Ch.1272All Sorts of Weirdos Out There

A rumor spread throughout Naraka.

Through echo-like shouts accidentally heard by scouts, through hints appearing in someone’s dreams, through casual talk between forces who joined hands to survive an unprecedented disaster.

The lord of the dead who hates the living, the insane Undead Duke, would finally spread death throughout the world.

The First Great Collapse was merely a harbinger, and an even greater disaster would befall you all.

Everyone heard the rumor.

“…So what are we supposed to do? Run away before we’re fucked?”

“No… I heard we need to fight? Something about gathering under the blue star…”

Not only the soldiers of lesser races who were no better than insects compared to powerful demigods,

“Blue star…? I don’t understand the meaning. Do you have any idea?”

“By star… wouldn’t it refer to that rumored star demigod? The one who mercilessly slaughtered all manner of powerful beings—great demons, multiple demigods, ancient dragons, and even Fallen Angels…”

“That human demigod who’s like an evil spirit…? Yes, indeed, there were stories circulating that she claimed to be the goddess of stars and dawn.”

But also the leaders of minor factions who had stubbornly persisted without being annexed or destroyed by other forces,

“So… this rumor must be a recruitment declaration spread by her side. Perhaps she lacked the troops to wage full-scale war against the Undead Duke?”

“Are you suggesting the rumor itself is false?”

“Well, that’s possible… but I think the claim that the Undead Duke is the culprit behind this disaster might be true. It’s too grandiose to be a lie for recruitment, and he’s actually the type to do such things.”

And even recluses who lived quietly in remote areas or within concealment barriers to avoid pointless conflicts and unnecessary dangers.

“Then… should we join the fight?”

The same question was posed to all of them.

Whether to join the fight, ignore it, or flee far away, satisfied with the immediate comfort that could collapse at any moment.

“We should, right? Where would we even run to?”

“We can’t endure that disaster a second time. It would be troublesome to reconnect with the surface world now. Isn’t this the optimal opportunity to stop it?”

“You want to fight? Then fight. It’ll show goodwill toward that monster demigod.”

And most of them gave the same answer.

Some because they had given up, some because they believed there would be no better opportunity, some because they thought humans were at least more reasonable counterparts than the undead.

Though their reasons differed, their conclusion was the same.

They must fight the Undead Duke. Responding to the summons disguised as a rumor, as members of the army led by the infamous “Monster of the Star.”

Days later, forces dispatched from all over Naraka gathered in one place.

Under a human-shaped monster whose robe fluttered like a slice of dawn sky, illuminating the world with a blue-white starlight.

Their number: over 40,000.

Though somewhat insufficient for forces gathered from the entire underground world, in reality, those 40,000 could be considered the maximum available.

Not many had survived after choosing neutrality amid the power struggles between factions, and those who could be considered meaningful combat forces were less than half of that.

Furthermore, excluding those who feared war with the undead army or turned away claiming the falling sky had nothing to do with them, gathering as many as 40,000 was already a miracle.

“…So many gathered. Where were all these troops hiding?”

For the one who summoned them, this force was sufficient to wage a proper battle.

======[ Haschal ]======

The plan to make Garmerlic a public enemy of Naraka—no, a common enemy—to gather additional forces had succeeded.

Not just succeeded, but achieved an unbelievable level of success.

Though it sounded plausible in theory, I had been worried about how many would actually gather for what was essentially an armchair strategy…

‘This looks like about 40,000. This isn’t just finding hidden forces—where did they all crawl out from?’

The scale of forces gathered below me was roughly 40,000, about five times more than I had expected.

[ How rude to say they “crawled out” about those who came running to lend a hand in your fight. Mind your words. ]

Even Hersella seemed somewhat surprised by the numbers. Though she was nitpicking my words as usual, her voice was slightly higher than normal.

‘Since when did you care about minding words?’

[ You’re the insensitive one. Even if they’re just expendable flies with no use beyond cannon fodder, if they’ve proven their warrior spirit, they deserve respect. ]

‘…Oh, really?’

Your tone seems more caustic to me. If those gathered below had heard you, they’d draw their swords and charge at us, demanding to know who you think you are.

This is exactly what they mean by not seeing the log in your own eye. It was typical of Hersella, who would sell everyone except her mother to mock me.

—-

Anyway, the scene spread out below was truly spectacular.

All kinds of races—not just those classified as humanoids on the surface, but truly unheard-of species—gathered together to form an army tens of thousands strong.

A true “multi-racial coalition” filled the gathering place.

Not mixed-blood half-elves like Hush, but pure dark elves with pitch-black skin and long ears.

Bipedal turtles and frogs. Giant talking snails. Moth-like beings the size of my palm. Black-skinned dwarves who looked twice as sinister as regular dwarves.

Two-headed trolls and ogres. Humans with horse lower bodies and humans made entirely of shadows. Dragons without wings. Even orcs. It was like an exhibition of exotic races.

…Orcs?

Wait a minute. What are they? Weren’t all orcs extinct except for one?

I looked again several times in disbelief, but what I saw didn’t change.

An orc.

Though there was only one, there was definitely an orc proudly standing among this army.

An orc warrior I had never seen before, different from Caljarat.

‘That is an orc, right…? Though it looks quite different from Caljarat.’

[ It seems to be an orc… The difference in appearance might be due to… gender? ]

It was even a female warrior.

With a face somewhat flat like typical orcs, but unlike Caljarat, she looked sturdy rather than ugly—an impressive female orc warrior.

For me, who firmly believed Caljarat was the last orc, she was an astonishing presence.

So I approached her, thinking I might strike up a conversation.

“…What is it? Do you have business with me?”

The orc woman turned to glance at me and asked cautiously. Perhaps sensing the difference in power, her eyes held a hint of wariness and anxiety.

“I just didn’t expect to meet an orc here. What’s your name?”

I smiled lightly to indicate I had no hostile intentions and gave her a quick once-over.

A sturdy build just over 2 meters tall with a two-handed axe even larger than her height. A helmet and armor made from dragon scales torn off with the hide. An impressive battle tattoo extending from her left arm to her cheek.

“Arkala of the Red Axe Clan. And you?”

“Uh… you don’t know who I am?”

“I’ve heard many rumors about your reputation. Never heard your name though.”

She shrugged with an amused smirk at my bewildered response. It was a hearty laugh befitting an orc warrior, rather than feminine.

“Haschal. Haschal Median Austika Aishan-Gioro.”

“That’s too long. Should I call you Aishan-Gioro?”

“Median would be better.”

“Alright.”

After that brief introduction, I asked what I really wanted to know.

“Do you know Caljarat?”

“The six-armed War Devil? Of course I know him. Who wouldn’t know that famous battle maniac?”

“He thinks he’s the last orc.”

“My clan came to this land separately from him, and we never made contact.”

Ah, so… orcs didn’t actually go extinct, but no one would meet him, so he thought he was the last orc? That’s rather…

[ It seems that orc had a rock-bottom reputation among other clans. ]

Indeed. With that personality, how could he be popular? Everyone avoided getting involved with him. Completely understandable.

“How many are in your clan?”

“Now it’s just me. Everyone else died of old age.”

“Um… should I say I’m sorry?”

“No need to worry. It’s ancient history from hundreds of years ago.”

Arkala’s people, the Red Axe Clan, had settled in Naraka separately from Caljarat’s tribe, lived among themselves, and gradually dwindled until they died out.

The only survivor was Arkala, who had inherited a demigod’s divinity, gaining longevity and immense power.

In other words, while Caljarat might not be the last orc, he was the last “male” orc.

Which meant Arkala was the last female orc.

The hope that Caljarat had desperately yearned for before finally giving up—a potential wife to help orcs flourish again—was right here.

“So, do you have any thoughts about… revitalizing your race? Caljarat was obsessed with that.”

“Revitalizing the race…? Oh, you’re asking if I’d consider mating with Caljarat?”

“That’s a rather crude way to put it… but yes, that’s what I mean. So what do you think?”

With an entire race nearly extinct and only two remaining—a male and female demigod at that. Isn’t this like an Adam and Eve scenario?

Caljarat himself, unaware of Arkala’s existence, had half given up and eventually turned to “other methods,” but if he learned about her, he wouldn’t hesitate to rush over and propose.

If they united, the orc race could naturally increase again instead of through artificial means… and Caljarat would escape my control.

The reason he works under me is because he believes it’s the only way to revitalize the orc race.

So I had to be wary of that possibility…

“That bald old man is… I’d rather live alone.”

It seemed there was no such possibility. When I asked if she would consider marrying Caljarat, her face immediately contorted.

“Um… I thought orcs naturally didn’t have hair?”

“We do.”

Arkala let out a disbelieving laugh and removed her helmet, revealing somewhat stiff but well-maintained brown braided hair.

‘…She has hair?’

[ Yes, quite abundant… ]

That was the moment we learned that what Caljarat had lost wasn’t just his kin.