Chương 52: Chapter 51 A Feast for the Ogre Slayers

When thirty-one warriors returned to the settlement dragging the ogre's corpse behind them, the village erupted into celebration. The Bloodclaw Tribe normally avoided festivals that produced too much noise. Even the Prophecy Festival, one of the settlement's largest events, was relatively quiet. The Harvest Festival was the only day each year when the tribe allowed itself to become truly loud. Making a commotion inside the forest risked attracting monsters. Today, however, no one worried about that danger.

During the battle, the ogre had roared countless times. Those cries had carried all the way to the settlement, which was not particularly far from the battlefield. There could not have been a single nearby animal or monster that failed to hear them. Nothing in this part of the forest would be insane enough to approach after hearing the roar of an ogre, the tyrant of the forest.

"Krahahaha! Well done! You have truly done well, Karath!" Grild gazed at Karath with absolute trust. Jark, standing beside the chief, wore the same expression. So did Delina.

"Karath!" Thud!

"Karath!" Thud! Every orc in the settlement joined the chant. Like the rhythms of the Harvest Festival, they stomped their feet against the ground and created a powerful beat that shook the chest. Standing in the middle of their welcome filled Karath with pride as well. However, the source of his satisfaction differed slightly from theirs. The tribespeople praised him as the great warrior who led the hunt and slew an ogre. Karath was proud for another reason.

Ogres ranked among the strongest creatures in the forest. The fact that the Bloodclaw warriors had killed one without suffering serious losses meant that very few monsters could now threaten the settlement. Expanding the tribe's hunting and patrol territory would become much easier. Developing the village would also become safer. Karath decided that locating a mine should be his first priority. Now that the tribe could extend its territory, he wanted to search for iron ore or some similar mineral.

The ogre hunt had been so exhausting partly because the creature itself was terrifying, but the tribe's poor weapons were equally responsible. Stone and wood could barely pierce the ogre's hide. The tribe also used bones taken from powerful monsters, but even those possessed little more strength than especially durable stone. If they could have shaped those materials into truly sharp edges or points, the situation might have been different.

Unfortunately, the Bloodclaw Tribe lacked the techniques required to refine them properly. The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Their weapons struggled to cut through the ogre's muscles and could do almost nothing against its bones. They had managed to break a few of its thinner finger bones. Even those fingers were only thin by ogre standards. Each was nearly as long as a human foot.

Had the tribe wielded steel axes and spears instead of tools assembled from stone and wood, the battle might have ended at the first pit. Once they gained enough experience, ten warriors might be able to kill an ogre. Perhaps even five would be enough. With proper iron weapons, that possibility was entirely realistic. Orcs might have been weaker than ogres, but compared with humans, they possessed extraordinary strength.

"Krahahaha! Why are you thinking so deeply on such a wonderful day, Karath?" While Karath planned for the future, Grild approached and placed a heavy hand upon his shoulder.

"Karath is simply overwhelmed with joy, Chief."

"So that is the reason. Krahahaha! Excellent! Today, we feast! We shall fill our stomachs with ogre meat!"

"Krahahaha!"

"Hahahaha!"

"Karath!" Thud!

"Karath!" Thud! The tribespeople began chanting Karath's name once more, and the celebration naturally began. In a primitive settlement, a festival did not involve anything especially elaborate. The warriors laughed together and shouted loudly. The children ran around in excitement despite barely understanding what had happened. The women began butchering the ogre and preparing meat for the warriors who had fought it. The tribe continued laughing and celebrating for some time.

"Karath!" Gerina called his name as she approached from the butchered corpse. A massive lump dripped blood from her hands. Karath stared at it in silence. There was no need to ask what she carried. It was the ogre's heart.

"You are the hero of today's feast, Karath! Show everyone how bravely you devour the ogre!" For some reason, Gerina seemed especially overwhelmed by orcish pride today. She thrust the blood-soaked organ toward him and raised her voice.

"Oooooh!"

"Karath!"

"Karath!" Every orc in the settlement turned toward him and resumed chanting. A single thought appeared inside Karath's mind. He was in trouble. As mentioned before, Karath did not enjoy raw meat. During his human life, Arnold had occasionally eaten cooked blood sausage or organ meat, but those dishes had been thoroughly prepared. He wanted nothing to do with a blood-covered heart that looked ready to begin beating again.

Until now, whenever someone gave him the heart of a monster, he had quietly moved into a corner and fed it to Buddy. Buddy was currently staring at the ogre's heart with the gaze of a starving beast. Drool poured from his mouth like one of Pavlov's dogs. Unfortunately, with the entire tribe watching, Karath could not hand it to the wolf. Trapped on every side, his mind began working as quickly as it had during the ogre hunt. Then an idea came to him.

"The heart of the prey belongs to the warrior who accomplished the greatest feat during the hunt!"

"Exactly!"

"That is right!"

"Karath!"

"Karath!" Karath lifted the heart as he shouted. The tribespeople agreed enthusiastically and continued chanting his name, clearly urging him to eat it at once.

"But Karath was not the warrior who accomplished the greatest feat during today's hunt." The atmosphere across the settlement instantly became cold.

"How could delivering the final strike alone be considered the greatest contribution? Karath could only kill the ogre because every warrior fought together, weakened it, and held its attention." With the entire gathering silenced, Karath continued before anyone could object.

"That means the greatest contribution belongs to the warriors who fought beside Karath. Among them, one warrior placed himself in the greatest danger and drew the ogre's attention without concern for his own body." Karath turned and held the heart toward Gwein.

"Uncle Gwein accomplished the greatest feat!" Gwein had been the warrior whose left arm was destroyed by the ogre during the battle at the first pit. Orc blood had allowed him to continue shouting defiantly even after his bones were crushed. Now his arm rested inside a splint, and he looked to be in considerable pain. The fact that he still came outside to celebrate with the tribe was impressive in itself. Gwein stared at Karath in shock. He clearly had not expected this outcome.

For a moment, the surprise even made him forget his pain, and the tension disappeared from his face.

"Krahahaha! Thank you! Thank you, Karath!" Laughing as though his arm no longer hurt, Gwein extended his healthy right hand and accepted the ogre's heart. The value of a gift depended not upon what the giver desired, but upon what the recipient treasured. To the orcs, the heart of a powerful monster represented both the highest honor and the greatest medicine. At least, it did for every orc except Karath. Today, Karath had given Gwein the most valuable reward he could offer.

The warrior had been injured during a battle fought under Karath's command. Naturally, Karath needed to compensate him properly. Benefits and support for injured employees were important. He absolutely had not surrendered the heart merely because he did not want to eat it.

"Karath has given the heart to me, but I know who truly accomplished the greatest feat today!" Gwein raised his voice with such force that no one would have believed him injured.

"Karath gave every warrior credit for this victory! Today, I will accept this heart as the representative of all the warriors who fought beside him! This celebration belongs to the entire Bloodclaw Tribe!" Then Gwein bit into the ogre's heart and began chewing with great enthusiasm.

"Krahahaha!"

"Excellent!" Inspired by the sight, the tribespeople erupted into even louder celebration.

"Woof! Woof!" Amid the cheerful noise, only Buddy's cries sounded sorrowful.