Orc Eiyuu Monogatari Sontaku Retsuden

couldn’t attain the one deciding factor to win the Armament Festival…

Yes, it was decent equipment.

It was then that a Dwarf came to him.

The Dwarf light-heartedly chastised Koro for his ill-temper.

“I know you’re a Beastkin, but that doesn’t mean you have to act like an actual dog,” they said, “Have some dignity and respect.”

But the headstrong warrior didn’t listen.
After all, who was this Dwarf to tell him what to do?

And yet the very next day, the Dwarf came back again.

“Come on Koro, listen to me just once.
Just once! And I won’t bother you again.”

And the day after that as well.

And the day after…

One day, after finishing his opponent in one of his arena matches, on a whim, Koro decided to follow the Dwarf’s advice.

The Beastkin, instead of belittling and kicking his downed enemy, instead helped them up.

It had been a hard-fought battle, and he was fatigued.
He just didn’t have the energy to think of appropriate insults to throw, so he reasoned that he may as well be honorable for a change.

The very next moment, cheers erupted from the audience.

The entire crowd showered him with praise, chanting his name.

Koro was elated.

Since that day, little by little, the Beastkin’s behavior changed.

Though his rude demeanor was a lost cause – he still berated anyone that crossed him, he had stopped abusing his downed opponents.

His fanbase grew exponentially, the Dwarves of Do Banga adoring his heel-face turn.

After all, who doesn’t love a good redemption arc?

Koro, seeing that his benefactor had some obvious goodwill, asked the latter if they would make him some equipment for the Armament Festival.

The Dwarf, though taken aback, immediately agreed.

Over the next few months, they went through countless trials and errors, finally forging a blade and armor perfectly fitted to the Beastkin’s physique.

With a smith at his side and steel on his shoulders, Koro was now perfectly prepared for this year’s tournament.

The dwarven blacksmith who lent him their strength?

Her name was Carmela Do Banga.

“…”

The crowd expected Koro to be up to his usual antics – what kind of insults would he hurl towards his opponent? Would he point out their diminutive size for an Orc? Would he insult their parents? Their skills?

But unexpectedly, the rowdy Beastkin did none of the above.

As the match began, the dark-furred warrior curled his tail and bowed deeply towards Bash – a Beastkin gesture of gratitude and submission.

Never in his entire arena fighting career had he done such a thing.

Intimidation was the norm, but a bow?

The entire audience was speechless.

Those in the know were aware of the significance of this act.

A Beastkin warrior would only bow before a fighter that was plainly superior to himself.

In other words, Koro was outright admitting for all to see that he had a slim to zero chance of coming out victorious from this match.

The warrior lowered himself into stance, adopting to use Beastkin Army’s martial arts instead of the lax, mocking posture he would usually take.

His body was turned sideways, his hips low to the ground.

Holding his sword by his side, every muscle in his body were coiled up like a spring, ready to pounce.

“I am honored to face you in combat.
Thank you for this opportunity.”

Koro himself didn’t expect to act this way.

Even if the Beastkin Hero Leto was his opponent, he would have loudly claimed to be stronger, and that he would prove it.

But even so, he had inadvertently, yet naturally, thanked the Orc Hero.

The warrior quickly cleared his mind of such thoughts, however.

This was the third round of the Armament Festival – the furthest he had ever gotten.
A place he had reached with the help of his Dwarven partner.

And his opponent was none other than Bash, the Orc Hero.
Everyone who was anyone on the battlefield knew how deadly this man was.

This was not a fight when he could afford to think about frivolous things.

“Umu.”

Bash nodded and raised his sword.

The fight began with little fanfare.

Gliding soundlessly over the dirt, Koro quickly positioned himself to Bash’s right, swinging out his blade.

But it was a feint.
The Beastkin wanted to draw out the Orc by striking his dominant side.

His feet dug deep into the ground as he lowered himself and sharply turned instead toward the Hero’s left side, further away from the latter’s sword.

The dark-furred warrior swung his sword out again, this time fully intent to land a hit.

FLASH

In an instant, Bash’s arm turned into a blur.

And in the next, Koro was flung away like a dead puppy.

Before anyone knew it, the Beastkin’s limp body had gone over the arena’s walls and crashed into the stands.

Fortunately, there was nobody sitting in the spot of the collision.

But unfortunately, that meant there was nothing to cushion Koro’s landing.

He did not get up.

“Winner, Bash!”

The match was over in the blink of an eye.

Bash had won.

As many of the spectators had expected, Koro had suffered a crushing defeat.

However, nobody mocked him.

Instead, he received applause, albeit sparsely, for having the bravery, just like Gorgol before him, to even cross swords with the terror that is the Orc Hero.

Thus, Bash’s spot in the tournament’s semifinals was decided.