Orc Hero Story | [Chapter 1] [Volume 3]

The Dobanga Pit.

That was the name of the massive vertical shaft located in Mount Rindo, just north of the Shiwanashi Forest.

This colossal crater was formed when a volcano erupted from the sheer force of a battle between the Ogre Berserker, Gugugora, and the Dwarven Prince, Bongobongo.

Bongobongo died in the blast, and the Ogre claimed victory.

Afterward, the Ogres annexed the pit as their territory, transforming it into their frontline base: Rindo Fortress.

The Seven Races Alliance used this stronghold as a foothold to invade the Four Races Alliance, gaining the upper hand in countless battles.

But eventually, even that mighty fortress fell.

The one who brought it down was a single Dwarven warrior.

He led a band of Dwarven fighters in a frontal assault, forced the Ogre general, Jeneral, into a one-on-one duel, and defeated him. He then occupied the fortress.

The Dwarf who conquered the stronghold was named Doradoradobanga. Yes, the very same Doradoradobanga who would later be known as the "Dwarven War Demon."

Following his victory, the vertical shaft became his domain and was officially renamed the Dobanga Pit.

Bash and Zell were traveling along the main road leading to the Dobanga Pit.

"It's coming into view, Danna," Zell said.

White smoke billowed from various spots across Mount Rindo, spreading out before their eyes. It looked as if the entire mountain was boiling.

Of course, this wasn't a natural phenomenon. The Dwarven town was built right into that mountain.

Almost all Dwarves were blacksmiths, and every family had their own workshop. The smoke puffing out of the mountain came from their forges.

"Brings back memories. I used to get lost in there all the time," Bash murmured.

The Dwarven town was a complex maze, just like an ant colony. Since the Dwarves lived in the mountain, they relentlessly mined for ore, turning the place into Swiss cheese.

Because every resident carved out the rock however they pleased, the town naturally morphed into a labyrinth and, consequently, an impenetrable fortress. Humans often worried about its structural integrity, terrified of cave-ins, but the Dwarves were master builders. In reality, their underground city was far sturdier than any house built on the surface by Humans.

Bash had fought in the Dobanga Pit on several occasions.

Yet, his only memories were of getting hopelessly lost.

"Wait, you actually got lost, Danna!?"

Zell's recollection of those times was completely different. As far as the fairy knew, Bash had always returned to the encampment without a hitch.

"Yeah. I was always lost here."

Once you went in, you couldn't get out for three days. You lost all contact with the outside world, sporadic skirmishes scattered your unit, and you had to keep fighting in a warzone without even knowing if your comrades were dead or alive.

It was a bitter memory.

"Whoa! You always made it back like it was no big deal, so I just assumed you knew the layout like the back of your hand!"

"Of course not."

Obviously, Bash hadn't memorized the structural layout.

He would wander around, get completely lost, grow starving hungry, and right when things looked grim, he would simply smash through the walls to dig his way out.

Since the Dobanga Pit was a mountain, no matter where you were, if you just kept digging diagonally upward, you'd eventually hit the surface.

As a side note, this method frequently triggered massive cave-ins.

Because of this, the Dwarves called Bash "The Destroyer."

"I hear they've renovated the town lately, so the roads are way easier to figure out now!" Zell chimed in.

"Is that right?"

"I only saw it once before we got here, but yeah! It used to be like an ant nest, but now the residential and commercial districts are clearly separated. I was blown away! The commercial district is crazy—there's like ten bars lined up in a row! And all the shops are connected inside, so the Dwarves just walk into one end and pop out the other! It's way beyond a simple pub crawl!"

"That sounds like fun. Hopefully, I'll find some good booze."

Though not quite on the level of Dwarves, Orcs loved their alcohol too.

It was said that Orcs had zero creativity and survived by stealing everything from other races, but they did brew their own booze. Compared to Dwarven ale, it tasted like muddy water, but Orcs drank the stuff like they were bathing in it.

Bash was, without a doubt, the greatest of Orcs. Naturally, he enjoyed a good drink.

Just enough to visit the tavern every night, even if he dreaded the younger guys hounding him about his history with women.

Knowing he could drink Dwarven ale was enough to make his heart swell with anticipation.

"Hopefully, you'll find a wife too," Zell added.

"...Yeah."

However, his crotch lacked the same swelling enthusiasm.

"You seem a little down, Danna. What's wrong?"

"Hmm, you can tell?"

"Of course I can! Do you know how closely I watch you, Danna? I pride myself on being the absolute best in the world at reading your face! Unfortunately, I don't have the magic to read minds. So while I can read your face, I can't look deep into your heart! Come on, what's eating at you? Just tell me! Even if it's no big deal, sometimes venting makes you feel a whole lot better!"

"Well, the truth is..."

Just as Bash was about to open up—

"I told you!"

"Let go, let go of me!"

Suddenly, the sound of people arguing drifted from up ahead.

Wondering what was going on, they looked down the road and saw a bridge. Near the center of it, an Elf and a Dwarf were glaring at each other.

"Yikes, looks pretty tense..."

"It can't be helped."

Elves and Dwarves hated each other.

Dwarves cut down the forest to use as fuel, while Elves loved the forest and were loved by it in return. They were complete opposites—existences that simply could not coexist.

"Huh? But wait, it doesn't really look like they're fighting."

As they got closer, the situation looked a bit strange.

Rather than an Elf and a Dwarf going at it, it looked more like two Dwarves fighting among themselves while the Elf watched in utter bewilderment.

"That's exactly why you're no good! You're always trying to rely on someone else's strength!"

"Then what am I supposed to do!? Fight with my own sword!? You guys went out and hired famous warriors!"

"That's not what I'm saying!"

When Bash and Zell got even closer, the picture became perfectly clear.

Two Dwarven women were arguing. One had grabbed the other by the arm and was trying to drag her back toward the Dwarven country.

The other was resisting, digging her heels in like a stubborn dog.

"I'm telling you to polish your own smithing skills first!"

"I've polished them enough! I'm confident I can forge better gear than any of you!"

"Say that after you've hammered out a thousand more swords!"

"I don't need to! I'll prove it at the Bushingu Festival!"

"Ugh, you stubborn kid! I'm telling you it's impossible for you right now!"

"It is not! If you don't get in my way, Neesan, I'll even win the whole thing!"

The woman doing the grabbing was short but heavily muscled, sporting a bulbous nose and a fierce expression as she intimidated the other.

She had a wide face, a broad forehead, a big mouth, and massive hands. She looked like the type who would sit cross-legged on a chair and let out a boisterous, unrefined laugh—the textbook definition of a Dwarven woman.

"..."

Seeing this, Bash felt profoundly disappointed.

(Just as I thought... Dwarven women are...)

There was a reason Bash only had high hopes for the booze in the Dwarven country.

And that reason was the physical appearance of Dwarven women.

Simply put, they just weren't his type.

Of course, he didn't need them to be delicate or refined.

But look at her! She looked like a laughing boulder.

Where in the world was the Orc who could get turned on by a rock?

Sure, for Bash, as long as he could lose his virginity, anyone would do.

And while he didn't really like the look of Dwarven women, they weren't as totally off-limits as Lizardmen or Killer Bees.

But Bash was still a man.

If possible, he wanted to lose it to someone he actually found attractive.

"Huh? What do you want... an Orc?"

Perhaps sensing Bash's stare, the Dwarven woman noticed him.

She looked up, her face scrunching into a blatant scowl.

"I am a traveler," Bash said plainly.

It was hard to guess a Dwarf's age, but this woman wasn't particularly old.

Despite her fierce expression, she didn't give off an overwhelming sense of intimidation, and her demeanor lacked a certain edge. She probably wasn't a veteran warrior. In this post-war era, a non-veteran meant she was a rookie.

However, judging by the thickness of her arms, it was clear she had done her fair share of training.

A promising youngster, perhaps.

"A stray Orc, huh?"

"I am not a stray. My name is Bash. I am traveling in search of something. I wish to enter the Dwarven country."

"In search of something, you say?"

The Dwarven woman stared intently at Bash's face.

Then, she let out a sharp laugh and gestured down the road with her chin.

"...Alright, pass through if you want."

"What!?" cried the Elven guard in shock.

She was a beautiful woman.

She had the slender figure typical of Elves, yet her waist curved perfectly, and her hips had a decidedly feminine softness.

Her blonde hair was tied in a braid, and she carried a faint scent of flowers. Sadly, the white flower adorning her hair suggested she was likely married.

Seeing Bash, she had already backed up about three paces.

It seemed this Elf had faced Orcs in battle before; her face was completely pale with terror.

Her face was gorgeous, and that frightened expression was a huge turn-on. If he hugged her, she'd definitely smell amazing, and she'd feel incredible to the touch.

"He's an Orc, you know!? Are you sure!? You're just going to let him through!?"

"I don't mind... Not that it's my call anyway. But unlike you Elves, we Dwarves don't put restrictions on who can enter. Unless he's some major wanted criminal, anyone is welcome. Or what, are you the kind of thug who's got a bounty on his head? Planning to cause trouble in our country?"

Prompted by the Dwarven woman, Bash shook his head.

"No."

"Then it's fine. Take all the time you need looking for whatever it is in our country."

"I can't believe this... Do you have any idea... what kind of race Orcs are...?"

The Elf spoke with a look of utter dread, prompting the Dwarven woman to laugh sharply once again.

"I know. Orcs don't give a flying damn about Dwarven women. Hell, look at this guy—he's been staring at you this whole time, not me."

"Ah!"

The Elven guard hugged herself defensively and took another step back.

Bash slowly pulled his eyes away from her.

It was true, the Elf was a stunningly beautiful woman. He really couldn't be blamed for staring.

In contrast, the Dwarven woman was exactly like a rock.

Looking at her didn't turn him on in the slightest. Even if he hugged her, it would just turn into a contest of sheer strength.

If they had crossed paths on the battlefield as warriors, it might have made for an honorable duel, but he had absolutely no desire to take her home as a bride afterward.

"This Orc traveled all the way from a town full of his favorite Elves just to get into the Dwarven country. He must be looking for something really damn important. Something way more important than chasing tail in the Elven lands."

"...Right."

Needless to say, Bash's actual goal was chasing tail.

He was traveling to find a wife and lose his virginity.

Honestly, he would have preferred an Elf.

However, the only Elven settlement in the area was the town in the Shiwanashi Forest, and he had been told that accomplishing his goal there was downright impossible. That was why he had come to the Dwarven country.

Rumor had it that a similar phenomenon to what was happening in the Elven country was occurring in the Dobanga Pit.

There was a massive marriage-hunting boom going on with the Elves. If the same thing was happening with the Dwarves, he figured he had a chance.

He had come relying on that single shred of information, but seeing a real Dwarf up close confirmed his fears—they were definitely not his type.

Still, Bash was a man who had survived a long, grueling war.

Within those seemingly endless battles, he had fought against Dwarves.

From that experience, he knew that even among Dwarves, there were beauties—at least by Orc standards.

They might be a few tiers below Humans or Elves, and their absolute numbers might be minuscule, but he knew for a fact that there had to be a woman who matched his preferences.

He didn't genuinely believe he could claim such a woman. But there was a chance.

That was why he was pushing forward, devoid of high hopes, clinging to that tiny sliver of a chance.

"Hurry up and pass through. We're in the middle of something here."

"I'll do that."

Bash spoke, moving to brush past her.

Right then, he casually glanced at the face of the person the woman had been gripping this entire time.

(Whoa!)

She was gorgeous.

Her hair was the unruly red typical of Dwarves, and her eyebrows were a bit thick, but her facial features were entirely different from the woman beside her.

She had a beautifully sloped nose and clear blue eyes. While she couldn't exactly be called skinny, she possessed a soft plumpness, and her limbs gave off a slender, Human-like impression...

For a Dwarf, she was on the taller side, and well-endowed to boot.

She was a girl truly deserving of the word "beautiful," and she was right in Bash's strike zone.

(I had no idea there were women this stunning among the Dwarves!)

Bash stopped in his tracks.

He had no idea what kind of boom was happening in the Dwarven country. Honestly, he hadn't been expecting much.

But if there were women like her, that changed everything.

Immediately, Bash's mind went into overdrive, plotting out how to make his move.

(If I recall, when I was with the Elves...)

He dug through his memories, trying to figure out the best way to woo her.

In the Human country, he stayed clean, acted mysterious, and showed off his manliness.

In the Elven country, he flaunted his wealth with a flashy gold necklace and proposed in traditional Elven attire.

Both attempts had ended in failure, but the underlying methods shouldn't have been wrong.

So what about the Dwarven country? What kind of etiquette did they follow?

(Damn it, if I knew this was going to happen, I would've asked Zell beforehand...)

He never expected to find such a knockout right at the entrance, so he had completely neglected his intelligence gathering.

(Now that I think about it, bad things always happen when I skimp on info gathering. That's how my comrade-in-arms, Donzoi, died in combat. Right here in the Dobanga Pit, we didn't have enough intel, he got separated on the battlefield, and he never came back... And that wasn't the only time. There was the battle at the Zariko Plains, too—)

While Bash was agonizing over this with a grim expression on his face...

"Hey! You there! You're a warrior, right!? And a damn famous one, by the looks of it!"

The girl shouted.

She was looking right at Bash, a desperate look on her face.

"I am. What of it?"

As Bash simply answered the question, the girl's face burst into a radiant smile.

And then, she said it.

The fateful words. Words Bash never expected to hear, yet had been dying to hear for so long, delivered in an impossibly cute voice...

Yes, the words were:

"Be my fighter!"

It was a proposal.