Chapter 78：True Talent

Shaman Timmah seemed visibly moved. His enormous bovine eyes shimmered with an unusual glint, and his voice trembled slightly. "I cannot thank you enough. Allow me to take part in this grand endeavor. I swear by the name of Satyr that my people and I will never let you down. That filthy and despicable Glory Fortress in Celeste will one day be reduced to ruins beneath our feet."

The negotiations proceeded with remarkable ease and efficiency, without any haggling, obstacles, or hesitation. The inclusion of the Minotaurs and Harpies into Orford was swiftly settled between the city's ruler and the Minotaur Shaman. Theodorus remained fervently enthusiastic throughout, his face radiant with excitement and adorned with a constant smile. Timmah, on the other hand, was deeply moved. Without delay, he set off on a wyvern to the border between Tatalia and Nigen, where he would await the migration of his people from Nigen.

As the wyvern soared high into the sky and Theodorus became nothing more than a tiny speck on the ground, Timmah's previously warm and poetic expression cooled into something far more composed. Though he found human social customs repulsive, he was no stranger to them. After all, to rise to the position of Shaman—nearly ascending to the throne of Nigen itself—he had to admit that it was his deep understanding of human ways that had brought him this far.

This was indeed a good place. Shaman Timmah had to admit that, deep down. When he arrived here using a teleportation scroll, he was almost taken aback. Over a decade ago, when he first heard Theodorus speak of this plan back in Nigen, he had dismissed it as mere fantasy. Yet, against all odds, Theodorus had made it a reality—and not just any reality, but a resounding success.

In terms of achievements, no so-called hero could ever compare to him.

Precisely because of this, Theodorus was someone who demanded the utmost vigilance. Timmah wholeheartedly agreed with Theodorus' earlier assessment of heroes—anyone who could rise to power, succeed, and wield great strength must be a person of deep cunning, unbound by trivial concepts like morality. Naturally, the same applied to things like friendship.

For Theodorus to welcome him so warmly, to display such generosity and enthusiasm—if it were truly out of friendship or sentiment, Timmah knew that was simply impossible. Just as he himself had not come here out of gratitude.

With Orford constantly on the brink of war with the Church, an influx of over a thousand desperate Minotaurs and Harpies was an invaluable resource. Theodorus' reaction was entirely within Timmah's expectations—he had already known what the outcome would be before he even set foot here.

In the eyes of those who had truly succeeded and risen to power, everything was simply categorized as useful or useless, beneficial or harmful. Because of this, predicting their reactions was often a straightforward matter.

Of course, the same applied to Shaman Timmah.

Inside the lord's office, the ruler of Orford, who had just seen Timmah off, no longer wore the same enthusiastic and radiant expression as before. He pulled a map from his desk, tossed it lightly into the air, and with a precise flick of his fingers, a deft application of air magic smoothed it out perfectly against the wall.

The map was massive, covering almost an entire wall, and exquisitely crafted—after all, Theodorus himself was one of the continent's most renowned adventurers, scholars, and cartographers.

In the center of the map, where Orford stood within the Wild Highlands, a number "10" had been marked in chalk. Theodorus pondered for a brief moment, then picked up a pen and added a "+2" next to the number.

In the southwestern corner of the map, where Nigen was marked, Theodorus unhesitatingly wrote a zero, completely covering the original number. His gaze then shifted to the vast territories between Nigen and Orford—lands controlled by Celeste's vassal states, with Alrasia at the forefront. Each of these nations had its own numerical value written beside it.

These numbers represented the national strength and military capabilities of each state. While none of them, apart from Alrasia, had a figure even close to Orford's "10," their combined total far exceeded it, reaching nearly thirty.

Though these numbers had been this way for some time, it was only now—now that Nigen was covered by that zero—that their full significance became clear.

A knock sounded at the door.

Without turning away from the map, Theodorus simply spoke in a low voice: "Have you figured it all out?"

"All the calculations are done. The resettlement process will take about half a month and consume roughly 30% of this month's productivity. If properly settled, the average monthly expenditure will increase by 20%. As for productivity, I have no way to estimate it—I have no idea what minotaurs and harpies are capable of."

The door opened, and Lord Borugan walked in, flipping through a ledger as he reported his findings.

The deputy city lord was still as short and stout as ever, his face round like a pancake. However, the wild mess of hair that once looked like an overgrown thicket was now neatly combed and slicked with oil. Gone was the perpetually unwashed, tattered cloak he used to wrap himself in; instead, he now wore a tidy and somewhat imposing official uniform.

Ironically, with this outfit, he looked more like a city lord than Theodorus himself, who was dressed in simple, unadorned clothing.

There were no tailors in Orford—such a profession was unnecessary for orcs. Borugan had taken time out of his busy schedule to use a teleportation scroll and have this outfit custom-made in Einfast, modeled entirely after the uniforms of the Einfast Empire's officials.

But still, no matter how finely crafted the attire was, it simply failed to bring out any real sense of authority when worn by someone with his build.

That outfit was originally meant to be his formal attire for visits to the Tooth Tower. However, perhaps due to his immense satisfaction with his own appearance, it gradually became his permanent uniform.

"We don't need them to do anything else. As long as they can fight and kill, that's enough," Theodorus replied calmly.

"Yes. Minotaurs are actually stronger in combat than ogres, and though harpies are small and weak, they are highly mobile. If they can coordinate properly with wyverns, Orford's aerial superiority will be completely unchallenged... but—"

Lord Borugan scratched his head out of habit, then quickly smoothed down his hair before continuing, "But… just because they have potential doesn't mean they'll actually be useful."

"Both harpies and minotaurs are hot-tempered, arrogant, and difficult to control. They won't easily integrate into the city and are likely to spark racial conflicts. On top of that, they each have their own leaders—and those two leaders are closely aligned. In peacetime, that might not be a big issue, but in times like these…" Borugan hesitated before concluding in a serious tone, "Lord Theodorus, I don't think letting them join Orford is a good idea."

"All of this, I already know…" Theodorus sighed. "But without them, I simply don't have enough confidence to resist the Church's impending offensive."

"But it hasn't been long since the Church's allied forces retreated last time. Even if they regroup their troops, their numbers couldn't possibly—"

"Their numbers will be twice what they were last time," Theodorus said flatly, his voice as cold as ice.

"They no longer have to worry about Nigen. Every western border defense force of those nations can now be fully committed to the battle for the Wild Highlands." His finger tapped the map at Nigen's location, where only a large zero remained. "Twice the troops, and they will be coming at us with everything they have."

"But if we can just hold out until General Grutt secures a foothold in the Saundfest Mountains, we'll have a steady supply of high-grade magical materials. The Tooth Tower can craft scrolls for us. When that happens—"

"There won't be time," Theodorus interrupted, turning to look at Lord Borugan before exhaling deeply. The vigor and confidence that once radiated from him were gone. His face, once proud and unyielding, now bore deep, weary wrinkles. The silver of his hair and beard no longer gleamed with its usual luster, leaving only an old man's pallor. "Magnus will never give us that chance."

"The spies from Celeste have reported back?" Lord Borugan asked.

"No," Theodorus shook his head with a bitter smile. "It was that bull, Timmah, who brought me the news. He told me that Magnus actually used Purgatory Paradise on Nigen."

He let out a dry chuckle and shook his head slightly. "That was one of the two forbidden spell scrolls crafted two hundred years ago by the Pope and three cardinals at the cost of their entire lifeforce. Back then, just using one was enough to completely turn the tide of war between Alrasia and Nigen. The remaining scroll has been kept until today, arguably Celeste's most historically significant artifact. I was always worried Magnus might use it against us, but instead, he used it on Nigen—wiping out both the Minotaurs' and the Dark Elves' main forces in one strike while they were caught in a civil war."

"Incredible…" Lord Borugan gaped, his mouth wide enough to fit an ogre's fist. He nodded in understanding. "If he was willing to burn such a trump card on Nigen, then his true goal is actually Orford, and he really won't give us any breathing room."

"Mm." Theodorus nodded, his gaze carrying a hint of approval as he looked at his deputy. Borugan was a man without guile but with a sharp mind. Though his straightforwardness sometimes made him seem a bit dull, he was by far the most capable of all the young men under Theodorus' command, and thus, the one he trusted the most.

A brilliant mind untainted by scheming—that was true talent.