Frozen Earth #2

 

There is no hospital in the slave village, but there is a bar.

Even if the end of the world comes, I think the bars in each region will remain open until the very end.

I’ll have a drink with the world’s destruction as a snack. That’s the kind of people drinkers are.

Jonathan and I opened the door to the Oak Tavern and went inside.

“Ugh.”

My nose twitched involuntarily. The strong smell of alcohol hit me directly.

“I told you, it’s not a place suitable for a young girl like you.”

Jonathan chuckled. He seemed to find my flustered appearance quite amusing.

“Do you know how to drink?”

“little.”

“Whatever you’ve been drinking, forget it here. You can’t get regular alcohol at the town’s bars anyway. We drink this.”

Jonathan waved the bottle in front of my eyes.

There was no label indicating what kind of alcohol it was, and it was housed in a dirty glass bottle and was quite poorly made.

It feels like moonshine secretly brewed in a basement during the Prohibition era.

In the tavern of the slave village, there seemed to be no other choice but this drink.

The bar owner just put a bottle of this liquor on the table and left without us even ordering it.

The side dish is just a few grains of salt.

“I warn you. Don’t drink more than one sip. You’ll die.”

“Tch- Scaring.”

“Do I seem to be scaring you? Then pay first.”

“why?”

“If you die before I pay, it’ll be a problem for me too. I have to pay for the drinks and my wages in advance.”

Jonathan spoke with a serious expression. He was quick to count the money.

I know their drinks.

Something that is alcohol, but cannot be called alcohol. Beyond sobriety, it is poison itself.

This liquor is actually industrial alcohol that was smuggled and refined during mining operations.

As Jonathan said, drinking this kind of stuff, which isn’t even proper alcohol, would definitely harm your health. But the orcs couldn’t even drink it because they didn’t have it.

‘Let’s try it out.’

It’s a good opportunity to test my abilities.

I poured the liquor into the glass, overflowing. Jonathan frowned.

“You idiot! That’s not how you drink alcohol. I told you, it’s not normal alcohol. Just take your time and sip it one at a time—”

“You drink this.”

“what?”

I pushed the glass in front of Jonathan and took the bottle in my hand.

“The first drink is a shot.”

“for a moment-“

Jonathan’s eyes widened. I tipped the bottle before he could stop me.

Gulp, gulp—

‘Ugh.’

Certainly, this wasn’t alcohol.

Transparent poison.

My throat burned. A flame flowed down my esophagus.

It felt like if I exhaled right now, I could fire my breath.

“You’re crazy. Do humans commit suicide like that?”

Jonathan’s words lingered in my ears, then dissipated. I could hear the sounds, but I couldn’t understand their meaning.

You can’t see anything in front of your eyes, and your five senses disappear.

Soon, my body felt comfortable.

“Characteristic: Resurrected with the effect of immortality.”

“I was instantly resurrected by the power of the holy reliquary.”

“As a result of immortality, some of your abilities will be permanently lost.”

“However, since it has already reached the minimum, the ability value will not decrease any further.”

It’s been a while since I’ve seen a system message.

No, he’s really dead.

“Oh, shit, that drink is strong.”

I shook my head and exhaled.

He died of acute alcohol poisoning, but the aftereffects did not remain.

My head feels clear and my body feels light, as if I could fly, without any hangover.

All debuffs applied before death are nullified upon resurrection. This is Lich’s special ability.

“No, you- you just fell on the table- you looked dead-”

Jonathan stuttered. He rubbed his eyes with his dirty hands, unable to believe what he was seeing.

“Your alcohol tastes bad. I’m going to stop drinking it.”

“⋯.”

“But what are you doing? You should empty your own glass.”

I pointed to the glass in front of Jonathan.

Jonathan shrugged his shoulders, as if he were shocked.

An extraordinary feat that no mere snowfield orc could emulate. I could feel a distinct change in the way people looked at me.

“You have achieved a feat. You have acquired a new special ability.

—Guest: When your health falls below 5%, all abilities increase by 5%.

It was worth putting on a crazy suicide show.

A trait you can receive when you overcome an absurd and ridiculous death: “Guest Spirit.”

This trait is quite tricky to acquire on purpose. It’s not uncommon for attempts to acquire the guest spirit to end up not only failing to overcome it, but also losing it.

It’s a kind of Darwinian award.

“⋯You, you’re not just an ordinary girl.”

Jonathan barely opened his mouth.

“Well, it was strange that we managed to break through Camula’s magic and reach here. What is it? What is your purpose here?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I told you. You’re just lost.”

“⋯I see. Okay, I understand.”

Jonathan took a sip of his liquor. The orc remained silent for a while, lost in thought.

***

After leaving the tavern, we next stopped by the orc arena.

The orcs living in the slave village have two pleasures.

One is a stomach-churning solo. The other is a duel.

It seemed that even the belligerence flowing in the blood of the Snowfield Orcs had not completely disappeared.

“There’s a duel happening today. Would you like to watch?”

“Well, that’s what it is.”

“You can even bet on whoever you like. Choose carefully. Here are the guys fighting today: One-Eyed Jack, the Wrinkly Waldo…”

Jonathan read the names on the wall one by one.

Gauss, the “Polar Bear,” caught my eye, on a four-game winning streak. He likely earned his nickname because of his white hair.

“Gauss will be able to rest in peace if he wins today.”

“Rest?”

“That means you can die completely. Even after death, you’re not enslaved forever, but rather gain the right to rot away in the ground. I’m truly envious.”

Jonathan said in a desperate voice.

The orcs’ goal is to die comfortably. While gladiators in other arenas win and win again, earning large sums of money or freedom, orc champions fight to the death.

“Then the defeated orcs-”

“What good will it do to you? Of course, you will become an eternal slave on the spot.”

As soon as Jonathan finished speaking, a group of orcs passed behind us.

The atmosphere was different from that of the living snowfield orcs.

Eyes that are wide open but empty and unfocused. An indifference that doesn’t even care if a fly lands on your cheek.

He is an ‘eternal slave’ who must serve Kamula for an infinite amount of time, neither alive nor dead.

It was also the future of most snowfield orcs, except for a few lucky ones.

Jonathan tried his best to avoid eye contact with the undead orcs.

“Let’s go in.”

We entered the arena, which looked like it might collapse at any moment.

The interior was desolate. It was just a few wooden pillars, roughly erected, and a tent draped over them to keep out the wind and rain.

It looked like a bomb-damaged building, reduced to rubble. Yet, it was strangely suited as a battleground for the orcs of this slave village.

“Look over there, it’s a human.”

“Now even girls are coming to see the sights. Are they on a picnic or something? Tsk.”

I felt the gaze of the orcs inside. They looked at me and muttered a few words.

“What are you looking at!”

Jonathan clenched his jaw, his eyes straining. The orcs turned their gaze back to the center of the arena.

In the middle of the arena stood two orcs. The old one with white hair seemed to be Gauss.

“Gauss the Polar Bear. He’s a master of the club. As everyone knows, one more win and Gauss will be on his way to eternal rest.”

The host orc raised Gauss’s hand. Gauss was one of the more physically fit orcs.

“Cheer for me! I want to win! My brothers, you’ve put your trust in me, and I won’t disappoint you!”

Gauss shouted, the veins in his neck standing up.

“Now, now, our opponent is Galon, the deer hunter. He’s a natural hunter who’s hunted over a hundred stags.”

In the midst of the heated atmosphere of the arena, the host, Orc, continued speaking.

But the deer hunter didn’t come out onto the stage. Gauss tilted his head in puzzlement.

“⋯That was the situation, but I have some sudden news to share with you brothers. Those of you who know will have already heard. Galon met with an accident in the mines yesterday. He was hit in the head by a bloodstone fragment and is currently unconscious. Please pray for Galon.”

The host, Oak, closed his eyes and placed his fist on his chest.

Gauss and the other orc spectators followed suit.

“So, Gauss’s opponent today has changed to another orc. It seems that pot-bellied Wapa will be entering the arena himself for the first time in a long time. Alright, brothers who bet on Gallon can place their bets again. I’ll say it again. Today’s duel will be between Gauss and Wapa, and Wapa and Gauss.”

The orcs murmured. Jonathan whispered in my ear.

“Gauss is finished today.”

“why?”

When I asked back, Jonathan narrowed his eyes.

“No matter how well Gauss fights, he can’t beat Wafa. Wafa is the strongest gladiator in the slave village. Wafa and Betdi. They’re brothers, and they’ve never lost.”

“If you had never lost, wouldn’t you have rested a long time ago?”

“Wapha and Betdi do not want rest.”

Jonathan shook his head.

“They are Kamula’s subordinates. They are the de facto rulers of the slave village, managing it on Kamula’s behalf. There is a separate orc elder, but no one listens to the old elder. This village is effectively in the hands of Wapha and Betdi.”

As soon as Jonathan finished speaking, an orc came staggering out from the entrance to the arena.

“The champion has arrived! Everyone, give him a round of applause. Wafa has arrived.”

As befitting his nickname, “pot belly,” Wapha’s belly was protruding like a mountain.

It’s not something to be laughed at. Among the other orcs, who were all emaciated and malnourished, he alone managed to eat enough and gain strength.

Moreover, if you look closely, you can see that although he has a protruding belly, his torso is thick and long, like a wrestler. His body was accustomed to fighting.

“Then I’ll bet five thousand gold on Wafa.”

“Good choice.”

Jonathan chuckled. He went to the arena’s management and chatted, placing bets.

After a while, Jonathan returned.

“I need to change seats.”

“why?”

“You bet the most money today. What do you call a VIP? They want you to watch from the best seat.”

Jonathan and I moved to the front of the arena, where we could see the fight best.

Even in a slave village, the value of a shiny gold coin does not change.

“Hoo, hoo-”

Indeed, it was a VIP seat. Even Gauss’s tense breathing could be heard vividly.

“Hehehe- Gauss, let’s have a fun fight.”

Wapha said with a sinister smile.