Translator: Cinder Translations
...
The appearance of the porcelain caused a stir at the banquet.
Chief Asoye generously passed the bottle around for everyone to admire, but he forbade anyone from taking it out of the box to avoid breaking it.
His son Gunter carefully explored the porcelain bottle with his hands for a while. After passing it on to someone else, his gaze towards Stanford flickered uncertainly.
"So, you plan to cross the Rocky Mountains. I must say, human warriors, that is a bold, even somewhat foolish decision," Chief Asoye said, raising his drink and engaging Stanford in conversation.
"Yes, after all, I am also an adventurer. The urge to explore the unknown flows in my blood, regardless of whether the unknown is dangerous," Stanford replied.
"To your courage, let's drink!"
The orc chief gulped down another large bowl of liquor, wiping his mouth with his arm.
"In that case, you'd better wait for the dwarves in the mountains to come out and interact with them. Maybe those stubborn fellows can help you get through," he suggested.
"Thank you for the advice; I was planning to do just that," Stanford said.
On the way here, he had also intended to make initial contact with the dwarves to see if he could gain their assistance.
If they were accommodating, that would be excellent; if not, he would have to quietly sneak into the Rocky Mountains.
Soon, the main event of the banquet began, with the caravan leader Eugene loudly announcing the goods they brought this time.
Salt, cloth, tea, and various iron pots and pans—items that the Blood Ox tribe, deep in the forest, desperately needed.
Each time Eugene finished mentioning an item, the tribal leaders present cheered with joy.
Then, they began to loudly discuss and even argue, either busying themselves fighting for their family's share of goods or haggling with the caravan members.
The Blood Ox tribe primarily used animal skins, medicinal herbs, and livestock to pay, along with a small amount of metal currency obtained from humans.
The banquet, which began in the evening, continued until around 9 PM, when the guests gradually dispersed. Stanford helped the somewhat dazed Matthew return to their lodgings.
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As night deepened, the chief's longhouse was still filled with light.
The central fire pit burned brightly, releasing heat into the spacious room and casting two tall orc figures against the wooden walls decorated with various animal skins and skulls.
Chief Asoye of the Blood Ox tribe held the porcelain bottle received at the banquet in his hands, its smooth surface shimmering with dazzling light.
"What a beautiful item!" Asoye exclaimed sincerely once more.
"My old friend!" Eugene, sitting across from him, snorted, "Has your heart reached the age of being obsessed with trinkets?"
"Oh, Eugene, you're being a bit harsh. Shouldn't beautiful things be appreciated more?" Asoye countered, then spoke in a tone of reflection: "Humans are truly an incredible race! Both cunning and wise, greedy yet enterprising. Only they could invent such beautiful... beautiful porcelain."
"Hmph!" Eugene scoffed slightly. "Perhaps in intellect, humans surpass us orcs, but in terms of strength, ten humans are no match for a single orc."
Asoye replied helplessly, "If you're talking about barehanded fighting, then yes, that's true. But what if humans wear armor, ride horses, and wield long spears and swords?"
Eugene countered, "That was in the past. Now, we have learned to smelt iron and craft stirrups; orc warriors can also don armor and wield swords."
Asoye wanted to continue debating with his old friend, but Eugene waved his hand to interrupt.
"Alright, my old friend. No more going in circles. Chief Abal sent me here not to discuss racial traits with you. Just tell me, what are you considering? When will you pledge your loyalty to the great chief?"
Asoye narrowed his eyes, "Are you really forcing me to make a choice?"
Eugene shook his head, "This isn't about forcing you; it's about aligning with the trend. Orcs have been scattered too long, like sand scattered on the ground. The grasslands need to see the emergence of a king who can unify all!"
"But this is deep in the forest."
"As long as you still consider yourself an orc, you will forever be a child of the grasslands."
Asoye stared at Eugene, "My old friend, we orcs have our own traditions, and these traditions have deeply embedded in our nature. We have lived happily this way for many years."
He hesitated for a moment and added, "But I have heard a lot about Chief Abal's exploits. I heard he has taken in some human vassals, invented titles for officials imitating human kingdoms, and is even tinkering with orc writing to push certain customs and etiquette."
"I've heard that the tribes that pledge loyalty to him can no longer migrate freely, that disputes between tribes must go through his judgment, and that each tribe must send their strongest warrior to him every year to form an army loyal to him."
"I don't understand; is this still being an orc? Where has our freedom gone? Why add more rules to constrain us? What I find even more confusing is that you mentioned a rather rude attitude towards humans, yet you are so loyal to a chief trying to imitate them."
Eugene hesitated for a moment, then retorted, "I may not like humans, but that doesn't stop me from learning from their strengths. Besides, don't I also admire those human warriors who crossed the sea?"
"Is what Abal is imitating really a strength?"
"Yes! Asoye, you only see freedom but not the bloody conflicts that arise every year among tribes fighting over pastures and water sources, where many excellent warriors perish in meaningless battles—how heartbreaking! The hatred stemming from these conflicts has been passed down from generation to generation, leaving us orcs always scattered!"
Eugene stretched out his hand, clenching it lightly before the bright flames.
"So, we must use rules and regulations to restrain our kin, and establishing these rules requires an authority. Under this authority's dominion, and within the constraints of rules, the various tribes can fairly allocate pastures and water sources, avoid meaningless conflicts and vendettas! Only then can we unite and face common enemies!"
He spoke in a tone that brooked no denial: "And this authority must be Chief Abal!"
Asoye asked, "Why must it be Abal?" but he didn't refute Eugene's earlier words.
Eugene stood up, his face filled with a fervor as he said, "Because he is of the bloodline of ancient heroes! The Zarg tribe once led the children of the grasslands to resist the invasion of the ancient Belarans! Thousands of years later, the descendants of this bloodline will continue to lead the children of the grasslands to conquer."
Asoye questioned in confusion, "Conquer?"
"Conquer!"
Eugene nodded enthusiastically!
(End of the Chapter)
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