Chapter 13: No Rest For The Wicked

Inside a tall, spacious tent, two large monsters were pushing strenuously against something on the other side of a small wooden table. Despite using their full strength, their biceps bulged as they grunted and groaned in pain. All the while, the source of their exertion taunted them with a twisted grin on its face.

"Is that all you've got, worms? Two on one not enough for you?"

A giant orc wearing a set of spiked black metal pauldrons rested one hand on its chin in apparent amusement as it arm-wrestled the two orcs simultaneously. After holding its wrestling hand in place for some time, it savoured the despairing looks on their faces, before eventually deciding to grant them mercy by smashing their hands down into the table. The table smashed upon impact and crumbled into a pile of debris.

"Pathetic. Bring a third next time."

The defeated orcs stared at the broken table momentarily, with mixed looks of reverence, frustration and envy, before quickly stepping back.

"Yes, Drillmaster. We still too weak."

"We become stronger before next time."

The drillmaster waved them out and moved to lie down, not particularly caring about the splintered wood in the surroundings. However, before he could do much else, another orc came running into the tent.

"Drillmaster!"

"What is it now?" The orc leader growled with irritation, "I was just about to rest."

"I am sorry Azrog, but we spot fire mist in distance! We need your orders."

"Fire mist?" Azrog stood up and slapped the tent flap aside as he went to check for himself.

Indeed, a large plume of 'fire mist' was surging out from the forest canopy about half a click north-east. Rather than feel exhilaration at the prospect of another hunt, Azrog groaned with annoyance. He was tired, and he already had enough prisoners.

His original orders were to take some warriors he was training to go hunt down and execute the human trespassers who dared spy on their construction to the north, then hold this position afterwards to kill any further intruders. The weak humans were outnumbered, so he easily defeated them and brought half their number back to his camp.

Why did he take them as prisoners? Well, that was obvious; they made for great entertainment. The only thing more satisfying than watching a disciplined subordinate follow his orders, was, rather, to watch a disciplined enemy do so. The beautiful myriads of emotions which ran through their faces as they acted in direct contravention to their own values and wishes. Ah, what a glorious sight that was. Especially that one girl in the group. The look of absolute vitriol in her eyes when he ordered her to chop her friend's leg off; priceless! Azrog couldn't help but chuckle a little remembering the scene. As for his men, he just told them that the humans would make good food reserves since they could be kept fed with plants.

Those same subordinates were actually looking his way right now, so Azrog quickly returned his attention to the issue at hand.

Hmm... Sure, there were more intruders, but he was tired and didn't really feel like going over to them.

Upon thinking for a moment, he had a brilliant idea. Why not just send his men to catch the intruders, while using the prisoners as an excuse to stay here himself?! Perfect! He was so smart!

Inwardly patting himself on the back, he addressed his men. "Okay, I decided. Here are the orders:" Actually, on second thought, he had 50 men. He wouldn't need all of them to capture what should just be some more puny humans. The rest could stay at camp to guard the prisoners. Yes, that plan made more sense.

"Squads Togra, Jukha, Golag, Urbul and Krok, go to the fire and kill any humans. None should escape. I will not be going with you this time because you need practice doing it on your own. The rest of you will stay here."

"Yes, Drillmaster!" His subordinates accepted the orders and went to collect their weapons. Shortly after, they assembled into an armed group of 25 and bounded toward the fire in long strides. Azrog did not wait to see them off. Instead, he retreated to his tent and kicked aside the remnants of crushed table, before removing his pauldrons and lying down.

A minute passed, and Azrog exhaled in satisfaction. Finally, he would be able to-

"Agh!" A muffled scream could be heard nearby. It was one of the humans.

"Dammit!" Azrog bellowed in fury. He'd nearly fallen asleep. So close!

...

...

Max waited until the orcs all had their attention on the smoke before quietly dashing to the tent, brandishing his dagger. After throwing a small rock to the far-side roof of the tent, he flung the flap open.

Sure enough, the rock ploy worked as it always did. Inside the tent, an orc was facing the other way while staring at the roof like an idiot, not even noticing the widened eyes of the human prisoners. Max crept up and slashed its neck from behind, making sure to slash several times for assurance. A darkened damage indicator showed that the stealth kill was a success, so Max wasted no time and cast his eyes over the tent.

Matching Edmond's information, there were 8 survivors. Each of them was fully awake, staring back at him with surprise. They were fully bound, except for the ones missing limbs, so Max quickly cut their bindings with his dagger. "Stay quiet." He freed the first person with little difficulty, "Which one of you is vice-captain Parker?"

"That's me." A uniformed woman with long, blood-soaked hair called back.

[ Human: 'Alyssa Parker', Level: 29 ]

'Eh? The vice-captain was a girl?' Max suppressed his surprise as he cut her wrists free. He hadn't heard any mention of this from Ken or Edmond. She was higher level than the others, too.

"Use this." He tossed her a spear. "Let me explain. Ken sent me here after you, Edmond made a diversion and is now escaping, while I'm here alone to break you out."

"I understand." The young officer nodded and used the spear to free a guard next to her. "Do you have a plan?"

"Not a good one, unfortunately. You have two options: You can either try to sneak out of here with me now or stay here and wait for reinforcements. Edmond was nearly eaten a short while ago, so I recommend the first option."

"First option it is. All right, Rod, Lambert, Donovan, you guys carry those three. We need to move. Now!"

Max appreciated that she was quick on the uptake. Two of the men looked to have broken legs, while a third was missing legs altogether. Those three were not in any condition to move on their own.

Just as Parker moved to open the tent flap, Max pulled her back. A flurry of footsteps passed nearby, which was probably a group of orcs leaving to check out Edmond's fire. Briefly waiting until the sounds receded, Max did a head-check for enemies.

"Clear. Let's go! Now!" Max whispered urgently as he held the flap open and ushered them through.

Just as the last guard came through carrying his comrade, he accidently bumped their broken leg against the wooden tent frame.

"Agh!" The injured man couldn't help but cry out in pain, as he quickly covered his mouth. However, it was already too late, as an orc yelled loudly from another tent nearby.

"Sh*t." Max cursed quietly. "Go, go, go!"

The group ran into the forest at full tilt. An orc spotted them along the way, so Max quickly acted, scoring two perfect shots to the forehead to silence it before disappearing behind the treeline.

...

...

Azrog stormed out of the tent, incensed at having been robbed of his sleep again. He'd given the men strict orders not to torture the prisoners, as it would be too loud and impede his sleep, and yet, a loud noise had awoken him mere moments before he could drift off.

Ready to give the offender a piece of his mind, he smacked the tent flap aside and cracked his knuckles loudly.

"...?"

The tent was... empty? Where were the guards? Where were- THE PRISONERS!

"ROAR!!" Azrog howled, "MEN AT ARMS! THE PRISONERS HAVE ESCAPED!"

As he waited for his men to assemble, he spotted two pairs of mangled arrows on the ground nearby. Picking them up, he gnashed his teeth in rage. None of his men used bows.

Sniffing the air, he could sense nearly a half-dozen distinct scents, all still strong. They must have escaped only a minute ago or less.

Just 23 of 25 men responded to his summon. As he suspected, 2 had been assassinated. "Qog and Dromar, take your squads and bring back the prisoners. They are weak and injured, so I expect you to be done in five minutes or less."

"Yes, Drillmaster!" The two squad leaders thumped their chests in acknowledgement and ran to enter the forest without delay.

"F*cking insects." Azrog cursed the humans and grumbled angrily.

He didn't really care that they tried to escape; any animal with a shred of intelligence would try to escape in that situation. He didn't really care about the two dead subordinates either. If they died so easily, it only meant they were useless in the first place.

What he was really mad about was the fact that his sleep was disturbed AGAIN!

Could he not get a shred of f*cking peace in this sh*tty forest?

He went to grab a broken spear to heat in the fireplace, a hot poker which he would use to take his frustrations out on the prisoners when they returned.

And then... then he would SLEEP. He would have his f*cking sleep!!