Chapter 10

…

On one hand, the game's leading (trash) waifu was dead, which was cause for celebration.

On the other hand, the big tiddy goth gf fandom was winning, which harkened an apocalypse in the future.

The big tiddy goth gf fandom being happy, ever, is just a prelude to a terrible event.

Goth and punk are in?

2008, the Great recession.

Goth revival arc?

Twitter exists while it happens, which ruins everything.

Goth takes off amongst actually talented artists and starts turning into a meme?

I die before seeing it take off in the relevant research sites.

What I'm saying is that I can never have nice things without something terrible happening to me.

And, as I fucking expected, that was totally the case.

…

Rolling hills.

Deep valleys.

Lush rivers.

Gorgeous mountains.

Dirt.

Insects.

Hundreds of smelly soldiers and animals around me, and hundreds more behind and beyond.

A few years being cooped up in the Citadel were too fucking short. Eight years of being a toddler scrambling for scraps in a warband were bad enough, but after experiencing the comforts of the Citadel, returning to the norm was horrible. Sure, before, it was miserable because I had memories of a comfortable life, but now it was miserable because I had those memories and a life of comfort.

The worst part, however, was the fact that I had to smile and wave the entire time.

"I hate this, so much." I said the words through gritted teeth, while Riegert rode beside me. We were at the center of the formation. We were on a fast march towards the other side of the continent, a trip that was at least two turns long, which was eight months. If I recalled correctly, it took at least three turns to siege down a Citadel. Five turns, after the 1st enemy faction revealed themselves. I wasn't getting back to the Citadel for another two. That's a total 10 turns before I get home, which is two and a half years. I'm going to be hitting puberty on the march. "Can I go back to the carriage?"

Actually going through timeskips sucked.

"Not yet, you're doing too well of a job, kid." Riegert laughed and glanced at me. I glowered at him, which made him laugh more. He knew that I didn't like the current situation in the slightest. "Do you trust us with dealing any villages in our way?"

"No."

"Hah!"

Not encountering any enemies during travel generally gave an event for the army, as long as they were with a Champion. It was different from the game, where a Champion had to stay in place and not use any actions, but that was just how "reality" operated. Things happened, whether you wanted them to or not.

I tried to leave things to these guys the first couple times.

Their default was the typical medieval army response to things they barely understood and was weaker than them.

Intimidate, steal, and take advantage of.

If they couldn't intimidate, then that method was changed to "kill."

Neutral things in this world are free resources, free XP, or an Artifact, after all.

Yeah, so, I had to do my best and try to spec into the Diplomacy tree, even though I couldn't just easily invest skill points by clicking on the screen. It felt a little scummy. Diplomacy is banned in competitive play, due to the chance of Heroes somehow being able to sweet talk Tier 3 Dragons into their army with enough luck, but this wasn't competitive.

But that's beside the point.

"You see, kid? Just think of this as a way to learn more and get better. Maybe, in a way that doesn't get allies to try and kill you." Riegert's smile told me that he somehow knew that I'd gone off the rails. Hell, the massive musclehead was practically reminding me that this was Khanrow's way of fucking me over, after I "failed" to ally with the Elves. There was no allying with the Elves, but they didn't know that. "Hoh? Look. Something's happened."

Riegert turned his gaze to the sky.

A scout in leather armor, cap, and goggles came flying in towards us. Each scout had three flags and were given an order to wave them upon approach, to make sure that they were one of us, along with a mirror to flash a set number of times. The guards and scouts coordinated every day to change up signals. It benefitted everyone. We could secure more information around us, while the scouts were able to get back to us without dying or landing on the outskirts to walk themselves in.

The whole process was something inherent to this world, which made sense in context, but wasn't even described in the lore.

A big, fat middle finger to what little sense of safety I had with my knowledge of this world.

I only knew what I knew.

"Strider, nice to see you again. What do you have for us?" Riegert greeted the rider with a wide smile and by his name. It had the young man almost forget I was present, as he took off his helmet, goggles, and mask, which was covered in all manner of dead bugs and more than a few leaves. "A village filled with lovely ladies, I hope?"

That got everything to chuckle, which made me very aware of how little power I had, but I laughed a little too.

Yep, I'm one of you guys.

Not someone who's here because he's a figurehead and carrying all the utility Artifacts.

Definitely someone important!

Not just an HM Slave, dammit!

I'm Jack, not an AATTVV!

"U-unfortunately not, sir. It seems to be a band of savages from the faraway south… but a large one! And, they seem to just be a vanguard!" Southern savages. Ah, the Orcs of this setting. They were pretty original here. Nomadic warrior tribes that range across the world. Still, a horde, but more a combination of Steppe and Arabian tribes than just flat-out numberless armies that are the enemies of the 'Good Guys ™'. "In their great numbers, this might be a migration for which they intend to claim land!"

Which meant only one thing…

"Hm, seems that the desert dwellers have found their own Citadel… and they're not the type to leave something like that unguarded." Riegert turned his gaze towards me. I wanted to be pedantic and remind him that the orcs in this setting had mountainous and desert terrain advantages, not just dessert advantage, but that was beside the point. "What do you think we should do, my Lord?"

I glowered at him for a moment, before anyone else could catch on, before speaking.

"Send a small group forward with a diplomat. No. Me and Riegert. We will pass through their caravan without causing harm to each other."

The scout's eyes widened.

"But they might be moving to claim—

"I understand, but we cannot defeat two foes with our army. Even now, we struggle to move quick enough to destroy the foes that we have." Quickly knocking out an opponent from the board was a great tactic. Great enough that you'd think to do it twice. However, there's a problem with that. Having two Citadels in the early game makes you a target, but it also makes you strong in the eyes of others. Having three means that you'll have everyone else working together to kill you. Five Citadels against three has only one solution. "If we are victorious and return, then we can see what we can do."

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Riegert nodded at my words, satisfied with my answer, and so did many of the others around us.

Even the scout was placated and bowed his head.

"Then, my Lord, I will begin preparations to meet with the savages for passage! I will be sure to get the finest for your personage!"

With that, the scout flew away, and so did his name from my head.

Generic Flying Cavalry unit man, I hope that you're taken out of this sick game soon, because you're too damn nice.

…

Muscle.

Biceps.

Quads.

Pecs.

Muscle in every direction no matter where I looked.

And, a voice like rolling thunder.

"Hm. It seems you're more than just cuttable meat, Boy King." The orcs of the setting lived and breathed intimidation. However, as many players on the forums pointed out, if you looked past the intimidation in their dialogue, they were perfectly reasonable people. Terrifying, absolute slabs of green skin and strapping muscle, but reasonable. "The food and wine you have brought is satisfactory. Speak and I will listen."

We met the delegate of the orcs between the lead of our force and the center of their own line. It was a pretty dangerous position on our end, because they could envelope us. However, that was only the case if their long train was composed of soldiers. No, that wasn't the case. The wagons hastening past us were their civilians. Their rush was more than apparent… and the fact that we were an army while they weren't were.

Still, it didn't hurt to show some respect and appeal to their sense of honor.

"Greetings, fellow travelers of this land. My name is Jack and I seek passage past your people. There is a place we need to be quite quickly." Atop a horse, I had to crane my neck up a bit to meet the beady eyes between slabs of muscle. The orcs either had manes of black hair or completely bald head. They wore furs and leathers. Idiots would think they're savages, but it was apparent that they had good hygiene and grooming standards. A developer or three are definitely in the closet. The gym closet. "My apologies, but you are not known to me."

That was a lie.

I knew the mountain right in front of me.

"I am known as Crusher, Boy King." Default orc hero. Heavy infantry. Solo-type. No frills. Nothing fancy. Upgrade and equip to smash armies and kill enemy heroes. Fantastic, balanced hero unit with his strengths and weaknesses. Fan favorite for brain-dead gameplay with orcs. "And, my people move as they wish. Why should they head yours? Because you have meat covered in metal at your back?"

Diplomacy with orcs is the best part of the game.

The only right answer is use "Intimidate" back.

"Yes. Enough to turn all of you into meat with ease." Ah, the best and most simple game mechanics can be the most fun. My words had a few of my guards caught off guard, but Riegert and Ilych just came forward on their horses with hands on their weapons. "It would slow us down, so we'd rather not."

The orc was quiet long enough for me to wonder if I received some brain damage and misremembered something I was completely sure about.

But, I let loose a sigh of relief, as a single chuckle left the orc's lips.

"Hah! This one understands how to speak! All of you… have the oncoming line halt!"

There was a roar of assent from Crusher's pack of orcs. Barely twenty in number, but they ran off and turned up dust like they were a howl cavalry charge. Well, they were. They didn't have cavalry units or flying units until the late game, where they could get their hands on animals big enough to mount. Their infantry just had a lesser version of the charge ability that every other race's cavalry derivative had.

Ergo, every single orc could be considered a mounted unit, and their actual mounted units trample cavalry and act as siege units.

Ah, I'm getting fond memories of literally rolling over enemy armies.

"I submit myself as hostage, until your host passes. That is the custom of your people correct, Boy King?" Crusher spoke and I nodded, while he sat down. The floor shook a bit, while he reached for the small offering of gifts we opened the conversion with. The bottle of wine in his hand was miniscule in comparison, like he was drinking from a sample bottle. The basket of food was opened with one hand and he readied to eat from the thing like a bowl. He ate everything with a few bites and three swallows max. "Hm. Good food, but you have none to trade on this warhost, do you?"

It was a chance for everyone else to speak, but the sudden change in direction of the situation must've caught everyone off guard.

So, I engaged with small-talk with the sitting mountain of muscle.

"So, you've found a Citadel. Planning on conquering the whole continent?"

"A stupid question. Of course. There is no greater path. Even meat knows this."

"True, true. Catch any Wyverns to use as aerial cavalry yet, or do plan on just dying on the battlefield?"

"Nonesuch foolishness exists within our clans. We are searching for nests already and our archers are mighty."

"Not many of them though."

"Still your tongue, whelp. We have enough."

"Do you really?"

"Hah!"

I made small talk with Crusher and the orc reciprocated.

Man, I wouldn't mind living in this world, if I was an orc. A life without disease, perfect physique, and a stomach that can eat practically anything. Not only that, but their women weren't lame cop-outs either. They were just as musclebound as their males. A lot of people would say the muscles and height are turn offs, but real men don't say no to climbing mountains.

Damn, puberty's getting close.

Sadly, Crusher soon stood up and it was apparent that a wide gap formed in the line of the orcs, and both sides were settling down to stop their march for the day as to not be separated.

"Boy King Jack, you will regret being merciful today. I will not forget the shame on my honor as to be declared not worth fighting." Crusher swore and raised his arm towards me as a fist. "We will meet in battle and to the victor shall go all the spoils."

The words rankled my guards again, but my response was already ready, and gave me a brief moment of fulfillment.

I always wanted to say the line myself.

"You may try, Conquerers of All Lands. You may try."

I pulled the reigns and turned my horse around, while the rest of my guard filtered away.

Crusher remained at our meeting place through the entire day, guarded by his people, until we completely passed through.

If only all the other races could be as cool and decent as the bloodthirsty raider faction, then I'd have a lot less qualms about dealing with this world.

But, no.

That wasn't the case.

I had to deal with shitty people like Elves.