Chapter 40: War and Feast

The sound of thousands of marching footsteps echoed through the spacious caverns.

Those footsteps belonged to races of a greenish hue. Some were large and burly, others small and agile, and some huge and clumsy.

Indeed, they were orcs, goblins, trolls, and a few other races that also thrived in the caverns.

But unlike their usual warlike and aggressive nature, there was worry in their steps.

Many looked around nervously, others swallowed hard, and most were sweating more from fear than from exhaustion.

“Warlord! Warlord!”

Morokar, a gigantic, burly orc, glanced over his shoulder at the small goblin trying to catch up to him.

“Warlord! These caverns are too deep!”

The orc grunted, holding back the urge to kick him.

“Do you think I haven’t noticed? We’ve been marching through them for weeks!”

The goblin shrank back at his lord’s irritation, but his worries outweighed his fear.

“But, Warlord, our provisions are running out, and the army… the army is starting to think there isn’t a dwarven fortress at the end of these caverns… that we’ve gone too deep… and are now in the underworld…”

Morokar grabbed the terrified goblin by the head and lifted him until they were face to face.

“You saw how everything went to shit. All of you saw it!” he shouted, now addressing the entire army. “It doesn’t matter where these caverns lead us. Whatever lies ahead will be my new territory to rule as I please!”

After hurling the goblin through the air, Morokar quickened his pace and urged his army to follow with a look that made it clear they should fear him more than the underworld.

***

Nerez had taken a tent on the outskirts of the camp, rejecting the idea of sleeping in the main tent himself (mostly because he would not be able to come and go in peace with the number of bows and prostrations he would receive every time he tried to enter or leave it).

However, he was now visiting the main tent to let Thaelor know that he would soon have to continue on his way in search of the river of death.

He had already rested after all those days of travel, and Cerys was growing impatient to fight something “with more spine,” as she put it (with particular emphasis whenever Avelle was nearby).

“Do you really have to leave, Lord Nereziel?” the old man asked, crestfallen. “Why not build your palace in the city of the Last Valley?”

“That would be wonderful!” Sae added, clasping her hands together. “Lord Nereziel and Lady Cerys could live here with us forever.”

“Thank you, but I need to find the river of death if I want to have any income. Besides, I have taxes to pay…”

“Income?”

“Taxes?”

The archonte and his granddaughter looked at each other, not understanding what Nerez meant.

“Haha, I know it sounds ridiculous. I won’t go into detail, but think of it as a certain amount of energy I need to gather.”

Although if I live in the underworld, it wouldn’t matter if Dusk Manor disappeared… Nah, if something like that happened, Selene would come straight to my door complaining that we lost an important base in the center of the gods’ political world or something like that.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“I see…” Sae murmured, becoming just as dejected as her grandfather.

“But will we see you again?” Sae and Thaelor asked in unison.

“…Yes. I don’t think the river of death is very far. I also don’t really know what I’m supposed to do there, but I’m sure I’ll be able to come visit you from time to time.”

“But Lord Nereziel, wherever you decide to live, please know that we will be there to help you,” Thaelor insisted. “Servants or soldiers, as many as you need for your palace!”

“I… appreciate the offer, Thaelor. If I ever end up having a palace, I’ll let you know…”

Just then, the flaps of the tent were thrown wide open, and Cerys came in like a whirlwind, interrupting the discussion.

“That Avelle filled the camp plaza with fruit, nuts, and meat again! As if her offerings did anything to make up for her lack of spine!” Cerys stomped the ground in a fury. “And she thinks we don’t know she’s taking all the animals that die on their own in her forest and throwing them here as if we were her animal graveyard!”

…

“Cerys, I’m sure that isn’t Avelle’s intention, and I see you’re still finding new ways to outdo yourself with these unjustified fits of anger…”

“Unjustified?! If she wants to give us an animal, she has to sacrifice it on an altar! That way you’d receive faith too! Not just throw corpses at us! That’s common knowledge!”

“She’s thinking about the visiare too, Cerys. Besides, you like fermented fruit, don’t you? This means you can have a drink before we leave.”

“Mmm… there is some truth to that…”

“But this is a problem,” Thaelor said, thinking aloud. “We were already struggling to keep up with preserving fruit and smoking meat. Much of this new gift may unfortunately go to waste…”

Hearing that, Sae jumped up from her seat, full of enthusiasm.

“I have an idea! We can hold a farewell party for Lord Nereziel and Lady Cerys!”