After the pies were finished Francis was waved into the back. A short orcish woman wearing a red bandana was painstakingly rolling out pie crusts.

“I'm Big Mary,” she said, “Apparently we weren't as well hidden as we thought. Who knew that Brexis had a capable anti-espionage unit?”

Francis ignored the irony of Big Mary’s name. For all he knew it was a deliberate choice to prevent her from being identified. “Look, I’m Francis and I have next to zero patience for all this spook shit. Half the time it turns out that the person running the show is trying to line their own pockets.”

Big Mary looked him up and down. “Not just a pretty face then, apparently you have some brains to go with the looks.” She flashed him a smile, showing sharpened lower and upper canines. “I like you, Francis. Tell me, what do you know about orcs?”

“Basically nothing,” Francis admitted, “I know that a bunch of your people do mercenary work and orcs used to be big into sea trade. Other than that, not much.”

She put the finished pie crusts into the chiller and started cleaning up. “Well, at least you didn't say that we eat our young,” Mary said with a sigh, “Orcish society is complicated. Those who don't fit in tend to wander and take up mercenary work. Those who do almost never leave.

“The Orcish Isles are home to a bunch of different groups that all hate each other, and an aging aristocracy that is so inbred that they're starting to grow extra teeth. We still engage in a fair bit of sea trade, but it's not as profitable as it once was. Now the nobles are calling for war, and they can be quite loud when they want to be.”

Francis shrugged. “It sounds like someone is looking to shake things up by raiding their neighbors.”

“Apparently,” Mary said as she removed her flour covered apron, revealing a simple floral print dress underneath, “The crown is running out of money and some foreign interests have decided to finance the campaign. Make of that what you will, but Grumble has apparently made some powerful enemies.”

“Fascinating, so it's a proxy war. And what do our furry friends get from screwing over Grumble?” Francis asked.

“I never said that it was the Western Wilds,” Mary pointed out.

The Marine shook his head. “Ok, what would they get, if they were the ones backing this?”

“Hypothetically speaking? Time and breathing room. As populations increase, the humans have been pushing deeper into their territory. The awakened can't keep retreating, so who could blame them for finding alternative ways to fight back?”

The orcish woman sighed again. “The fact of the matter is that humans are a dying breed. Unless they expand aggressively and throw out anyone who looks different than them, they're screwed in the long term.”

“How do you figure that?” Francis asked, “I may be biased, but humanity seems to be doing just fine.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Mary fixed him with a piercing look. “Yeah, it seems that way in Grumble. But elsewhere, they're few and far between. That's the problem with Heritage. If a human fucks a faun their offspring isn't human, it's a faun. My mother was an orc, but my father was a human. Give it a few generations and you can see where that leads.”

Something about Mary’s words didn't sit right with Francis. “If that's the case, why do humans exist at all? Why haven't they gone extinct?”

Mary smiled, showing her distinctive orcish double fangs. “That's what we call the Xanthian Paradox. It's a bit of a mystery, to be honest. Some think it's because humans were some of the first people to settle this world. Others think it's something to do with System bias. But nobody knows for sure.”

Francis took a few seconds to process her words. “You've given me a lot to think about. I'll be in touch.”

“Stop by anytime,” Mary said, “You know how to reach me.”

***

System was waiting for Francis when he returned to the palace. The Marine gave him an annoyed look. “I don't really have time for this.”

“My situation may not be an immediate threat, but I don't want you to forget about it,” System said, “With every day I'm gone we're one step closer to disaster.”

Francis was not happy. Hearing that his people were basically doomed could have that effect on a person. “Ok, then maybe you can pull your weight for once. What the fuck is the ‘Xanthian Paradox’?”

There was a brief pause before System answered. “Oh, I get why you're in such a bad mood now. The Xanthian Paradox points out that between the survival of the fittest, and their tendency to hybridize, pure humans should not exist. It's a popular question among the non-humans.”

“But are we really dying out? Are we going extinct?” Francis pressed.

“Yes, and no. There are certain factors at work that I can't go into detail about, but human dominance in this region is in decline.” System did some mental math, “It should end in the next two hundred years, give or take. But I can't imagine that humans will go extinct. The boss is much too sentimental for that.”

Francis once again found himself out of his depth. “Hold that though,” the Marine said as he turned around and headed back towards the city. He needed to go on another walk.

***

Wilbur waved as Francis approached his cart. “What can I get for you?” the semi-retired death god asked.

“Tell me about the 'Xanthian Paradox',” Francis said.

“Ah, that. It's complete bullshit,” Wilbur said before he went back to grilling sausages.

“Really? Because System seems to think it's real.” Francis pointed out.

The old man laughed. “That's because System, for all his intelligence and processing power, is an idiot. He doesn't know what he doesn't know, and is blissfully unaware of his own blindspots.”

“Really?” Francis asked.

“Yeah, really. It's not a paradox. Humans were part of the first wave, most of the gods are former humans, and so are the vast majority of the champions. Mankind is here because someone brought them here. Unless something drastic changes, humans aren't going anywhere.”

The old man grinned. “Besides, this is magical bullshit land. Vahnis and the beings who control it play by their own rules. So, don't worry about it. Humanity is doing just fine.”

The Marine ran Wilbur's words through his bullshit filter and found that they made sense. “Thanks,” he said, “I feel a lot better now.”

“Anytime,” Wilbur replied.