Chapter 31 - Plains Rescue (2)
Yurin looked at the sky. It was almost dark.
She had lost track of time as she hunted the triters with her bow. It had been a while since she had been so immersed in a hunt. After checking her status window, she saw that she had gained one level, and that one of her skills was upgraded.
The corpses of the triters were all around her. It was a scene made by only two people, Yurin and the orc.
She couldn’t see where the orc had gone. She felt regret for some reason.
It was too late to return to Arnin. However, the orc appeared again, walking from the direction of Arnin. He was carrying a bag full of something. The orc placed the bag down on the ground. Then he dug a pit and started making a campfire.
A campfire was created on the plains at dusk. After the fire was created, the orc started to pull things out of the bag. Some fighting aids such as potions and bandages emerged, as well as several bottles of alcohol.
He had probably obtained them from the merchants coming to Arnin. The orc, who was preparing something, suddenly raised his big sword. The light of the campfire reflected off the blade of the sword.
He used the greatsword to dismantle the bodies of the triters on the ground. It was rapid work. The big meat was then placed on a tree branch. At the end, he laid it on top of the campfire.
Triter grilled skewers! The orc beckoned, as if he had felt Yurin’s eyes. Yurin walked up to the campfire. The orc made another skewer and handed it to here. It was big and heavy in her hands. Yurin took the skewer and sat opposite to the orc.
The orc was silent. He just quietly stared at the campfire. Yurin’s heart eased. She felt an unknown sense of comfort from the orc. She didn’t have to force herself to maintain a conversation like she did with others. She just enjoyed this serene moment.
Yurin let out a long sigh as she looked up at the sky. There were countless stars in the sky. It was a beautiful night sky that could never be seen in South Korea, where she lived in reality. The stars shining over the plains, the sound of a campfire, and the fragrant smell of meat.
She just enjoyed the comfort of this moment. Her mind became calm.
Suddenly, the orc gave her something.
It was alcohol. Yurin accepted it. The orc picked up another bottle from the ground and took a sip.
She had seen this scene a lot somewhere.
Yes, the Western films. On the screen, the wild and violent western troops would exchange meat and alcohol silently in the wilderness. Yurin felt like she had become a gunman who met a barbarian or a ghastly outlaw in the wilderness. The other person was a bad person, but they fought together and a subtle friendship was formed!
Yurin drank heavily at the thought, the hot liquid flowing down her throat. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve.
The orc nodded and gave her another bottle of alcohol. Yurin and the orc drank from the alcohol bottles.
The triter meat was cooked. The orc and Yurin bit into it. It was a little chewy, but she didn’t care. They were now the outlaws of the plains who were chewing on triter meat. Was this why other users fell into role-playing? Yurin felt free. She squeezed the oil out and ate the meat.
The moon shone over the dead bodies of the triters around them.
Meanwhile, Yurin and the orc continued to drink. They became quite tipsy. Yurin and the orc didn’t talk in words. Just tapping the bottles against each other was enough. Everything was clear with alcohol.
It was at that moment. There was the sound of footsteps and people talking.
Yurin frowned. Somehow, she felt like they were intruding on this historic time.
"I have to work hard to build up my reputation in Arnin.”
"Isn’t it night time?”
"Just do it. Perhaps there is a skill that will brighten up the night sky.”
Based on the dialogue, they were users.
It felt like they were roles designed to crash this well-formed stage. It was like a loud alarm making a dissonant sound that ruined the music the best orchestra was playing.
She didn’t want to talk about hunting with them or what their levels and skills were. Yurin was tired of playing the hard game without being able to look forward. At that moment, she just wanted to stay in the world that she had made with the orc.
Yurin pulled out a cloth cap from her bag. It was to hide the mark on her forehead. The orc looked at her but Yurin just smiled.
They both raised the bottles again. The sound of footsteps was getting closer.
Instead of turning around, she took a swig from the bottle and swallowed the alcohol. Then she chewed on the triter meat.
The dwarf user Gilliam came to Arnin to meet his friend, the human user Puri, only to be denied entry. People from other species said that he should build up his reputation to enter Arnin. Most of them headed to the north of Arnin to hunt the triters.
Despite it being night, Gilliam led Puri towards the plains.
He only saw the tough blacksmiths and warriors in the dwarf villages, so he wanted to see the beautiful city of the elves. Even the cold guard was like a beauty from a photograph. Once he got inside, many beautiful people would be moving around.
With these expectations, he tried to quickly hunt the triters. However, the plains were calm. He couldn’t see any signs of the triters that were constantly eating plants every day. There was just the light of a fire from a corner of the plains.
Gilliam and Puri walked towards the fire. Some users or NPCs seemed to be camping. They wanted to ask about the triters.
However, Gilliam and Puri gradually fell silent as they approached the campfire. It was because they quickly realized. The ridges in the darkness that they thought were rocks, actually weren’t rocks. It was the corpses of the triters that were scattered around the campfire. Numerous triters were dead. There was also the rotten smell of blood.
Gilliam and Puri looked at each other. Signs of anxiety were clearly evident. All of the corpses of the triters were divided into parts or riddled with holes, so mangled that they couldn’t be recognized. It was a disastrous scene. How long had these people been killing to slaughter so many triters?
They guessed that the owners of the campfire were the cause. They wanted to step back, but a strong curiosity prompted them to identity the faintly visible people. They drew closer to the campfire.
Gilliam and Puri stopped. The first thing they saw was the menacing face of an orc. An orc warrior with full body and face tattoos! He raised an alcohol bottle with a cavalier expression as a way to greet the visitors.
The second person had their backs to Gillam and Puri, so they couldn’t see them clearly. A female with long hair. She turned her head to look at them. She was a beautiful female elf.
But the atmosphere around her was different from the other elves they knew. Her idle eyes seemed like they could slaughter someone at any minute. The elf drank with a bottle in one hand and a huge meat skewer in the other, regardless of the visitors. The sight of a beauty wiping the alcohol with her sleeve!
She turned towards the campfire again like she wasn’t interested in them. Gilliam and Puri didn’t know what to do. The elf opened her mouth.
"Are you going to just stand there?”
It was a delicate yet decadent voice. It was seductive but also filled with an unknown killing intent. The voice also seemed like a warning. A warning for them not to sit down!
If they were given an opportunity to nickname her, they would call her this. Venomous spider! The black widow spider who was seductive but would ultimately lead men to their destruction!
“W-We are just passing by...”
Thanks to her, they sat quietly at the campfire.
Gilliam and Puri sat down and watched. The orc and elf drank from the bottles again without worrying about them. Were these two truly the ones who massacred the triters?
Gilliam couldn’t suppress his curiosity and asked.
“Many triters were killed.”
"It stinks of blood here. Are you skilled?”
At the mention of the bloody smell, the orc warrior Crockta sniffed. He didn’t smell anything. He breathed deeply like he was holding his breath. He had spent all day on the plains so he couldn’t smell the blood anymore. Instead, there was only the smell of cooked triter meat.
The triter meat was from the very first triter who mocked Crockta on the plains. It dared to laugh at him, but in the end, it became his meal. Crockta smiled as he thought about it.
Gilliam and Puri were astonished.
The devilish orc had taken a deep breath at the mention of the bloody smell and then smiled! He was satisfied with the feast of blood that he had created. He smelled blood and smiled happily! He was a natural killer who was born to shed blood or a natural assassin.
They started to think that sitting here was a mistake.
Puri tried to change the atmosphere by talking to the elf next to him.
"You must have suffered to catch so many of these guys. Isn't that right? Wasn’t it hard, Elf? Hahaha...ha.”
The elf Yurin stared at Puri with a mocking attitude. She was normally timid and dismissed by other users. When she made a mistake, they tried to teach her.
But behold, she hid that she was a user and they spoke so politely to her. They were acting like they couldn’t be rude to Yurin. Yurin couldn’t help smiling. This was why people looked for something different when role-playing. Such a minor change made such a big difference.
Gilliam and Puri were shocked again.
The elf smiled at the memories, like she was saying that hunting so many triters wasn’t that hard! It was obvious that this elf was in a state of ecstasy as she recalled the scene of slaughter. Was this woman really so happy about slaughtering the triters? This was like the blood madness that was the symbol of psychopaths. If she was a real person, then she would be a serial killer worse than Jack the Ripper!
Gilliam and Puri looked at each other and started to shake.
They met demons while trying to hunt triters. The triters, who already encountered these demons, were cold corpses. That would also be their fate!
Gilliam and Puri got up from their seats. But they didn’t make it. The orc’s heavy hand grabbed Gilliam’s wrist. Puri was also held by the elf and prevented from getting up.
Gilliam and Puri watched them with trembling eyes. Instead of talking, they grabbed new bottles and handed them to Gilliam and Puri.
The shadows from the campfire grew. The shadows over the faces of the orc and elf fluttered like evil masks. The long shadows at their backs made them no longer seem like humans.
Gilliam and Puri flopped down with weakened legs.
Praise the Orc: Glossary Link.
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