A short while later, he returned and said, “You may enter. But these people…”
“They are adventurers I have hired as my escorts.”
The soldiers eyed Sevha, Teresse, and Legra suspiciously before nodding.
“Let us go,” Fernoka said.
Sevha’s party passed the soldiers and went through the gate.
Inside the walls, red brick houses with tiled roofs lined a main thoroughfare.
I guess the houses in Anse were little more than piles of rock.
Sevha’s admiration was brief. His eyes fell on the people sitting slumped along the road.
Their attire was better than that of the refugees outside, but the air of desolation about them was no different.
Fernoka said, “I will be heading to the temple of the Church of Lusha. So…”
“Uh-huh, bye. Let’s never meet again.” Sevha bid a merciless farewell.
Fernoka smiled and replied, “Oh yes, let us do meet again.”
After the priest left, Teresse spoke to Sevha.
“It’s too strange. If enough of the Tusk Tribe had swarmed the area to bring a marquisate to its knees, we should have run into at least one of them on our way here.”
“True.”
“There’s something wrong in Blanc. If the rumors are right, the problem is…”
Teresse trailed off, but Sevha paid it no mind.
He figured, “Better to find out for ourselves than make pointless guesses.”
Sevha scanned his surroundings and spotted an inn sign.
He led the way inside. The door opened into a two-story hall.
The first floor was a tavern, where people sat at tables, drinking.
They drank with the gloom of prisoners awaiting execution.
Sevha passed them and approached a middle-aged man who seemed to be the innkeeper.
He asked, “Any rooms?”
“A room? Didn’t you see the situation outside? You think there’d be any rooms left in a situation like—!”
Just then, a young woman came down from the second floor and yelled, “Dad! The man from Tolje Village skipped out on his bill!”
The innkeeper sighed heavily and turned back to Sevha. “Well, there you have it! A room! It’s only got one bed, but I trust that won’t be a problem?”
“I don’t know the exact situation, but this doesn’t seem like a time to be picky. One bed will have to do.”
The innkeeper’s eyes widened slightly at that. “You’re not from Blanc, are you?”
“…An adventurer.”
“Then I suppose you won’t be skipping out in the middle of the night because you’re broke.”
As the innkeeper grumbled, Teresse joined the conversation.
“Things seem bad in the territory these days?” she asked.
“Bad? It’s beyond bad! It’s the worst! The Orcs are sweeping through the land, and—!”
As the innkeeper’s voice rose, an even louder shout came from behind him.
“What in the hell is the Marquis of Blanc doing! Why would he leave the territory to that bastard!”
The shout came from a man drinking at a table.
The man drinking with him tried to calm him down, but he didn’t stop.
“Shut your piehole! You think I can be calm? The knights are holed up in the castle, and the whelps that bastard brought with him are hunting us, not the Orcs!”
Just then, the inn door burst open.
A group of armed men strode in.
Leading them was a man in his thirties.
With his hair and beard a tangled mess, the man glanced around the inn with a sneer.
“I thought I heard someone bad-mouthing us in here…?”