1

THE SHIWANASHI FOREST

The Shiwanashi Forest.

It was located southwest of the city of Krassel, on the other side of orc country, which was sandwiched between them.

Save for the giant tree that had given the forest its name, there was nothing too remarkable about it.

But to Bash, the entire forest was bursting with memories.

During the war, the Shiwanashi Forest had been the site of many a pitched and bloody battle.

This land, which was the dominion of one of the finest orc clans, was the orcs’ last line of defense when it came to protecting their homeland.

Should this area have fallen to enemy hands, the orcs would have lost their ability to coordinate and correspond with their fairy allies to the north.

Knowing this, the elves attacked this region relentlessly, but they were no match for the combination of the orc and fairy forces.

Bash himself had fought battles in this forest on many occasions. During the war, he had become accustomed to every tree and root—and could probably have made his way through blindfolded, even now.

Thanks largely to Bash’s efforts, the orcs had been able to hold the forest to the end of the war. But this victory had not been without considerable sacrifice. The chief of the Shiwanashi Forest clan was killed, and almost every single stronghold had been burned to the ground.

But the forest remained in orc hands to the very end.

If it had been taken, the orcs and the fairies might both have been unable to hold out until the end of the war. It could have spelled annihilation for both races.

But war is always cruel—and particularly so to the losers.

After the hostilities had finally ceased, the orcs had to stand by and watch as the forest they had shed so much blood to protect was handed over to the elves.

To add insult to injury, over 60 percent of the orcish woodland became the dominion of the elves as well. Another 20 percent was taken by the humans, leaving the orcs with only a mere 20 percent of their own land to eke out a living upon.

As an added bit of cruel irony, the remaining land actually did prove to be enough for the orcs, since many of the thirty clans’ numbers had been decimated by the fighting.

“The old stomping grounds! It feels like no time has passed at all…”

“I know what you mean, Boss.”

Bash took large strides forward, heading for the occupied territory of the old orcish forest.

Essentially, traveling along this route meant returning, even briefly, to the old orc country. But it couldn’t be helped. Bash’s destination lay beyond.

“Boss! I knew I recognized this spot! This is where you holed up when you were injured, remember?”

Zell pointed to the opening of a cave.

It was more of a hole really, the sort of place that would be perfect for a hibernating bear to curl up in for the winter. Bash had crawled inside to conceal himself from enemy view while he recovered from a grievous injury sustained in battle.

“How could I forget? If you hadn’t come along, that would have been the end for me.”

“D’aww, come on, Boss. A little scratch like that wouldn’t have killed ya! You’re made of sterner stuff!”

But it had been winter at the time. And a bear had indeed been inside the hole.

Yet despite his injuries, Bash had no trouble swiftly killing the bear. Its meat provided him vital sustenance, and its pelt kept him warm as he recovered. By smearing himself with the beast’s waste, he was also able to completely mask his scent, keeping him safe from trackers. The elves passed him by, mistaking Bash’s stench and slightly exposed furry back for that of a common bear. But Bash had indeed been grievously injured, and he had lost a lot of blood. Even worse, he lost track of Zell during the fighting and was completely alone. Death would have come for him eventually, if he had remained in that state.

If his loyal friend Zell hadn’t searched every nook and cranny of the forest for him, eventually discovering him in the hole, then the tale of the Orc Hero Bash would have come to a premature conclusion.

“Shouldn’t be too much farther now.”

Bash muttered under his breath as he pushed aside several branches. He could already see the glittering river up ahead.

It was about sixty-five feet across, with fast-flowing waters.

The Unmet River marked the border between the human and elf countries. Once they reached the other side, they would be in Shiwanashi Forest proper, dominion of the elves.

The river flowed north, where it joined up with the Barg River tributary.

Everything between the Unmet River and the Barg River was residual orc territory.

“In we go.”

Without hesitation, Bash stepped foot into the swirling river water.

Here, the Unmet River was filled with sandbars, and the water was shallow enough in places for travelers to walk across.

During the war, this crossing spot had been an orcish secret, but no longer. Lizardmen topographers had canvassed the land after the war, mapped out the entire river network, and published the maps for purchase by anyone who cared to buy one.

Still, the way down to this part of the river was tricky and known to few.

Bash, of course, was one of the few.

The orc began splashing and tromping his way through the shallows, in pursuit of the opposite bank, when…

“Huh? Boss, you’re really crossing here?”

Zell’s question gave the orc pause.

“…What’s wrong with crossing here?”

“I mean… There’s nothing wrong with it exactly…”

In this postwar era, each country was striving to get ahead after centuries of crippling conflict.

There was no longer any animosity between countries, and none would even think to invade another.

The elf race was no exception. Sure, there had been some bruised egos and harsh feelings toward the orcs immediately after the cessation of hostilities. But once it became clear that the orcs would not put up any further retaliation, the elves abandoned the practice of strictly patrolling their borders altogether.

Well, perhaps altogether isn’t quite accurate. Even now, the elves kept an eye on things, just to make sure no rogue orcs were attempting to enter their land.

The Unmet River served as a natural border between the orcs and the humans.

The humans and the elves had long been friendly, and both were blessed with rich and prosperous lands. They hardly bothered monitoring the human border, focusing their guards on the orcs instead.

Bash and Zell would be able to enter Shiwanashi Forest undetected, though. Probably.

“We have to enter by the front gate! We can’t just sneak in from the side entrance! It would be the height of bad manners!”

“…Are you sure?”

“Sure I’m sure!!!”

Despite how lightly manned the elf border was, it was still a border. And even now, the elves preferred to know when orcs entered their country.

And why would someone circumnavigate such a border anyway, unless they were seeking to enter elf lands with nefarious intent?

“I see. Then, what should we do?”

During the course of his life so far, Bash had never really entered a place by its proper entrance. The custom was unfamiliar to him.

He had always taken the hidden paths, the animal trails, the sneaky backdoor routes.

His attempt to cross the river and avoid detection was pure muscle memory left over from a lifetime of war.

“If we head south a little, there’s a bridge, see? We can use that to cross.”

“Whatever you say.”

Bash nodded and changed direction, heading downriver.

If Zell said so, then it must be the right thing to do.

“…Wow, this place sure has changed, hasn’t it?”

After walking in silence for a while, Zell piped up again.

Bash lifted his head and looked around.

The thick canopy of dark-green trees. The clear, fast-running river. The sound of trickling water and rustling foliage.

It was a fine spot. The perfect place for a bit of fishing, followed by an afternoon nap on the shore.

“It’s changed, all right.”

The Unmet River Bash knew had been nothing like this.

The river had been dammed up during wartime to keep the lizardmen reinforcements at bay, and the river itself was less than half as wide then as it was now. The area around the dam had seen much fighting, and the water that flowed from that point had been dark and brackish with mud and blood. Bodies floated along at regular intervals.

The surrounding trees had also been burned and destroyed by the ravages of war, leaving blackened husks.

The smoky, suffocating air had been filled with the roaring of orcish war cries, the chanting of elven spells, the booming of explosives, and the clanging of steel against steel.

The gentle sounds of the forest and the trickling river had been completely drowned out by the din.

“It has changed…but it’s simply gone back to how it was always meant to be.”

“Ah, how poetic you are all of a sudden, Boss! But you’re completely right! The forest was always meant to be peaceful and soothing like this! It is precisely as it should be! Thick trees with rustling green foliage, pristine rivers of sparkling water, beautiful flowery meadows, with the sun shining down from the heavens! Flitting and zooming around a forest like this makes me feel so at peace!”

“Hmm. You sounded almost like a typical fairy just now, Zell.”

“Ack! No, no, no, Boss! I am no ordinary fairy! I am an outlier among fairies, a pioneer of my race! The shiniest and brightest example of a fairy to ever be found in all of fairykind! I put the fair in fairy! I put the flair in flair… Uh… Well, never mind that! Although, I suppose I’m only here because I got bored of the fae life…”

“Snuff, snuff… Hmm?”

While Zell was babbling, Bash sniffed the air. A curious scent had entered his nostrils.

It was the smell of meat.

But not ordinary meat. No, this scent was very familiar to Bash—and quite unpleasant, at that.

It was the scent of rotting flesh.

Meat so rotten as to be completely inedible, an affront to the senses.

All orcs have strong stomachs and can digest rotten carrion from time to time when there is no alternative.

But there is one type of meat orcs never eat: the meat of sentient beings.

This includes orc flesh, of course, as orcs are not cannibals. But it also extends to the other sentient races of the world.

Even orcs have an understanding of ethics. It is true that before the war, they consumed the flesh of other races. But after fighting against them for so many years, the orcs began to think of their foes as beings worthy of respect, just as they themselves were.

“…”

Bash cast his gaze across the river’s breadth, where something could be seen squirming on the far shore.

It was an amalgamation of flesh that was mostly brown, with white-and-purple marbling. It was so necrotic that it looked like it was about to start sloughing off the bone, but its shape was surprisingly well-preserved.

It was in the shape of a person.

A mass of rotten flesh, in humanoid form.

“That’s a zombie.”

“A zombie, yes.”

The zombie looked to Bash, a red glow flaming in its eye sockets. Then it began to shamble into the river.

It was making its way straight toward Bash.

For some reason, zombies abhor the living. They attack anything that draws breath in an attempt to steal away their life force. None knew why. Was it because they held a grudge against the living? Or was it because the Lord of the Dead bid them do so…?

Now the zombie was homing in on Bash, compelled mindlessly by whatever forces guided it.

But the current was too strong. The zombie stumbled and fell into the water before being swept off downstream.

“Looks like we need to watch out for zombies in this area.”

“So it would seem.”

After the war, and during the war, too, undead beings started popping up all over the place.

Wherever battles were fought, zombies and reanimated skeletons soon appeared. Many theorized that the bodies of fallen soldiers were compelled to reanimate by some mysterious force, whether because of unfinished business or out of resentment for their own slaying.

The soldiers and warriors went bravely into battle—and perished.

They marched into battle believing that death was not an option. But still, it took them.

How could they reconcile themselves to such a fate? Their souls burned with rage, and they could not accept death. Many rose again as members of the undead.

And the Shiwanashi Forest had seen much death in war.

That the forest could harbor zombies came as no great surprise.

Nor was the sight of zombies a rare one.

The orc country, too, had seen its share of zombies and roaming skeletons.

The reanimated corpses were not only those of orcs. Many belonged to the human and elf races who had perished fighting the orcs on their own soil as well.

In fairy country, there were also sightings of the walking corpses of humans and elves.

And zombie sightings were often reported in the countries of the humans and the elves themselves.

But there was never a single reported sighting of a zombie fairy.

Fairies live carefree lives in tune with nature and the natural order of things. They generally had no unfinished business after death.

“Let’s keep moving.”

“You got it, Boss.”

And so Bash and Zell paid little mind to the appearance of the zombie they had spotted on the riverbank, and they pressed on to elf country.

The bridge that served as the border checkpoint was a new one, having been constructed only two years prior.

In honor of it connecting the lands of the humans and the elves, it was christened Elman Bridge.

It would serve as a monument to celebrate the friendship between humans and elves, in the hopes of a continued alliance between the two countries.

This landmark bridge was of a sturdy stone construction, and it was wide enough for two horse-drawn carriages to pass in opposite directions.

With trade booming between the elves and humans, at least once an hour the bridge was used by traders either coming or going in their horse-drawn carts.

Once every single hour. Yes, once an hour isn’t very often in the grand scheme of things. But with the current economy still struggling after the war, business was comparatively flourishing between these two lands.

And with only one cart expected per hour, the border was very lightly manned. Only two elves were posted on guard duty.

It makes sense that import taxes should be imposed on imported goods, but the Alliance of Four Races still hadn’t worked out the particulars of bureaucratic matters like that.

The war had been such a long one, and few could remember how things used to be done in the prewar era. As a result, no one was quite sure how best to move ahead in this new, peaceful world.

Naturally, in wartime, no one was ever slapped with import taxes or tariffs when importing goods to their allies.

If such taxes had existed, the poorer races such as the beastkin would have crumpled under the expense.

But they’d managed this far without taxes. Surely, appropriate legislation would be drafted at some point in the future, once the situation required it.

Yes, indeed, the border between the human and elf countries was very loosely controlled, what with how friendly the two nations were, and…

“Hey, you! Stop right there! You’re an orc; that’s what you are! What brings you here? What were you doing in human country?! Speak!!!”

Ah, but the welcome the elves extended to their closest allies, the humans, didn’t apply to the other races. The members of the Coalition of Seven Races had been the enemies of the elves during the war, and the old war wounds ran deep. For their extreme brutality during the conflict, the elves held the deepest of grudges toward the orcs and the succubi in particular.

And the flames of these old prejudices were only fanned by the appearance of dangerous rogue orcs who sometimes crossed over from orc lands.

Lawless and vicious, the rogue orcs caused trouble in every land they set foot in.

Now Bash found himself on the wrong end of two pairs of sharp, primed arrows, nocked and drawn back against the bowstrings of the two guard elves.

“My name is Bash. I am on a quest, in search of…something. The human General Houston told me that I may find what I seek here. I’ve journeyed here for that reason.”

“Bash? General Houston…?”

The two guard elves glared suspiciously at Bash.

They must have been quite young. Perhaps they hadn’t been old enough to take part in the war while it was still going on. Perhaps they had only been conscripted after the war. Because if they had seen active duty, they would have known Bash’s name immediately and would have already been trembling in their boots. No, if they had seen active duty, they would have known Bash on sight and would have never allowed him to get this close in the first place.

The elves who were seasoned veterans of war had a knack for disguising themselves among the trees, blending in to be completely invisible to an enemy’s detection. From the safety of their camouflaged position, they would question any intruders, with the implication being that they could skewer the potential enemy with arrows if they put so much as a toe out of line.

But these elves had not done that. That alone was proof that they were nothing but rookies.

“…Did we get any intel like that?”

“No, we’ve heard nothing from the humans about any orcs coming this way.”

“Oh well, maybe he’s just a random traveler, then? Not an official emissary?”

“So then… Should we let him through?”

“But we were warned not to let any rogue orcs in. What if he’s one of them?”

“He could be. We don’t know what rogue orcs look like, do we?”

The two elf guards were muttering back and forth, unsure how to proceed. Bash’s gentlemanly manners had caught them off guard.

If he was a rogue orc, he surely would have attacked them the minute they stopped him from crossing.

Either that or he would have come running across the bridge bellowing war cries and attacked them without any provocation at all.

But Bash had done neither, which made it hard to believe he could be one of those dangerous rogue orcs. Still, it was always possible that the orc was lying. Putting on an act. It was impossible to tell.

“Excuse me, fellas! Let me assure you, my Boss here is no rogue orc!”

It was Zell who broke the silence, fluttering forward.

Then, swooping in gentle circles in the air in front of the two guards, Zell launched into an impassioned monologue.

“Be honored, be humbled, be awed, young elflings, for you are in the presence of the exalted Orc Hero Bash! The jewel of the orc army, a decorated war veteran, loved and respected by his own, and feared by countless others! He is a traveler on a noble mission, by express permission of the Orc King himself, of course! Why, if you fools really think this prime specimen is what passes for a rogue orc, then you have insulted not only him but all of orckind! Now kindly step aside and clear the way for the sublime, the stupendous, the superb, the supreme…Bash!”

Finishing with a flourish, Zell snapped their tiny fairy fingers imperiously in front of the elf guards’ faces.

Stupendous? Superb? Supreme? The two elves frowned. Zell’s speech was long-winded, nonsensical, fanatical, and brought to mind the droning monologues of the elf elders who never missed an opportunity to blather on about days past.

“Do you know the guy?”

“Of course I don’t know him! I don’t know any famous orcs! This fairy’s probably lying anyway.”

“It does sound kind of suspicious.”

“Right, right, totally suspicious. Plus, everyone knows you can’t trust fairies.”

The elves have a saying.

“A fairy’s guidance is a fool’s dance.”

Once, there was a young elf traveler.

In the midst of his journey, he realized his canteen had a hole in the bottom.

He quickly stopped up the hole, but the water had already leaked out.

He was soon parched with thirst—and delirious from dehydration. He blundered into the forest in search of water. Then a fairy appeared and spoke to him.

“This way, this way, good man! Fresh water over here! And plenty of it! Slake your thirst! It’s clean and sweet and good!”

The elf traveler believed the fairy and followed excitedly in its path.

It was just as the fairy promised. There was a clean pond in a clearing. The elf traveler plunged into the water with delight.

But immediately he began to scream. In his haste, he had failed to notice the steam rising from the water’s surface. It was not a cool, fresh pond, at all, but a bubbling hot spring.

The fairy hovered above the elf, gazed down at his scalded, incredulous red face, and laughed and laughed and laughed.

Fairies have a habit of telling lies of omission and twisting the facts to mislead people for their own amusement. This elf fable serves to warn of exactly that.

But the saying, and the telling of the fable, had only recently come into widespread use.

During the war, the elves were far too busy fighting to care for fairy quirks.

Then, during the fighting, the trickster nature of the fairies became apparent as many a soldier was led right into a fairy trap. Thus, the custom of mistrusting fairies was born.

Having heard the tales, the two elves made no effort to clear the path.

“So…you will not permit us to enter?”

“Nope! Dirty orcs like you don’t get to enjoy unfettered access to our beautiful country, you know!”

“Hmm…”

Now Bash was at a loss.

If he had come to the elf border on his travels randomly, he would have simply shrugged at this point and chosen another direction. But after hearing what he had heard in human country, he couldn’t bear to turn away.

After all, he had heard from noble Houston the Pig Slayer himself that this was where he ought to continue his quest.

Why, even now, Bash’s future bride may have been awaiting him in the Shiwanashi Forest. A beautiful elf bride.

No, Bash had his mission. He had his purpose. He could not turn back now.

His mission was a personal one, of course. He was not here for king and country, but for his own goals.

He had no right to force his way through the checkpoint.

But Bash had the moral high ground, surely. The elves had no right to refuse him access, simply on account of his being an orc. The orcs and the elves had signed a treaty, after all. And nowhere did it stipulate that elves had the right to refuse an orc access to their land.

No, Bash was quite sure that he was in the right.

“Hey! Morons! Quit blockin’ the road!!!”

Just then, a single horse carriage came clattering and rolling this way.

It was heading to the elf border and had clearly come from human country.

The carriage creaked to a stop right behind Bash, and the man in the driver’s seat glared down at them. It was he who had just bellowed.

The man had long, silky golden hair and pointy ears. He was an elf himself. Judging by the uniform, which was similar to the border guards’, he was a member of the Elven Defense Force, or EDF.

“My bad. I asked for permission to enter the country, but I am being denied.”

“Hmm? Hey, you’re an orc!”

The driver peered down at Bash, his brow furrowed with puzzlement.

Then he lifted his head, eyes narrowing and focusing on the two guards.

It looked as though he’d come to the conclusion that it would be better to speak to his compatriots about the issue rather than converse with this unknown orc.

“What’s going on? Explain yourselves!”

“…Yessir!”

It appeared as though the driver of the carriage outranked the two guards.

They snapped quickly to attention and began explaining the situation.

An orc showed up out of nowhere and demanded access to the elf land, claiming he was in search of something.

And he had a highly suspicious fairy with him.

He was claiming to be a simple traveler, not a rogue orc. But his story reeked of subterfuge, and so the two guards had decided to deny him access. Just to be on the safe side.

“You there, Orc. Is all this true?”

“It is true that I am no rogue orc.”

“Do you swear to it?”

“I swear on the name of the mighty Orc King, Nemesis.”

The driver gasped.

He knew what it meant for an orc to swear on the Orc King’s name.

Only the greatest of warriors, a great warlord or chieftain, could swear upon the king’s name. And if he was found to be lying, it would be considered treason…punishable by death.

In other words, the orc standing before him now must be a person of great importance in orcish society. If he was traveling outside of his own country’s borders, that must mean he was doing so under the express orders of the Orc King himself.

But that raised another question.

What was this exalted orc emissary doing here?

He said he was in search of something. What could it be?

Without finding that out first, there was no way they could permit the orc free passage into elf territory.

“Oh, just let him in. What’s the big deal anyway?”

But it was not the driver who spoke those words.

No, the voice came from inside the carriage itself.

It was a woman’s voice.

“The war’s over, isn’t it? And the orcs have sworn an oath, same as the rest of us. Yes, yes, there are always a few rogue orcs roaming about. But this one says he’s got the blessing of the Orc King. So he’s just like another traveler, isn’t he? There’s no need to be such bullies, interrogating him like that!”

Bash’s heart skipped a beat. The stranger’s assistance was unexpected.

The sweet sound of lovely feminine elf voices had always charmed the orcs, and Bash was no exception.

“But, Lady Sonia, I’ve never heard of an orc traveling alone…”

“It’s been three years since the war ended! Even orcs have the right to sightsee when the mood strikes them! And if Nemesis himself has sanctioned it, then he can’t be one of the rogue ones, can he?”

“But he has no official documents. Can we really trust his word?”

“…ExCUSE me? You think orcs are in the habit of just bandying around the name of their king? You do realize what it means for an orc to swear on the name Nemesis, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, Lady Sonia; only there are many rogue, outcast orcs who spit on the name of the Orc King… He might be making the whole thing up to suit his own nefarious objectives!”

“Yes, yes, but use your brain! If an orc really wanted to enter our lands for ‘nefarious’ aims, he’d enter sneakily by crossing the Unmet River. That’s how all the other rogue orcs have tried it, see? But this one came right up to the checkpoint and politely asked to come in. Said he’s got the blessing of the Orc King himself! And he mentioned General Houston! You do know General Houston, don’t you? Ol’ Pig Slayer? If he was planning to sweet-talk his way in, he’d have name-dropped someone much more impressive than that!”

“Hmm, I see, I see… Well, if you insist, Lady Sonia, then… You two! Open the gates!”

The driver barked imperiously at the two elf guards, who quickly put away their bows and arrows and swept the gates open with a flourish, gesturing for them all to pass through.

The driver sniffed, before lashing the horses with the reins and urging them forward.

The carriage began to roll past Bash and Zell, clattering its way across the bridge. Bash stepped aside to give it room, looking up at the window.

“Many thanks.”

He spoke only these two words, in his usual gruff sort of voice.

But it wasn’t the driver who responded.

“Heh, anytime! We’re in an age of peace, after all!”

A face appeared in the open window. A beautiful elven face.

She had a high, regal nose, slanted blue eyes, a neat chin, and pointed ears. Her face was doll-like, and her bosom was modest in size, a key characteristic of elf women.

She looked to be some variety of mage. She wore a wide-brimmed hat on top of her silken golden hair. And she was clad in a dark-green robe, a very elflike look.

“Anyway, no worries! I’m someone of some significance myself, despite not looking like it, so we have that in common. Helping you out was the least I could— Ack!!!”

For some reason, as the woman laid eyes on Bash’s green orcish face, she jerked in surprise.

Unfortunately, this caused the top of her head to make contact with the window frame. There was a mighty thunk, and the beautiful elf woman fell backward into the carriage, emitting a frog-like croak as she disappeared from sight.

There came another, more muted thud a second later, presumably the sound of her body hitting the carriage floor. But just at that moment, the wheels began rattling over some loose pebbles, and the clattering sound filled the air, leaving the driver oblivious to the plight of his passenger.

The woman had clearly passed out cold on the carriage floor, but no one else seemed to have noticed.

Bash probably would have noticed, if he was in his right mind.

But his head was deep in the clouds.

“How…beautiful…”

It had been so long since he last laid eyes on a female elf.

And never could he remember seeing one as beautiful as she. She was the very embodiment of elven female perfection, and Bash was smitten at first sight.

Elf women, in truth, were very beautiful indeed.

Until very recently, the elf race had been the enemy, and Bash hadn’t been looking at the female warrior elves in that way. But now, with postwar clarity, Bash had to admit that elven female features were exactly his type. Their toned bodies and dainty demeanors set them apart from the humans, who trended toward curvier builds, even among the most beautiful examples of that race.

Yes, elf women were stunning, sharp, and poised, like the finest steel blades.

Bash was partial to the human softness, too, of course. But in terms of pure visual beauty, he’d go for an elf every time.

Houston had been right on the money, after all.

Bash’s ideal bride was here in elf country. No doubt about it.

“Hmm? Boss, I think I’ve seen that elf somewhere before…”

Zell arched an eyebrow, but Bash merely blinked, his attention elsewhere.

He was, in fact, already hurrying toward the town. He wanted to get cozy with a willing elf woman as soon as he possibly could.