Chương 40: Chapter 39 One Year Until the Challenge

"When do you intend to challenge me?" Grild stared at Karath with a dignified expression. Both his voice and face carried the full authority of a chief. Why were his hands folded so carefully over his lap? Was something itching? The thought briefly entered Karath's mind, but he kept his expression serious and answered calmly.

"Karath does not intend to challenge you yet."

"Everyone in the settlement already knows that you are the strongest, Karath." Karath shook his head at the chief's insistent encouragement.

"Strength alone cannot solve everything. Karath has only just become an adult. He does not yet understand exactly how the elders organize patrols or conduct hunts. If Karath became chief under those circumstances, he would be unable to give proper orders." Karath had considered the matter for a long time, so the explanation flowed naturally.

"But you have directed the adults during construction projects since you were a child."

"Karath could do that because he personally observed the work while giving instructions. Patrols and hunts are different. It is difficult to understand them without participating personally."

"Ahem." Grild coughed, looking disappointed by Karath's firm refusal. When Karath first received the prophecy that he would become chief, he had feared Grild might try to eliminate him. He now knew better. Grild sincerely wanted to surrender the position. Even so, the time had not yet come. Karath understood better than most how much suffering could be caused when someone unfamiliar with practical work became a leader.

During his military service, he had once served as a squad leader beneath a newly commissioned ROTC second lieutenant who knew almost nothing about field operations. Later, after joining one of the largest game companies in America, he had watched developers suffer beneath planning and marketing departments that understood almost nothing about creating games. More importantly, Karath still needed to explore the forest. That was the greatest reason, though he did not tell Grild.

Objectively, the Bloodclaw Tribe remained at a Neolithic level. The earthen houses and soap were merely unusual advancements within an otherwise primitive society. To raise the settlement to something resembling the Iron Age, Karath needed to discover iron ore or another material that could serve the same purpose. He might also search for silkworms capable of producing cloth, deposits of rock salt, or other resources the orcs could not recognize but he might.

He needed to find something hidden within the forest that only a person with modern knowledge could identify. If Karath became chief and simply ordered the tribespeople to search for such things, they would have no idea what he meant. They had never seen them. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. Karath needed to locate the first example with his own eyes and hands.

Admittedly, he had never personally seen iron ore, silkworm cocoons, or rock salt either. However, he at least understood what they were, making him far more likely to recognize them than the other orcs. Once he found one example, he could show it to the tribespeople and tell them to search for similar objects. Finding something no one had ever seen was difficult. Finding more of something already known was much easier. Karath fell silent. It was still difficult to ignore the chief's pleading gaze.

The orc who had once seemed endlessly powerful had grown smaller with age. He was nowhere near frail, but his great body had clearly diminished. Karath felt guilty about forcing someone approaching the age of an elder to continue carrying the responsibility. After living together for fifteen years, he had become attached to Grild.

"Give Karath one year, Chief. After spending that year learning about the forest, Karath will challenge you."

"Ahem. Very well." After promising Grild a single year of delay, Karath left the chief's house. The settlement outside resembled a lively rural festival. Everyone was excited by the prospect of filling their stomachs with troll meat, a rare and supposedly nourishing meal.

"Hup!" The women butchered the troll and the other animals brought back by the hunters.

"Krahahaha! Son, you must eat plenty of troll meat if you want to become a brave warrior like Karath!" The uncles laughed as they filled the heads of their five and six-year-old children with nonsense. For some reason, the sight reminded Karath of his own childhood and filled him with warmth. Whimper. A quiet cry came from beside him. The wolf pup Karath had placed on the ground before entering Grild's house staggered toward him on weak legs.

"You must not have eaten for several days." The pup had already looked exhausted when Karath found it. Judging by the way it could barely walk, it had probably gone without food for some time. Karath picked it up and approached the women butchering the meat.

"Aunt Gerina, may Karath have some meat?"

"Of course! You brought back an entire troll today. You should eat as much as you want!" Gerina had apparently assumed Karath was requesting food for himself rather than the pup. Since Karath also needed to eat, there was no reason to correct her. Crack. Slice. Slice. Using a stone blade with her usual skill, Gerina cut into the troll's flesh.

"Delina must be so happy. Her son has grown wonderfully."

"Exactly! Karath is younger than my son, but mine is still so weak. Why could he not grow as impressively?" One of the women began praising Karath, and the others immediately joined her, criticizing their own sons while comparing them to him. Karath had become the child every other mother wished she had.

"Heh heh. Delina did nothing special. It must all be thanks to the ogre heart his father left behind." Delina redirected the praise toward Garthon, who had died protecting the settlement. Despite her words, pride filled her eyes as she looked at Karath.

"That is right! Delina ate an ogre's heart while she was carrying Karath!"

"Karath, could you bring back an ogre next time instead of a troll? Perhaps my son would grow like you if he ate its heart." The women continued chatting. Apparently, gossip among middle-aged women transcended both species and historical eras.

"Do not ask a child to do something so dangerous! Ogres are terrifying. Besides, if Karath kills one, the heart obviously belongs to him." Gerina intervened on Delina's behalf and handed Karath the meat. It was not ordinary meat. She had given him the troll's heart.

"You hunted it alone, so the most important part naturally belongs to you." Cold sweat formed on Karath's skin as he stared at the blood-filled red organ. It looked as though it might begin beating again at any moment. Fifteen years had passed since Karath became an orc, but he still did not enjoy raw meat. The other orcs did not particularly enjoy eating it raw either. Through experience, they understood that meat from anything other than freshly killed prey could be dangerous.

Even fresh meat carried parasites and disease in the wilderness, but the tribe had not discovered that much. Their instincts and accumulated experience had at least taught them that cooked meat was generally safer. Certain body parts associated with their primitive beliefs were exceptions. The heart of a powerful monster was one of them. Until now, Karath had eaten only the meat the adults distributed to the children, which was almost always cooked. He had completely forgotten one important tradition.

The hunter who killed a powerful monster was expected to eat its heart raw. Sweat trickled down Karath's back. Whimper. The wolf pup in his arms made another faint sound and pulled his attention downward. Drool flowed from its mouth as it stared at the heart.

"Thank you. Karath will enjoy it." An idea occurred to him. Karath accepted the troll's heart and quietly moved toward an isolated corner of the settlement.

"Here." He held it out to the wolf pup. The creature attacked the heart with such energy that it was difficult to believe it had been weak moments earlier. Chomp. Chomp. Slurp.

"You certainly eat well." The pup devoured the troll's heart as though possessed by starvation. Once it finished, it already seemed to have recovered some strength. It panted, wagged its tail, and looked up at Karath with bright eyes. Pant. Pant. Woof! Woof! The way it pressed against him reminded Karath of the dog that had lived on his grandmother's farm during Arnold's childhood.

"Good. From today onward, your name is Buddy. Understand, Buddy?" He gave the wolf the same name as that long-dead dog. Woof! Woof! When Karath called it Buddy, the pup barked and nodded as though it understood.