Praise the Orc!-Chapter 125: Conqueror of the North

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One had to kill the current chieftain to become the new chieftain, and no one could intervene in the fight. It had to be a one-on-one fight, and they had to duel in front of the chiefdom’s warriors with everything on the line. The duel for the position of the chieftain was the most sacred ritual of chiefdom orcs.

“You are not qualified,” said Calmahart with a scowl.

Crockta shook his head. “You and I are both orcs. What else do we need?”

It was as Crockta had said. There was only one qualification needed to become the chieftain—to be an orc. Any orc born with the blood of a warrior could become the chieftain. Shireuga and Kaburak backed away.

Calmahart and Crockta stood quietly and looked at each other as numerous orc soldiers surrounded them.

Calmahart smirked, “Hahaha, hahahahaha...” He chuckled to himself with his head down and then erupted in laughter. “Hahahahahahahahahaha! You are struggling even ‘til the very end! Crockta!” He shook his head as he exploded in laughter. “The orcs are under my control! Do you not understand what this means? You can’t control anyone. Watch! Then despair!” Calmahart raised his hands up.

“Orcs of the chiefdom, I’m Chieftain Calmahart, your ruler!” Red energy seeped out from his body. It scattered throughout the earth and wrapped around the orcs’ bodies. The madness in the orcs’ eyes intensified as the orcs trembled. The orcs’ throats throbbed with a thirst for blood. It was the energy of Chaos.

“Kill that trash from the continent.” Calmahart’s eyes had a sinister glint to them. His authoritative voice echoed throughout the plains. “Slaughter him.”

The orcs began to walk forward as Calmahart’s red energy pressed them on. They raised their weapons as the madness surged within them.

Crockta looked at them one by one. They didn’t have any willpower or principles. They were just led by the madness that dominated them as they walked toward Crockta. The cold glint of numerous weapons was pointed at Crockta. Had Calmahart already won? Crockta clasped his greatsword. Even if he had, he would fight to the very end.

Crockta was about to swing his weapon toward them when a weapon dropped on the ground with a clang. It was from an orc standing at the front of the battle line. He wasn’t a Great Warrior or a commander. He was one of the countless orc soldiers whose name wouldn’t even be remembered even if he died on the battlefield. He was a fraction of a large army.

He had dropped his weapon of his own accord. He beat his chest with his fists as he suppressed the surging madness. Then he said, “A duel is sacred.” He didn’t march forward anymore. Instead, he retreated. That was the beginning.

The orc standing by his side also dropped his weapon. Then, he took a step back and struck his own chest. “No one can interfere in the battle for the position of a chieftain.”

Weapons began dropping to the ground. The orcs continued to retreat. The red energy inside their bodies gradually dimmed and now looked like faint waves of light. The sound of the orcs beating their chests rang throughout the plains. “No one can interfere in the duel for the position of the chieftain.”

“The chieftain can’t reject an invitation for battle!”

“The victor becomes the chieftain!”

Now, only Calmahart and Crockta were carrying weapons. It was a Colosseum created by an orc army.

Crockta looked around at the orcs. He could see willpower and principles in their eyes. Crockta smiled and then suddenly met eyes with Shireuga. He beat his chest and nodded. Crockta also beat his chest according to the custom of the North. Then, he looked at Calmahart. His face distorted like a demon’s. He was in utter rage because his command had been rejected. He raised his double-headed axe without a word.

Crockta also clasped his greatsword. It was speckled with bloodstains. If he thought about the number of lives that fell under the Ogre Slayer, it was hard to even carry the sword due to its crushing weight. However, he had to grip the hilt even tighter. The weight of it could only be lifted by slaughtering Calmahart.

“Do you think you can win against me one-on-one?”

The sunset that hung over the horizon scattered red light over the plains as a long shadow loomed over the ground.

“You have a lot to say, Calmahart.”

Calmahart slowly turned in circles. Crockta began to move in response. They circled each other, eyeing their opponent.

“I will kill you today and crush everything that is precious to you. The continent will turn to ashes, and I will make all of your friends in Orcrox into slaves and make them lick my feet. I will make a chalice out of your skull and make you watch everything,” said Calmahart as he gritted his teeth.

Crockta didn’t reply and put all of his focus on his powers. The world slowed down, and he looked at Calmahart. One step, one step, one step, half a step, one-fourth of a step, half a step again. The world slowed down to absolute stillness.

He felt everything on his skin—the rough breaths of the orcs surrounding them, the inhalation and exhalation of waste through the lungs, eyes warily observing the duel, and the rough sensation of the ground underneath.

He could feel each strand of twilight rising from the horizon. He could clearly tell how powerful Calmahart was. His presence was crushing. Even the combined energy within the horizon could not compare to Calmahart’s ominous aura as he stood alone before Crockta.

Then, something awoke in the back of his mind; it stirred as it raised its ugly head. It was fear. Crockta couldn’t help but laugh. Calmahart was frightening. Calmahart, who had received the powers of chaos, could be the strongest opponent he had faced up to this point. Thus, Crockta moved first. He struck a decisive blow. The ground cracked, and the earth shook. He stomped the seed of fear. Crockta swung his greatsword.

The double-headed axe and the Ogre Slayer clashed. Sparks flew as their sharpened weapons clashed. An acrobatic play of swords ensued. They dodged each other’s attacks by a hair’s breadth.

The upward, downward, and diagonal movement of the sparks from the weapons dazzled the eyes of onlookers. It was a fight between two burly forces, Calmahart with the body of a monster and Crockta with the robust physique of an orc. They were so fast that the eyes of onlookers couldn’t keep up with their movements. Their exchange of blows looked like a strand of light to the normal eye.

Their weapons clashed and created an explosive roar like the sound of gunpowder. The first one to take a hit was Crockta. Calmahart managed to tear his shoulder; flesh parted and blood gushed out. Calmahart smirked. Even from a slight graze Crockta’s flesh was torn and gushed blood. It was a display of tremendous power. Crockta wiped the blood off and gripped the hilt of his Ogre Slayer tightly. They exchanged attacks again.

This time, Calmahart was the one who was injured. He received an injury on his thigh, but it healed at noticeable speed. It quickly stopped bleeding. He was indeed a monster.

Their movements gradually grew more intense. They were done testing the waters now. They were in a life-and-death situation. Their throats were on the line. Their blood scattered across the plains at the same time. They roared as their bodies slammed into each other.

***

His ear felt numb. He couldn’t hear properly. Crockta raised his head. The axeblade thrusting toward him flashed red. Crockta saw the sunset within it. The sun hadn't set yet.

He turned his body. The axeblade slid past his throat. Blood dripped. He got back up on his feet and into position. He pointed his greatsword at his opponent. The focus was blurry. His swollen eyes didn’t function properly. He raised his hand and hastily wiped his eyes. The blurred images merged into one.

He saw Calmahart swinging his axe toward him. He dodged by rolling across the ground. His body, covered in wounds, writhed in agony as it pressed against the dirt. Crockta got up by swallowing his pain. The pain was a relief. It woke him up.

Calmahart was looking down at him with arrogant eyes. “How tedious.”

Crockta spat at the ground. He could see the blood spreading in his saliva. Calmahart was strong. Each blow from Calmahart destroyed his body. There was a clear difference in physical strength. Crockta gritted his teeth. His mind re-entered the territory of the Pinnacle.

In a world that had slowed down to a crawl, Crockta swung his greatsword at Calmahart, who blocked it. Even in a world where everything converged into infinite stillness, Calmahart moved swiftly. He kicked Crockta away before Crockta’s attack could even touch him.

Crockta clutched his stomach as he fell. He saw the sky from the ground. The sunset lit up a fiery crimson sky.

‘Why am I enduring all of this pain to fight here?’ Crockta wondered.

He was fighting in Elder Lord, a world that existed in another dimension. But it wasn’t his world. The world he lived in was on Earth, the world where his sister and his café are. The Republic of Korea. He got up. The orcs were still watching them. The sacred duel only ended when one died or surrendered. But Crockta refused to surrender.

“You cannot defeat me,” said Calmahart.

Crockta looked at him. He had a frightening face. He looked even more sinister because of the scar Crockta had made on his face. Instead of replying, Crockta smiled.

He saw a familiar face behind Calmahart. Everyone at Spinora was watching this duel. There were Tiyo and Anor too. The relationships he had formed at Mount Luclan, those he had met and fought with in the North were all facing him. Everyone was looking at him. Everyone believed in him.

‘I believe in you.’

‘Raven, this is your mission.’

‘As expected of oppa.’

He had to always carry their burdens, but he never resented them. Crockta smirked. All of the fights he had gone through were things he had to do, so he succeeded. That was it. There was only one reason why he had to carry the weight of everything. Because only he could do it.

“A warrior doesn’t give up.”

He had first selected an orc character as a joke, but he had become a warrior after meeting the warriors at Orcrox. They were great minds who existed in the world of Elder Lord, they were not just characters in a game.

Things could have been different if he hadn’t met them, but with the experience he had acquired from them, he just carried out the given task as a warrior.

Calmahart was running toward him. His double-headed axe was splitting the air. Its ominous momentum exploded at Crockta as space parted. An unavoidable distance. An unavoidable speed. Crockta gritted his teeth. In the silent world of the Pinnacle, Crockta’s will spread out.

Cause and effect coursed along with the flow of the universe. The way a stone tossed at the sky crashed, the axe swung at him would split his body.

Calmahart was faster than him, and Crockta was no match for his strength. The whole world was moving toward his death. An outcome like death that no one could avoid. ‘God, please watch over us.’ Crockta moved his greatsword. It was feeble compared to Calmahart’s blow, but...

“...!” The axe was narrowly grazing past Crockta’s throat. It was a strange outcome that no cause or condition that existed in the world could create. Crockta, who should be dead, somehow survived. The distortion of causality didn’t stop here. Crockta’s greatsword wavered. The chieftain dodged. It was a clean swerve. Crockta’s greatsword should have definitely slashed nothing but the air, and yet...

“Argh...”

Before he knew it, his greatsword was piercing Calmahart’s throat.

“How...” Calmahart looked at him with eyes of disbelief.

It was a miracle. It was the state beyond cause and effect; a state where one could wield the world according to their will. It was a state brought forth by those who created history instead of being pushed by the flow of history.

[Your Pinnacle Tier skills have been upgraded to Hero Tier.]

Crockta withdrew his Ogre Slayer. Calmahart’s head flew in the air. It was the last of Chieftain Calmahart who made the North tremble in fear. Red energy seeped out from his neck. It contorted and then scattered into pieces. The shattered crimson energy scattered in the wind like flower petals and then completely disappeared. It was the end of Chaos.

“Ahhh...”

Everyone clearly saw it. Crockta had killed the chieftain. The plains fell silent. The one who broke the silence was Shireuga. He struck his chest once and then got down on one knee. Like a giant wave, the orcs began to kneel one by one.

Then, all of the orcs of the chiefdom who had invaded Spinora. All of the orcs made a gesture of respect toward Crockta. No one opened their mouths. The entire North was silent.

The Great Northern War that had started with Calmahart’s rampage had finally come to an end thanks to Crockta. Now...

“Everyone, rise.” f(r)eewebn(o)vel.com

He was the chieftain.

***

“Do you want to go orc hunting?”

“Why an orc all of a sudden?”

“A quest has been given by the system. That chieftain or someone is coming out. It seems like an event. We should start practicing to prepare.”

Youvidser Laney scratched her head as she listened to the conversation of players passing by. Should she at least prepare for the quest? There hasn't been anything interesting going on lately. The Youvids site was flooded with raid and war videos of the Heaven and Earth clan with Choi Han-Sung as the lead.

In the past, she had also followed the Heaven and Earth clan and filmed them, but she couldn’t get used to it. It felt wrong somehow to capture the faces of the dying on the screen, so she quit.

She suddenly thought of the just orc Warrior Crockta who had disappeared. His deeds had touched Laney. His actions were the type of thing that made her heart burn with passion, not cruel war. But with the news that he had departed for the north, his whereabouts became unknown in Elder Lord.

Considering the game’s feature in which NPCs didn’t mind the player’s convenience and led their lives, it was possible that Crockta would never appear in front of them again.

“Whew...” Laney sighed. What should she do now? Did she really have to prepare to face the crazy chieftain? She was entertaining such thoughts when the players began to raise their heads one by one. Laney also raised her head. Elder Lord’s system-wide message window had popped up in front of them. It had a message that no one had imagined.

[The crazy orc chieftain Calmahart of the North had prepared a great war to lead the continent to destruction.]

[His ambition has been shattered.]

[He swept the North into the flames of war and made countless victims, and was about to destroy the World Tree and place the entire North at his feet when he met his fate at the hands of an orc warrior who appeared out of nowhere.]

The players at the public square murmured among themselves.

“What, how could they just back out like that after making a commitment?

“Did they just cancel everything after making preparations because things didn’t work out as planned?

“I bought new equipment just for this!”

But the players became quiet as the message windows continued to pop up.

[The fate of the continent, which was on the verge of a horrendous war, has changed.]

[The title ‘Conqueror of the North’ will be bestowed to the great warrior who had traveled to the North and fought against adversity to carry out his purpose.]

Laney’s eyes grew wide. It was him.

[The ‘Conqueror of the North’, Crockta, had protected the world from the madness of the crazy chieftain.]

[The entire North praises his name.]

[His name will forever go down in the history of Elder Lord.]

[The ‘Conqueror of the North’ is Crockta.]

[He is orc warrior Crockta.]

Crockta had returned.