4

THE GREAT EAGLE’S PERCH

“The Great Eagle’s Perch.”

The moment Bash stepped into the tavern, he felt as though he’d entered a gambling den or some other kind of questionable establishment.

For a pub, a place of drunken merriment, the atmosphere was heavy and tense, almost stifling. The patrons all seemed to be sizing each other up.

It wasn’t threatening, exactly. It was more like that feeling you get in the early stages of a battle, when both sides are trying to measure the strength of their enemy before striking.

“Is that an orc? I heard that a lone orc was seen entering town… Welcome, Orc.”

The barkeep nodded to Bash, gesturing that he should take any available seat.

There was a bar but no barstools. The only seating available was at the tables.

Bash hesitated for a moment, unsure where to sit. Then he figured it out. Men were seated along the exterior wall of the tavern, with women on the opposite side.

Bash took a seat on the men’s side.

The female elf warrior at the opposite side of the table had a mean stare.

She had short hair cut into a bob, with the ends curled under.

She was wearing a look of such malice that it could strike down a small human, perhaps a child, without her ever laying a hand on them. And she had a distinctive diagonal-shaped scar running across her face.

Her dress was fairly revealing, but Bash could tell from just one look that she had been a prominent soldier during the war.

Perhaps she had been the elven equivalent of an orc chief or held an even higher rank.

As soon as Bash sat down, the woman’s eyes went wide. Then she caught sight of Bash’s new clothes. Quickly, she made eye contact with a woman sitting to her side, before nodding firmly.

“Well, hello there! You’re a fine figure of a man, aren’t you? Nice to meet you; my name’s Henbit!”

Her voice brought to mind a ferocious tiger doing a desperate impression of an adorable kitten.

Bash wasn’t sure how comfortable he was making small talk with women this way. He felt like he was exposed in the field, with the enemy sniffing out his scent. He always preferred to strike first. But in front of a woman, he wasn’t sure how to act.

It was a feeling he’d never experienced before… Or was it?

Feeling very out of his element, Bash nonetheless decided to plunge ahead and try to make conversation.

“So then, what’s your name, Mr. Orc?”

“Bash.”

“Ooh, Bash! What a splendid name! You orcs all have such wonderful names, poor Henbit is all in a tizzy!”

“Um… Okay.”

Her shrieked voice was so high-pitched that Bash felt the beginnings of a headache. And he was starting to feel quite dizzy as well.

Was he under some sort of spell?

“Hmm, I see scars. So you were in the war, were you? Where did you fight?”

“All over. Near the end of the war, I spent most of my time in this region. I fought to protect our land.”

“I see, I see! Well, what a silly question that was! You must think I’m a total airhead!”

“Where did you fight?”

“Oh, I was part of the team that went and invaded the succubus country! The Thirty-Second Division! So that’s why I don’t know much about the orcs, you see— Gack!”

Henbit suddenly started coughing.

After quickly sipping her glass of water, she said “Ahem!” loudly a few times, to test her voice. Then she gazed at Bash with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“And this is the first time I’ve heard of an orc traveling to the elf country. I’m dying to know all about you! What brings you to our forest?”

“Um… I’m looking for something. Although, to be more accurate…”

But before he could finish his sentence, Henbit heaved herself across the table and pressed a finger to Bash’s lips.

Silencing him.

“You don’t even have to say it. I already know. You’re thinking about marriage, aren’t you? That’s why you’re here.”

“…Yeah.”

Bash clamped his lips shut, embarrassed to have been so easily read.

Although when he thought about it, his mere presence in this tavern was an obvious sign that he was in the marriage market.

And it’s not like he was trying to hide it, exactly. His status as a virgin, though—he’d die before he let that little detail slip out.

“But you know…”

Henbit tipped her head to one side in an approximation of feminine thoughtfulness, but she did it so vigorously that it looked like her neck was about to snap.

“…the thing about widdle ol’ Henbit is that she doesn’t want to become someone’s breeding slave. I mean, she’s not opposed to having children. It’s just that I wanna have a true elven union, marrying one man and staying in love with him for all my days!”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got status, back in my country. If you become my wife, you won’t be treated as a breeding slave. I give you my word.”

Status.

The use of this term made Henbit’s eyes sparkle.

“Ohhh, is that right? So, Mr. Bash, you have some renown back in the land of the orcs, is that what you’re saying? What was your rank? Great chief? War chief?”

“I was just a warrior. Only…”

“Just a warrior? Pah!”

Henbit spat with disgust at the mention of Bash’s rank.

Also, her voice dropped several octaves in an instant and became gravelly and rough, like that of an uncouth soldier.

It wasn’t exactly a pleasant voice, but it came as something of a relief to Bash.

A rough, uncouth soldier he could deal with. It was the artifice…her whole “tiger posing as a playful kitten” gimmick that he couldn’t stomach.

So she was a true tiger, after all. Bash could make small talk with a tiger.

“During the war, my rank was that of a warrior, yes, but I achieved many…”

“I don’t wanna hear it, you orcish braggart! You rich?”

“What?”

“Did I stutter? How much are you worth?”

“Money? I don’t… I don’t have any money.”

In truth, Bash was one of the richest men in the orc kingdom.

Back in his homeland, Bash wanted for nothing.

But the orcs mostly dealt with trade and barter. They didn’t handle currency.

Except for when they were trading with other countries, the orcs lived their daily lives without ever handling coins or even thinking about physical money at all.

But Henbit seemed unable to comprehend the existence of a society without money.

“No money? I’m switching seats!”

Heaving a disgusted sigh, Henbit scoffed at Bash before getting out of her seat and stomping off across the tavern.

“…?”

Bash had no idea what had just happened.

He waited for Henbit to return, but she took a seat at another table and started talking to a different man.

“Zell… What now?”

Bash turned to look at Zell.

But Zell was currently glugging down a large glass of mead and was already three sheets to the wind.

“So I says to ’im, I says… Ya need red flowers for flower divination! And then guess what ’e says? ’e says which red flowers?! There’s tons of red flowers! Can you believe it? Hic! I mean, when I says red flowers, it’s obvious what I mean! Don’t you think so, Boss?”

Zell was gesticulating wildly while addressing a saltshaker.

The fairy would be no help to him in this state.

What do I do?

Should he follow Henbit? Or…

“Hi! ’Sup! Evening, Mr. Orc! I’m Lilac! We don’t often see orcs around these parts, so I just had to come over and introduce myself!”

Another elf. This one looked like she could take on a gryphon without breaking a sweat.

But her voice was much higher and squeakier than a gryphon’s.

“Bash.”

“Can we just cut to the chase, Mr. Bash? Do you own any land?”

Bash would forget about the last woman. This one was his new target.

Bash shook his head slightly, refocusing on the woman in front of him.

“I don’t own any land. Orcish territory is—”

“Ah, in that case, I’m good. See ya!”

With a sudden look of disinterest in her eyes, Lilac waved her hand at Bash dismissively and disappeared.

It was so quick.

So quick that Bash could almost still see a faint Lilac-shaped afterimage sitting across the table, superimposed on his retinas.

What was her deal?

But before Bash could give the interaction any real thought, the next woman sat down.

“Good evening! My name’s Peace Lily! I hope you don’t mind me joining you, Mr. Orc!”

“Um, no, not at all…”

Bash didn’t have any time for confusion. All he could do was sit tight as Peace Lily now interrogated him—and try to answer her questions as best he could…

After that, Bash chatted with a string of ladies, one after the other.

Sounds like heaven, right? Well, not quite.

The elf ladies grilled Bash on all aspects of his private and personal life before inevitably making a hasty exit.

After Bash had met with ten ladies, he finally realized what the setup was here.

Men would sit. Women would question the men. And if a man’s answers didn’t fit her requirements, she would move on to the next man.

That was the system in place at the Great Eagle’s Perch.

The women all asked the same sort of questions. After posing a few of them, they all moved on from Bash.

It looked like Bash wasn’t going to be one of the chosen ones.

As for Bash, well, he would have been happy with any of the women he’d spoken to. So the problem wasn’t with him being too picky.

But this string of failed interviews had made one thing painfully clear, even to a naive man like Bash. The reason why he wasn’t getting anywhere.

It was because of wealth. Or to be more accurate, his lack of it.

The elf women all had their own way of posing questions, but it was obvious that they were all after money. He was asked about titles and lands as well, but mostly what they wanted to know was how thick Bash’s wallet was.

It didn’t do any good, Bash explaining the high status he held back in orc country. When they found out he didn’t have any gold in the bank, so to speak, the elf women would spit in disgust and vanish in a flash. Elf women seemed to be masters of spitting.

After having ten elven beauties vanish on him, Bash soon found himself sitting alone.

It seemed that word had spread among the elf women, and they had warned each other against approaching Bash’s table.

But I thought that the elves weren’t interested in money. Not like the dwarves are. So then, why is it like this?

Bash couldn’t understand it.

Not only did the women stop approaching Bash, but they all started avoiding his eye and began giving off a Don’t talk to me, Orc! vibe that was quite hostile.

At a loss, Bash decided to at least fill his belly with a meal, since he was here.

Bash remembered elven cuisine being bland and consisting mostly of berries and nuts. But since they had started welcoming other cultures, the elves had taken an interest in importing beast flesh and grain and incorporated these ingredients into their cooking.

The seasoning was subtle, as was the elven custom, but an orc would eat pretty much anything without complaint.

As Bash tucked into his meal, fully appreciating the hearty fare, he found his thoughts returning to the question of money once more.

“Why do they want money?”

“What’s that? Why do they want money, you say?”

A man turned to face Bash just then, apparently having overheard the orc muttering to himself.

He was a human man, with an entirely unremarkable appearance.

But Bash immediately noticed his ruddy cheeks and glazed-over expression.

The man tottered drunkenly toward Bash, falling into a clumsy heap in the chair next to the orc’s. Then he threw his arm around Bash’s shoulders as if they were old buddies.

Bash didn’t really mind, but such maltreatment of his person, if witnessed back in the orc country, would have Bash’s admirers up in arms, baying for the human man’s blood.

The man, however, was clearly drunk out of his mind.

“I’ll tell ya, if ya want.”

Without waiting for Bash to respond, the man hiccupped and launched into an explanation.

“Listen here, my orcish friend. All the women you see in this tavern belong to the unit that fought against the succubus army during the war. Well, what’s left of the unit anyway.”

According to the man, the situation was as follows.

After the war, there was a big marriage boom in the elf country.

The rich ones married each other first, aristocrat families setting up their sons and daughters.

But with a surplus of women and hardly any men, it became a buyer’s market for a man looking to wed. The prettiest elf women got snapped up in an instant.

Around this time, a lot of the women from the commoner class got to see how the other half lived for the first time, and it became the dream of every commoner woman to marry up in society.

Then the marriages between commoners started happening.

However, most of these marriages were among people who were already close.

Close, in this context, meant that they were survivors from the same unit or that they were childhood friends who had grown up in the towns together, left behind by parents who had gone to join the war.

The war’s over, the government’s offering cash incentives to those who get married, and everyone else we know is getting hitched! So why don’t we just tie the knot, too? It was like that.

Eventually, the only single ladies left were the ones who had fought against the succubus army.

That unit had been made up almost exclusively of women.

It sounds obvious, right? After all, the succubus race is known for bewitching the hearts of men and driving them into a frenzy of lust, making them easy prey for the feast.

Undeterred by the overwhelming presence of enemy women, the succubus army sought out the units that did have men in them. Then they attacked the men and dragged them away.

Succubi found the flesh of elven men to be the tastiest of all delicacies.

As a result, the elf country was soon facing a serious shortage of men.

Initially, there were six elf women to every four elf men recorded in the census. But that ratio soon changed until there were seven elf women to every three elf men—a severe imbalance.

Then, after the war, the female units who had shouldered the burden of fighting against the succubus army found themselves left on the sidelines. Having come from an almost all-female environment, they didn’t have any male acquaintances to court.

So these women made their way to the Shiwanashi Forest, where many men from other races were said to gather. They began husband hunting in earnest, and one by one, the women with the most agreeable personalities were able to find willing men.

But not all women enjoyed the same success.

The ones who remained had personality problems—or badly disfigured faces.

Those flaws aside, the elf race was still known for its beautiful women.

Men far and wide would kill for an elf bride. Human men more than most.

So these unmarried women still had one final chance. And with the marriage boom going on, it was now or never.

Still, the women couldn’t help feeling angry and resentful.

As a result of the marriage boom, they had been overtaken in the marriage race by the younger, prettier, less psychologically and physically scarred whippersnappers they had to babysit during the war. You might even say their entire predicament could be blamed on these younger, already married women.

Well, the remaining women had had enough of being passed over. They weren’t going to settle. They were going to get what they were worth.

“…But why is it money they want?”

“Duh, it’s obvious! The younger ones all got themselves hitched to rich humans, and now they’re livin’ in the lap of luxury, livin’ the kinda lives that elves of their caliber could have never even dreamed of!”

“Oh, I see.”

“These women won’t be satisfied with any man who’s worth less than the ones their old war buddies have already married. They want an aristocrat or a royal. They want a man who’s got status, money, stability. A man who can allow them to live in comfort for the rest of their days. Not that a man like that would come to a place like this, though. No, those sorts of men could do better than the broads on offer here.”

Bash’s new human friend was apparently penniless as well.

After the war, he found himself with nowhere to live and no hometown to return to. And despite doing quite well on the battlefield, he found himself forcefully retired from the army once the conflict ended and soldiers weren’t needed as much anymore. With little social status to speak of, he now lived in a small, run-down shack and scratched out a living working as a day laborer.

Getting married seemed an impossible dream for a man like him.

He often found himself questioning what exactly it was that he had fought for. And why he had survived to the end of the war, only to be met with a fate like this.

In the depths of despair, he heard a rumor that the elven women were open to marrying men of other races.

He had encountered many a stunning elf woman during the war.

If only he could get one of those women to agree to be his bride. It would change his life. Maybe he would have a warm home to return to, at long last.

And so he had taken the plunge and traveled here, hoping to find a beautiful elf bride of his very own.

“Egh…”

But the reality had been cruel and disappointing.

The elf women who had yet to marry were all gold diggers.

He tried to regale them with tales of his prowess on the battlefield. He assured them that, once married, he would take care of their needs for the rest of his days. But to no avail. They all snorted at him with disgust. Boasting about his wartime deeds was really the final nail in the coffin. Every one of these elven ex-warriors had slain ten times the enemies he had, after all.

“Guh! What a pathetic, insignificant speck of dirt I am…”

Recalling the harsh treatment he’d received from the elf women, the man began to cry.

Bash blinked in alarm, unsure how to handle this grown man who had suddenly begun blubbering like a baby in public.

The man just kept on crying. Between sobs, he took large swigs of his ale.

Then finally, he looked up, bleary-eyed.

He was looking at the elven women who had all been blatantly ignoring Bash.

“Look at them, eh? Just look at those beauties. What I wouldn’t give…”

“…Yeah.”

Bash could understand the man’s sentiments.

Even from across a gloomy bar like this, the elven women’s beauty was radiant.

Shining golden hair, slender limbs. The sharp way they carried themselves. Their well-defined muscles communicated competence and strength.

All right, so their personalities may have suffered from some severe flaws. But if only Bash could claim one for himself, and lie with her every night, he wouldn’t have a single complaint.

“If only I had some money…”

“Yeah, it’s all about money…”

Money.

Money was nothing to Bash. He had been raised in orcish society, where it wasn’t even a consideration.

He had no idea how one went about getting money and no clue how to accumulate enough of it to satisfy an elven woman.

Zell might know. But the fairy was currently splashing around in a large tankard of ale. There was a saltshaker floating in there, too, for some reason. Zell seemed to be trying to wash its back. It was actually kind of cute.

“How much money, though?”

“How much? Um… No idea, to be honest. All I know is that, way back when, rich elf men proposed to their sweethearts with emerald necklaces. Emerald necklaces set in gold. Real works of art! So I guess it takes about that much? Yeah, you gotta have deep pockets for a nice piece of jewelry like that!”

Bash was unaware, but this was an old elven tradition, sparked by a tale.

The tale says that a human man fell in love with a beautiful elf maiden at first sight.

He proposed to her immediately, but the elf woman was prideful and turned him down as a matter of course.

The human man was undeterred. He pursued her doggedly.

Annoyed, the elf woman decided to offer up an impossible condition for winning her hand, to hopefully get rid of the man.

If he could bring her the legendary Greenleaf Emerald, she said, the mythical jewel that was said to exist somewhere unknown in the land, then she would marry him.

The man agreed readily, setting out on a journey around the world in search of the emerald.

Along his travels, he discovered not only the Greenleaf Emerald but many precious gems and jewels besides, with which he had an elaborate necklace made. Then he returned and presented it to his beloved.

Throwing up her hands, secretly delighted, the elf woman acquiesced, and the two were wed. So went the tale.

Most elven women these days dream about being proposed to with an emerald necklace.

There’s no more romantic way to propose in the minds of the elves.

In fact, emerald necklaces were in such high demand that every jeweler in the elf country made sure to keep plenty of them in stock.

“An emerald necklace…”

“Eh, no point stressing about it, though. It’s beyond our reach, penniless as we are.”

“So…what are you planning to do?”

“Me? Hmm. I guess, at the very least, I’ll try my hand at hunting zombies, starting tomorrow.”

“Hunting zombies?”

“Oh, don’t you know? There’s been an outbreak of zombies near town. Nobody knows what’s causing it. But the town council will pay ya for every zombie you slay. You can make decent money that way, if you’re any good at it.”

“You can get money for slaying zombies?”

“Yeah.”

This was useful information indeed.

Bash guessed this man’s plan was to slay enough zombies to accrue enough wealth to buy one of those shiny necklaces.

In actuality, all the man was hoping to do was earn enough money to get through another week. After all, he was flat broke.

“At any rate, I guess you and I are both losers tonight, eh? So let’s drink. I’ve never drunk with an orc before.”

“All right. I’ve never drunk with a human before, either.”

“Oh, shoot. Forgot to introduce myself. The name’s Breeze.”

“Bash.”

As they took stock of each other’s name, both paused for a second, struck by a sudden feeling of déjà vu.

Both recalled hearing the other’s name somewhere before. But after a beat, they each shrugged, deciding to drop it.

They had fought for years during the long war—and survived all the way to the end. Soldiers who distinguished themselves on the battlefield often had their names mentioned far and wide. It was fairly common. Hearing each other’s name before wasn’t so strange.

They were also too drunk to really care about it just then.

“Here’s to the loser men!”

“Here’s to the stunning women of the elf country.”

“Cheers!”

That night, for the first time in a long while, Bash got well and truly sloshed.

“Guh… Egh… Drank way too much…”

A few hours later, Zell awoke with a pounding headache.

Looking around, Zell realized through still-spinning vision that they were in a tavern. Of course. The tavern. That memory was still intact.

Usually when Zell woke up after getting blackout drunk, they would find themselves corked inside a bottle. That happened a lot. But today the fairy seemed to have remained safe and unharmed as they slept off the booze.

Well, of course. Bash was there with them, after all.

Why, they had been taking a bath together right before Zell passed out, had they not?

“Hnng!”

Zell pinched the bridge of their fairy nose and grunted, tensing up.

The fairy’s personal glow intensified for a second, and something cloudy rose from their head, floated up into the air, and dissipated in the gloom.

Fairies could cure their own hangovers with a little magic.

In fact, fairies were skilled at removing poisons and toxins from their own bodies using this trick.

“Now then, where’d the Boss go?”

Zell began looking around for the Orc Hero.

There was a booze-soaked saltshaker lying nearby on the table, goodness knows why.

But the fairy was busy looking for Bash right then and spared the saltshaker no further mind.

“Aha!”

There he was.

Seated at a table in the middle of the tavern, just where Zell recalled seeing him before passing out. He hadn’t moved at all. Bash, too, was deep in his cups, although he didn’t even appear drunk.

“Boss! Did you find a willing lady?”

Zell bobbed questioningly in the air in front of Bash, but the orc merely shook his head.

“No. But I did find out some interesting information.”

“Ha! You, gathering intel, Boss? I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw a pig go flying past the tavern window!”

“I’m perfectly capable of gathering a little intelligence, you know. Of course, I can’t hold a candle to you and your skills.”

“Of course you can, Boss! You’re the boss! Why, look what you’ve managed to achieve while I was lying around in a drunken stupor! But please don’t make a habit of it, Boss… Otherwise, you might find that you don’t need me anymore. And then what will become of me?! I’ll cease to exist! I’ll expire in a puff of fairy dust! I’ve just gotta be needed, Boss! Still, good stuff, eh?”

Zell whistled, clapping Bash’s meaty shoulder with one tiny hand.

The fairy always made sure to bolster Bash’s self-esteem at every opportunity.

Their nickname wasn’t Support Master Zell for nothing.

“So tell me about this info? You got a secret little black book of single, eligible lady elves?”

“No, it’s not a book. But I have discovered what it is these single elf ladies seek. Now, I’m going to obtain this key item for myself and use it to woo one.”

“Aha! So in other words, your attempt to infiltrate the single ladies and discover what makes them tick has borne fruit, eh? Amazing, Boss! So what is it these women desire?”

“Riches.”

“Riches!!!”

This made sense to Zell immediately.

Zell was a fairy. And fairies weren’t particularly interested in things like money.

But some fairies are very interested in riches. There are fairies who obsess over precious metals and gems, entranced by their shine and sparkle.

Zell knew one such treasure-happy fairy, actually.

A gold-hungry fairy, who filled their home wall-to-wall with gold coins and spent all day staring at the pile.

Probably, the elves were a lot like that one friend of Zell’s.

“Well, there’s all kinds of riches, you know. There’s gemstones and precious metals like gold and silver…”

But Bash had a response to this, too.

He had already found out everything he needed to know from the human man, who even now was slumped over one of the tables in a drunken coma.

“As to that… I heard that the first human male who married an elf proposed to her with a shiny gold necklace, one with a huge emerald on it. This showed his worth to the woman.”

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it! So all we need to do is buy a shiny gold necklace, and…”

“…And I can get myself an elf bride!”

Yeah, right.

It was true that most elf women would go weak at the knees if presented with an emerald necklace as a proposal token. After all, what could be more romantic?

But the kind of women who were husband hunting in earnest at spots like the Great Eagle’s Perch were after much greater riches than that represented by a single emerald necklace.

They wanted fine dining, exquisite gowns, a big mansion, social status. They wanted to live like the elite, the stinking rich ones, in comfort and luxury.

Zell clearly didn’t know much about money—or how it worked.

But Zell was just operating on the info Bash had offered up. In the fairy’s tiny brain, a single emerald necklace equaled instant success, the key to their whole quest.

“So then, how are you gonna get the money to buy the necklace, Boss?”

“Mm. About that. Apparently, there’s some kind of outbreak going on, and they need all the help they can get.”

“An outbreak? Of what?”

“Zombies. There’s waves of zombies popping up, and they need people to help wipe them out.”

“Yeah! We saw that zombie on the way here, remember?”

“Apparently you get some money for every zombie you kill.”

“Aha, now it all becomes clear!”

And so the Orc Hero decided to take on a part-time job as a freelance zombie hunter.

Too bad for the zombies. Their lives now came with an imminent expiration date.

Well, to be more accurate, their lives had already expired some time ago.

“All right, let’s get out there and kick some zombie butt! Now, zombies tend to be most active at night, so we should head straight out there, and… No, wait! We must return to the inn first! You’ve got to change out of that nice outfit! No sense getting it covered in mud and zombie goo when you’ve only just bought it, eh?”

“Right! First, we’ll return to the inn!”

Bash and Zell nodded excitedly at each other and then left the tavern just as the owner was closing up shop for the night.

Upon exiting the tavern, the two found that the sun had completely set, and the town was in full darkness.

Still, it was plenty bright enough to see, thanks to the light of the moon high overhead and the magical lamps that were strung up along the streets.

In the past, the town was never so brightly lit.

Elves had perfect night vision, thanks to their magical proficiency. And since they spent much of their time in the deep forest, where it’s as dark as night even during the day, the elves tended to prefer the gloom, even inside the comfort of their own homes. They used no torches, lamps, or even candles.

Elves were creatures of the dark. That’s how the orcs always saw them.

But now Bash was starting to see differently.

The elves actually loved bright lights. Perhaps even more so than the humans did.

They only lived their lives shrouded in darkness as a survival tactic during the war.

Yes, it was the war that had driven many of the shifty behaviors the elves were known for. Now that the war was over, however, the elves were…different. Take the welcome Bash had been given when he came into town, for example. The bloodthirsty elves of wartime would never have been so agreeable.

No, the elves Bash encountered during the war were almost like a different breed.

They were fiercer then. Attacking on all sides, eyes bloodshot, magical spells and swords slicing through the air.

And they had hurled such foul insults and threats at Bash as they attacked.

How the elf race had changed, simply as a result of the cessation of hostilities!

As he thought about the elf race and how different things were now, Bash felt somehow warm inside.

“That’s why I told them…”

“Yes, but…”

“Excuse me?! So you’re saying I’m wrong?!”

His ears suddenly perked up. He could hear people arguing.

As he listened closer, however, he soon realized that rather than arguing, it was more like one of them was whining and complaining about something, and the other was trying to soothe them.

Bash strained his eyes in the direction of the voices.

Then he spotted them—a man and woman walking together.

“What I’m saying is: Why can’t they use their brains and decide for themselves? Right? You agree, don’t you?”

“But, Lady Sonia, you stipulated that all decisions should be run by you first…”

“…Yes… But… I mean, it’s the small, petty things; they should know better than to bother me with those! Especially this late in the evening! They’re like children! Waah, waah, waah! Grow up!!!”

“But, Lady Sonia, you’re the one who said that all order will fall if a unit fails to follow the proper chain of command.”

“Ugh!!!”

The man was wearing an elf military uniform.

The woman was dressed in a dark-green robe and a pointy hat, pulled down low and almost covering her eyes.

Bash wasn’t interested in the woman’s outfit, however.

“Hmm.”

Just then, the woman looked up and noticed Bash.

“…It’s him!”

She stiffened, her hand going straight to the staff she wore tucked in her waistband.

Seeing this, Bash crossed his arms deliberately. In orcish custom, this signaled his clear desire for peace and assured his opponent that he would not fight.

“…”

It was the beautiful elf from earlier.

Bash could never have forgotten her regal nose, her sparkling blue eyes, her dainty chin, and her cute, pointy ears. She was on the smaller side, not short, just proportionately small, and had the tiny bosom characteristic of elven females. Her hair was silky and golden and glimmered in the moonlight.

Yes, this was the beautiful elf noblewoman who had helped Bash get admitted at the border.

The man was the same one who had been her companion then, too.

Illuminated by the moonlight and the mellow glow of the magical lamps, her beauty seemed otherworldly.

Bash was captivated by her face. But that didn’t mean he’d failed to notice something else important, as well.

(Boss! Boss!)

Zell began whispering excitedly into Bash’s ear.

(Check it out, Boss! Look at her head! No flower! She’s single!)

(I noticed!)

Bash was staring at the elf woman’s head.

She wore no white flower in her hair, no white flower to signify that she was taken or engaged.

She was single. This exquisite elf was still on the market.

(What do I do?)

(Just stay cool. Don’t blow it. Be gallant. Thank her for her assistance at the border!)

(Roger that.)

Bash nodded, then bowed deeply in front of the woman, who was watching him with sharp, wary eyes.

“Thank you again for your kind assistance at the border.”

Bash kept his eyes trained on the elf woman even while Zell was whispering rapidly into his ear.

The elf woman had caught that, too. The orc had his arms crossed in a peaceful gesture, but the way he was staring at her told her he was ready to attack at a moment’s notice. Well, she was ready to throw down, too. But at the same time, she felt frozen to the spot.

She couldn’t possibly attack first, after all.

“D-don’t even mention it! We elves have no reason to deny entry to orcs. The war’s over, after all, isn’t it?”

“As the lady says, Mr. Orc.”

Her companion bowed to Bash.

Still, he kept his eyes on Bash the entire time. His gaze was fixed on the orc, in fact.

His whole demeanor told Bash, If you make one wrong move, I’ll kill you where you stand. Bash was used to such looks. He got them all the time.

“Still… There’s one thing I’m curious about!”

Bash’s heart began thumping fast.

“You’re curious? About me?”

“Y-yeah!”

Bash’s heart started thumping even faster.

Bash had never known it to beat so fast, even during the height of the most pitched battles. Bash swallowed hard, the blood rushing audibly in his ears.

Then he briefly made eye contact with Zell.

(I might have a chance here!)

Zell flashed Bash a thumbs-up.

“What is it you’re curious about?”

“Well, I wanna know… What’s your business here?”

“My…business?”

…?!?!

“Y-yeah… I already know who you are, see. You’re the great Orc Hero Bash. What brings you to elf lands? Why have you left your home? What’s your plan here? Speak!”

Her tone had grown interrogative, even hostile.

But Bash was an orc warrior, used to rough speech. He took no offense.

Besides, he was thrilled. She was curious. About him.

“Mm. Well…”

He had a chance. She was curious. She wanted to know about him.

Then, he should hesitate no longer.

He wanted to propose to her at once and then immediately drag her off to bed.

Of course, Bash knew it was still too soon for that. He had just spent the past few hours being rejected by a string of elf women over his lack of riches, after all. Proposing on the spot like this wouldn’t go down well, not with the way things stood. So then, how to answer her question in the meantime?

(Psst, Boss?)

As Bash hesitated, he heard Zell in his ear again.

(What?)

(I was just thinking… How about focusing all your efforts on this one? Make her your target, y’know?)

(What do you mean, target?)

(Elves mate for life, and they’re totally monogamous. So one of the things they like best in a man is loyalty!)

(What are you getting at?)

(What I’m saying is: Instead of casting your net wide and trying your luck with a ton of ladies, why don’t you focus all your wooing efforts on this one woman? I’d say your odds of success would go up dramatically!)

(…Ah, I get it!)

Here was a stunning elven bridal prospect, still unwed, with whom he was already acquainted. He had never had such good odds. So why not do everything he could to maximize success with this most likely candidate?

(But you definitely shouldn’t propose just yet, Boss. After all, you don’t have a shiny gold necklace yet. What you should do for now is let her know you’re interested in her, while sidestepping the whole topic of your bride-hunting objective! Then you can save up some funds, buy that necklace, and then propose! That’s how you should go about it all, Boss!)

(Roger that!)

Bash was impressed.

Good old Zell. Back on the battlefield, he had been saved countless times by the fairy’s quick thinking.

It was true that he had also been endangered by the fairy’s foolishness about the same number of times, but Bash was a grown man and could take care of himself. He wasn’t one to judge his buddy based on a few careless mistakes.

“My objective…”

“Yes? Yes? What’s your objective? Why are you here? Tell me!”

“…I shall say only this.”

He had to let her know he was interested.

The question was, how?

Bash’s brain was working at full capacity here. He chose his words carefully, drawing on the experience he’d gathered in the human country.

“I’ll be back to see you again.”

“What? You’re coming back? To see me?!”

The elf’s eyes widened in shock.

“What does that mean?! Explain yourself!”

“Heh. You’ll find out, soon enough…”

And with that, Bash turned and made his exit.

Keep an air of mystery at all times. That was what Bash had learned in the humans’ Fortified City of Krassel.

Make sure his target knew he was interested. But conceal his true objective. For now.

(Nicely done, Boss! Very smooth!)

Bash had been perfect.

Or so he thought.

Zell thought so as well, of course.

Both feeling pleased with how the encounter had gone down, they hurried off in the direction of the inn, eager to get out there and start slaying zombies for coin.

The elf woman watched Bash disappear into the distance, her face a mask of shock and horror.

“What the hell is going on…?”

None of this made any sense.

The elf woman was in a state of total confusion. But you could hardly blame her.

She clenched her hands into fists and stamped her foot in frustration.

“Curses! What is he doing here?! What is he planning?! I mean, suspicious much? He’s really here just traveling? Then don’t just walk off smirking after dropping such creepy, cryptic remarks! It’s like he’s trying to make himself conspicuous! I mean, don’t you agree? Huh?”

“Yes, I agree with you… But as an Orc Hero of his caliber…he may be here undercover. It wouldn’t make any sense for him to be openly indiscreet. And with you interrogating him like that, he could hardly explain himself without giving away his country’s secrets. He had no choice but to be cagey. Anyway, you know orcs aren’t known for their lying ability.”

“What? You’re taking that orc’s side over mine?!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The elf woman glared at the man until he shrugged.

“Well anyway! Now that we know he’s up to something, make sure he’s got eyes on him at all times!”

“Certainly. However, if he does return, it sounds like he plans to…kill you, Lady Sonia. Since you’ve already sniffed out his plans. I guess he’ll kill me, too, while he’s at it…”

All color drained from the elf woman’s face.

The look she was wearing right now—a mixture of awe and terror—was a look common on the faces of those who had encountered the Orc Hero Bash on the battlefield…

But no. She shook her head hard, fists still clenched.

“Even so, I refuse to flee. After all, I am Thunder Sonia, the Elf Hero herself!”

The woman, Thunder Sonia, shook her clenched fist at the moon, her voice tremulous but as prideful as ever.