I eventually managed to ride toward the inn, though not without some difficulty. Ideally, I’d have laid flat on Lynx’s back, but that wouldn’t exactly give off a very ladylike impression. Since my tail made it impossible for Ju to sit behind me, she sat in front, with me leaning heavily on her slender back, my head resting on her shoulder and arms wrapped around her. It wasn’t the most ladylike position either, but it was a little bit better, comfortable and it gave her the possibility to cast those soothing spells on me.
I sighed. It wasn’t enough to have to battle the pain, the nausea, and all the other problems caused by the transformation spell—I also had to maintain appearances and try to look like a proper lady! However, I feared that an impartial observer would have noted my efforts as strained and ultimately insufficient.
Deep orange and purple colored the horizon as one sun dipped below the treetops while the other still hovered just above the horizon, casting long shadows across the forest path.
It was getting late, but I wasn’t in any rush. I hoped the evening shadows would help mask the imperfections in my appearance.
We had spent a lot of time to get me into a dress as my paws were practically useless for any manual tasks and I was worse than having two left hands. Then the real work had started in layering illusions to make me resemble my original self.
I was struggling to keep a whole array of illusions in place, constantly worried I might forget to renew one. My face required the most effort to appear natural, then there was my tail, which I fought to keep invisible, and my paws that had to look like normal hands. My hairy back was thankfully hidden by the dress, along with my legs. Finally, when I managed to make my horns invisible, I sighed in relief. The image in the mirror looked like a normal girl, but the mental strain of maintaining each illusion was exhausting. At least I was improving—no longer needing to constantly recast the spells as I used to. Plus, the finer details were getting easier to manage. Perhaps these bigger horns were good for something after all.
On the road, we encountered a few peasant's carts, but they quickly pulled aside, hurrying to clear the way as soon as they spotted me. Heads bowed respectfully as we passed.
Ju's delicate elven features were calm, her slender frame upright and graceful, a cascade of golden hair catching the light from the setting sun.
"Good evening!" I called out in my raspy voice, speaking in Vynaian. They bowed even lower, clearly surprised that I had acknowledged them. A few even had the presence of mind to mumble a response.
"Blessed be your hearts!" they responded.
Oh right, with all the stress, it slipped my mind, 'good evening' wasn’t the usual greeting here. Besides, Ju had told me there was no need to greet them, but I just couldn’t bring myself to ignore them entirely. At least she responded correctly, saving the moment.
When we reached the bridge, there were no orcs in sight, just a young boy. I assumed with the orcs gone, the passage would be free. But to my surprise, after greeting us, he quickly added,
“Twenty copper for the passage, mylady!” while pointing to a wooden table where the toll was clearly posted for those who could read.
I chuckled.
"And you’re going to enforce that all by yourself? What if I just walk through?"
He shrugged with an easy confidence.
"Some have tried that, but they ended up coming back to pay in silver." He flashed a quick smile.
I raised an eyebrow. "And what do you do with all that money?" I asked as Ju fumbled through her pouch for some small change.
He glanced up at me, then said matter-of-factly, "I give it to Sir Hordius, of course."
"You never pocket a coin?" I teased, watching his expression.
His horrified look was enough to make me shrug.
"Really though, where are the orcs?" I asked.
"They only stick around when they’re bored and there’s nothing else to do," he said with a grin. "But I heard there’s a dragon in the area, so they’re probably off hunting it." He sounded absolutely sure of himself.
Sid chose that exact moment to let out a bellowing roar. The kid's eyes shot upward, and his face turned white as a sheet.
"Here you go," Ju said, calmly placing the twenty copper into his trembling hand. He barely noticed, his fingers shaking as he clutched the coins.
"I'm hungry, mama!" Sid called through telepathy from above. "Can I go hunt something?"
The roar was probably meant to get my attention, not scare the wits out of the poor kid.
I glanced up. "Can you even hunt?"
The kid, now ghostly pale, stammered, "Th-th-there really is a dragon!" He dropped a few coins as another deafening roar echoed from above, and in a flash, he bolted under the bridge.
"Of course I can!" Sid boomed another proud roar from the skies to underline his words.
I sighed. So much for keeping me safe, but I had Lynx and Ju with me, and if it came to it, I could always shift back into a dragon. I shrugged—there should be no issue with letting him go on a hunt.
"Alright, go hunt some deer or whatever's easy prey," I said. "Just be careful, and don’t get hurt."
I wasn’t really worried—he was a dragon, after all. He practically lit up, replying instantly.
“Sure, mama! Thank you, mama! I love you, mama!”
His sudden declaration of love made my heart flutter. No, I reminded myself, he’s just a kid who doesn’t fully grasp the weight of his words. He’s happy I gave him permission to hunt, nothing more.
“Let me know if anything happens or if you’re in danger, okay? And don’t wander too far—I need you to stay close enough to contact me at any moment.”
“Yes, mama!” he chirped back, full of excitement.
Another booming blare echoed from above as Sid veered toward the forest.
“What’s happening?” Ju asked, craning her neck to spot him.
“Sid’s hungry—he’s off to chase some deer,” I explained as we resumed our journey.
After winding through a few kilometers of forested road, a breathtaking panorama unfolded before us. To the left, a towering inn built of logs dominated the landscape near a tranquil lake. A river meandered lazily between rolling hills, and to the right, a village spread along its banks, nestled beneath a picturesque castle with several stone towers.
In the distance, a few more villages and hamlets dotted the scene, with small herds of animals and people moving slowly toward their homes. It was a bucolic, almost idyllic sight—like something straight out of a medieval postcard.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Ju said, her eyes lingering on the serene view.
I nodded. "Indeed."
Ju tilted her head, curiosity in her eyes. “What’s the name of your domain? You haven’t told us yet.”
I chuckled. “Orcmound. So now I’m Lores of Orcmound.” I shrugged, trying to downplay it. “I didn’t want you all making fun of me.”
She burst out laughing, the sound ringing through the peaceful scene. “It couldn’t be more fitting! Is that why you didn’t invite us to your nomination?”
“No, not really. They actually took me by surprise with it. I thought I was just going to the judge’s office to give a lecture about not spilling blood within the palace grounds, but... they went ahead and did the nomination ceremony right then and there.”
In the distance, tall trees with darkened leaves created a thick canopy, their branches stretching upward. The last slivers of sunlight filtered through, casting a warm, golden glow over the meadow. I pointed towards it.
“You know something? I’ll set my table up right there. We’ll let Drackar come to me here in the field. It’s better than inside the inn.”
Ju raised a brow but didn’t comment.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
This way, I could sit and wait for him without awkwardly navigating through the inn. Plus, if there was any trap set for me in there, this would make sure it didn't work. Ju nodded, finally understanding my reasoning.
“All right! If you say so!”
She helped me down from Lynx’s back, and I pulled out a table and two chairs from my inventory. Ju helped me position them, and as the sky darkened, I retrieved two Chinese lanterns—an impulse buy from ages ago that had only ever decorated my room.
“Can you light the lanterns?” I asked, handing them to her.
As Ju sparked them to life, I set out a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. Meanwhile, Lynx settled down behind us, like a giant cat lounging on its side, his eyes flicking between us and the surroundings with quiet interest.
“Would you be so kind as to pour the wine? I can’t manage it properly with these claws,” I asked, gesturing to my hands.
“No, you silly,” Ju replied with a teasing smile. “My place is to stand behind your chair, like the brave servant I am. That chair is for Drackar, not me!” She glanced toward the distance. “And I think he’s already coming.”
Two black-clad riders approached at a swift trot, their dark figures cutting through the twilight. At the same time, I noticed Alice stepping out of the inn. She waved at me, and I returned the gesture.
“He’s fast!” I remarked, impressed. Then I turned to Ju, who was shaking the bottle of wine far too vigorously. “Careful with that bottle, it’s sparkling wine!”
“How does this cork come out?” she asked, puzzled.
“Have you never opened sparkling wine before?” I protested. “You just push it with your thumb, and it’ll pop.”
As the riders drew closer, their horses stopped abruptly about ten meters from us. In perfect sync, the orcs dismounted with a smooth, practiced jump—almost like part of a choreographed routine. At that exact moment, the cork shot out of the bottle with a loud pop. Ju, entirely unaware of the timing, had inadvertently 'fired' it in their direction as she struggled with the bubbling wine.
The giant orc chuckled as the cork whizzed past him. He stepped forward while his companion stayed back, holding the reins of the horses.
I breathed a sigh of relief that the cork hadn’t immediately set us on a collision course toward war.
“Blessed be your heart,” he greeted, his deep voice reverberating as he spoke. He then added with a question in his eyes, “Lady Lores, I presume?”
“Blessed be your heart,” I replied, finally getting the formalities right. “Captain Drackar? My name is Lores of Orcmound. Will you join me for a drink?” I gestured toward the chair. Ju had made it clear beforehand not to introduce her—servants weren’t introduced in this kind of setting, she’d reminded me.
He chuckled as he stepped closer. Wororcs were known to be bigger than the average orc, but this one? He was immense, even by their standards. He glanced at the chair I offered and raised a brow.
“I wouldn’t want to break your furniture. Are you sure it’s sturdy enough for me?” he asked, eyeing it. Before I could respond, he gracefully lowered himself to the ground beside the table, his bulk sinking into the earth. Even seated on the ground, he was almost eye-level with me in my chair.
Drackar removed his helm and then his gauntlets, placing them neatly beside him. His dark red eyes glimmered in the soft glow of the lanterns as he brushed back his gray hair. His protruding lower canines gave him a fierce, bulldog-like appearance, but the way he held himself suggested control, not brutality.
He spoke Vynaian fluently—probably learned from a magic scroll. His attire was simple yet imposing: a black breastplate over what looked like a t-shirt, leaving his thick, muscled arms bare. My gaze couldn’t help but linger on his impossibly wide biceps, rippling with every subtle movement.
“Wine, Sir?” Ju asked with a respectful bow, stepping beside him. “It’s a special import from faraway lands,” she added smoothly.
With a casual gesture, he allowed her to fill his glass, though his eyes remained fixed on me. His muscles shifted under his skin like coiled snakes as he moved, each motion deliberate and controlled.
“Lores of Orcmound,” he repeated, a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “So, young lady, are you here to chase me away from this land?” His words cut straight to the point, his attention briefly shifting to Ju as she gracefully poured the wine.
I huffed softly, caught off guard by his bluntness. Clearly, this wasn’t a man who believed in dancing around a topic.
“I must say the thought did cross my mind,” I replied with a casual shrug. “According to some kingdom's paper, I’m the rightful owner of this land.”
“This is new,” he mused, his eyes narrowing slightly. “May I ask you something, Lady? Do you believe that might makes right? Is that your view?”
“I’m not sure I follow,” I admitted, tilting my head. “But I have a feeling that being right without the power to enforce it is a loser’s position. What are you trying to say?”
He leaned forward slightly, his expression serious. “We are standing on ancestral orc land. We wororcs have lived here since before the time of the elven empire. Our people are mostly nomadic, but we have a few permanent cities. There were no humans here then. We fought alongside humans against the elves, and we won. Now, you come here, claim this land as yours by some human decree, and tell us we should leave. Is that what you think is right?”
His words hung in the air, carrying the weight of history and battle.
I sighed, frustration bubbling up. I wasn’t interested in history or battles.
Why did everything have to be so complicated? All I wanted was a peaceful domain where I could relax and enjoy life until we found a way back to my world. Was that really too much to ask?
Luckily, before I could attempt to formulate a response, Drackar continued.
“I have a proposal that might suit us both,” he said, his tone measured, “and it will avoid any unnecessary conflict. As it stands, the domain generates forty gold per Kargath*, after all costs are accounted for—including the upkeep of my orcs. You can take this income for yourself and your house, while we remain to defend the domain.”
His offer hung in the air, practical and direct. It certainly wasn’t what I had expected, but it was hard to argue with the simplicity of it.
I blinked, trying to fully grasp what he was proposing. Lola had a saying: when a proposal is too good to be true it is very probably because it is too good to be true.
“So, you're saying you'll continue to administer the domain, and I should be content with just a portion of the revenue?” I asked, skeptical. Forty gold sounded like a decent sum, but I had a feeling the domain was generating far more than that.
Drackar huffed and shook his head. “No, you misunderstand. We don’t administer the domain; the xsoha handle that. Let me put it another way: once you take over, you'll need to hire troops to protect it unless you plan on defending it yourself. That will cost you money. I currently pay fifty-seven gold per Kargath to my five companies and officers, including myself. Any other solution you consider won’t come much cheaper.”
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes steady. “We’ll continue to do all the security work—guard the domain, chase off thieves and marauders, man the walls and forts—just as any hired company would. All under your command, through me. After all expenses, what remains is forty gold. How you run the domain, how you manage the finances beyond that, is entirely up to you. I think that’s a fair proposal.”
His words made sense, and I could see the logic in his offer. It was a clean deal, but still, I felt like there was more to consider.
“What about the taxes?” I asked. “Once we deduct the imperial taxes, will there be anything left? I’m not about to dodge paying them.”
He shrugged casually. “The taxes are part of the costs—we’ve been paying them. That won’t change.”
I frowned, shaking my head. “The governor’s land records show no taxes paid!”
He paused, then sighed, taking a deep breath before bursting into laughter. “Ah, those xsoha… I told them to pay, but it seems they’ve been pocketing the tax money all along. Can you believe that?”
The idea of the xsoha skimming tax money right from under the orcs' noses was almost hilarious, though it made sense—Drackar had no real way to check on them. Still, you had to admire their boldness.
“But why would you pay the kingdom’s taxes?” I asked, curious. “Aren’t you just funding your enemies?”
He shrugged, as if it were the simplest thing. “I didn’t want to spark a war over a handful of coins. And anyway, it's human-earned money, so it’s not entirely unjust to send it to a human king.”
Something felt off. Wasn’t Kargath, the God of War, their god? Shouldn’t they be more... combative?
“Afraid of war?” I asked, almost teasingly.
He stared at me as if I'd just uttered some great sacrilege. “No.”
Then his voice softened, taking on a tone both wise and weary. “As Kargath moves through its phases, so does life. There's a time for war, and there’s a time for peace. War must be fought for a just cause, and its purpose is to lead to peace. Peace, however, breeds weak leaders, which inevitably brings war again. War strengthens us, but peace gives us time to raise our children.”
His face darkened as if remembering something bitter. “I’ve seen many wars. If war is to come, then it will, as Kargath wills it. They sent weak troops before, and we crushed them. If they send more, we’ll kill more. But then, they’ll strike at our villages, at our families, when we’re not there. And we’ll retaliate, trying to rid the world of them. We will either die or win, but it’ll only stir up more hatred, more vengeance, more bloodshed.”
He sighed deeply. “The cold years are coming. I want a place where my orcs can live, survive, and grow with their families through the long winter ahead. That’s why I seek peace now.”
I took a deep breath. “And if I refuse?” I asked, curious how far he'd go.
He didn’t hesitate. “Then we’ll discuss it and decide. I’d likely choose to leave, but that’s up to the assembly. I don’t want to fight dragons, but if they vote to stand our ground, we won’t run.”
Straightforward, no threats, just facts.
“I need time to think about your offer,” I said, weighing my options.
“Of course,” he agreed, taking a sip from his glass. A second sip, and it was empty. He set it down gently. “Nice wine. It sparkles on the tongue.”
His deep red eyes flicked back to mine. “When can I expect your decision, Lady Lores?”
“Tomorrow evening. We can meet here again.”
“Perfect, my lady, then, if you’ll excuse me.” he answered with a nod.
Drackar leapt to his feet with surprising ease, just as a heavy thud hit the ground a dozen meters away. His horses neighed in alarm, the other orc struggling to keep them steady as more thuds followed. Three mangled cows lay on the grass, still smoking from a crisp flame that had clearly scorched them from above.
Drackar, if surprised at all, masked it well. He turned to me with a raised brow, clearly waiting for some kind of explanation.
Waves of air hit us, like the downdraft of a helicopter, as giant clawed legs swung overhead, adjusting their landing. I sighed, feeling a headache building just as Sid’s booming, cheery voice filled the valley, followed by a dark shadow landing atop one of the cows.
“Mama! I brought food for you and Lynx too! I’m sooo hungry!”
I pressed a hand to my face in sheer desperation, the word "mama" echoing in my ears again. No point in correcting him at this stage.
“You can have my part too,” I replied, hoping against hope the orcs didn’t speak English.
“Really? You’re so cool!” Sid cheered, and Lynx abandoned his post at my side to inspect his share of the carnage.
I rolled my eyes. Where did he even pick up that phrase?
* Kargath is a moon, but also the time period of thirty-two days, during which the moon Kargath completes its phases.