Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 416: Section 278: Search (Part 2)

Chapter 416: Section 278: Search (Part 2)

As they approached the location mentioned by the Knight who had been driving the carriage, Malin pulled the reins. Continuing down the main road was no longer a good idea. With the War Dog and the two girls, Malin carefully made his way along the slope at the top of the main street on the east side.

This was the downwind side, and the wind coming from the northwest would carry the stench of the orcs, while their own scent would not be picked up by the opposition.

After rounding a corner and following the street, Malin saw a dozen or so orcs.

As a race that had not completed civilization, orcs were called strong orcs in the Middle Ages to distinguish them from the orcs living in The Great Forest Land. When Malin learned this knowledge, he had to restrain himself from asking old Hoffman if this world also had a white-robed mage with water on the brain.

There were thirteen orcs on the street in total, seven of whom were warriors with various melee weapons. They were strong, so their weapons were varied, with stone clubs and stone axes being the most common.

Three were archers with very rough bows in their hands – such bows would be garbage if held by humans, able at best to hit the largest target more than ten meters away, which was the ground beneath their feet. Whether they could hit anything else depended on whether the head of the target was well-positioned or not.

Two with staffs looked like shamans or druids — the orcs were skilled in natural Spell Formations, which is what shamans and druids typically used.

There was another one, right under Malin’s feet. This individual, holding a human military crossbow, was presumably their sentinel set up for ambush, tasked with watching to see if any fat sheep or prickly prey approached from either side.

Unfortunately for it, it failed to detect Malin and the two girls dressed in ghillie suits moving through the woods. Its nearly two-meter-tall stature and its green skin, which starkly contrasted with the surrounding environment, gave it away.

Eventually, Lorrin and Melo ambushed it, and it was strangled to death there on the ground.

Having assigned their targets, Malin left Blood Roar, Fio, and Melo to the two girls, then he and Lorrin moved to the bottom of the slope. They circled to the other side of the slope from their blind spot and then he drew his bow.

The first target was one with a staff — killing the mage first is always the top priority when initiating a fight. Therefore, Malin, drawing his bow, aimed at an orc closest to him. This was a smaller figure among the orcs, peeling a deer on the side of the road. When the arrowhead pierced its head, the hunched figure didn’t fall immediately. An orc who was eating a rabbit raw, while facing away from him, seemed to hear the sound of a knife drop. Cursing, it turned its head just as Malin’s second arrow arrived.

The arrow pierced the side of its head, bringing it down to the ground, and announced the arrival of the Grim Reaper to everyone present.

As the three archers turned their attention to Malin’s side, he saw Jessica poke her body out from behind him, her pulley crossbow arrows piercing through the back of the nearest bowman, bringing it down. At the same time, Faye’s Flame Burst hit two close archers, instantly igniting the fur on their bodies, causing the orc archers to howl and roll on the ground in agony.

The remaining orcs split into two groups, with five charging towards Faye’s side—the mage being the most terrifying target.

The remaining two orcs, wielding stone axes, charged towards Malin’s side.

Malin turned the road foundation into a quagmire using the ’Stone to Mud’ spell, and the two orcs plunged headfirst into it.

Then he happily began shooting the orcs in the back. After Malin had taken down two and Jessica had taken down two more, the last one charged up the slope, bellowing as it rushed towards Faye’s hiding spot, only to encounter Blood Roar.

And just like that, it was cleaved in two, as easily as chopping wood.

After descending the slope, Malin had three small trees keep watch from the top of the slope and then pulled out his Revolver, pointing it at the orcs still struggling in the mud. "Can you speak human?"

The two orcs continued to struggle.

Jessica descended the slope with Faye.

Malin fired a shot into the mud between the two orcs.

One orc paused for a moment, while the other seemed almost able to struggle out.

So Malin pulled the trigger toward that one, killing the orc in the mud, then aimed the gun at the other: "Can you speak human?"

"Don’t shoot me!" the orc raised its hands.

"...Where did you learn that from?" Now it was Malin’s turn to be stunned.

"From my foster father, I was raised by humans, but I eventually ran away because they all said I was a mongrel." As it said this, the orc sighed in a very human-like way.

Although Malin really wanted to see any sign of lying on its face, the brute spoke the common tongue too perfectly. Malin was a student of Southern language in Carterburg under Sydney, and to this day, he still found two of the phonemes somewhat tongue-twisting.

And with an appearance like that, anyone would know you’re not your foster father’s child, wouldn’t they?

"...Did your group attack some young humans a few days ago?"

"No," the orc shook his head. "We were just chased out of the forest by a pair of ogres the other day. Those two ogres had marks of slaves on them, but I don’t know who their master is."

"Ogres?" Malin fell silent for a moment—the intel indeed mentioned ogre attacks, but it wasn’t as they had thought; it seemed that those accompanying the ogres were not these orcs.

"Yes... Are you, are you a Prairie Elf?" The orc’s question puzzled Malin—according to the current intel, his father was indeed of Prairie Elf bloodline, but how could an orc know that: "How do you know."

"When I was young, my foster father served as a servant to a Prairie Elf master. He taught me to speak the Common Tongue... When I saw you, you reminded me of him." As he said this, the orc sighed. "I thought I had forgotten my past, but today I found out I hadn’t, so... Are you going to kill me?"

"...Are you the leader of these orcs?"

"No, the shaman whom you killed first was our leader. I was brought along because I can speak the Common Tongue, originally to negotiate with a human caravan for some food." The orc paused then continued, "I won’t tell you the location of our camp. Although I am an orc, I have a conscience. The tribe took me in; I cannot betray them."

After pondering for a moment, Malin eventually holstered his revolver. "You can go. However, I don’t recommend going back to that camp. All your companions are dead except for you. You should know how they will view you without me telling you."

The orc watched as Malin didn’t move, but beckoned the two girls to follow him.

Once Malin and his party had left, the orc started to struggle, and by the time he managed to fight his way out of the mud pit, he saw two horses appear at the path from the North, and then more horses and knights.

The orc pondered for a moment, then stepped to the side of the road—signaling surrender by yielding the way.

However, the group of six knights eventually stopped in front of him.

One knight dismounted and walked over: "Green-skinned orc, who was firing the gun just now?" It was very standard orcish.

The orc was silent for a moment, then nodded. "A group of people killed my companions, then they asked a question about an ogre and headed into the woods."

"Ogres, Your Excellency, it seems someone else is also after our quarry."

"No matter, ogres are so large; their heads aren’t the only things that can catch our bullets," said the leading knight as he dismounted. As they walked past the green-skinned orc, one of them tossed him a piece of jerky: "These days, orcs that can speak the standard Common Tongue are rarer than beautiful women. Keep your head on your shoulders. Maybe one day there will be a tribe of green-skinned orcs who can speak just like humans."

"You must be dreaming, kid," an older knight chuckled.

After the party of five entered the street, the orc glanced at the sixth person who stayed behind to watch the horses. "Can I go now?"

"Go ahead. If they didn’t kill you, we won’t either. After all, as my friend said, a green-skin that can talk is indeed very rare."

And so the orc began to walk in the opposite direction of his camp.

After taking several dozen steps, he heard a heavy thud behind him.

Instinctively turning around, he saw a figure dressed in ragged clothes similar to those three kids.

The latter pulled a weapon out of the back of a knight’s heart, then turned to the orc: "Did they come looking for the ogre?"

"...Yes." The orc’s heart was pounding wildly—this man was very dangerous.

"Not one of Malin’s men, they are Tech Hunters." The man checked the body, then turned to look at the air beside him.

It was only then that the orc noticed the air in that spot was warping.

Eventually, a young human appeared there.

He nodded. "Our slave seems to have attracted hunters we shouldn’t have. But no matter, kill them all, and then... find Malin. He wants my life, doesn’t he? Let’s see who the real hunter in the wilderness is."

"And what about this orc?" the man asked.

"Kill him." The young human walked away, and the man raised his revolver.

"Goodnight," he said.

It was the final phrase the orc heard in this world.

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