The Indomitable Martial King - Chapter 114

[ Chapter 114 ]

Repenhardt took off his outer garment and walked to the clearing. He removed his clothes in advance, anticipating that they might get damaged during the battle. For someone who once ruled as an emperor of a nation, this behavior could be seen as rather petty. However, having lived through poverty during his time as Gym Unbreakable, the current Repenhardt did not realize this perception.

As he stripped off his shirt, his steel-like physique was revealed. The expressions of the orcs, who were about to cheer for Repenhardt, suddenly stiffened.

“What the…”

“Hmm…”

Orcs revered warriors.

Orcs praised strength.

To these orcs, Repenhardt’s physique was not just impressive; it was utterly mesmerizing. That incredibly trained body! Even by orc standards!

“Wow.”

Even Stalla, who had not expected this, widened her eyes for a moment. Then, after a brief pause, she offered genuine praise.

“Your physique is amazing.”

“Hmm…”

Repenhardt blushed at the truly orc-like compliment. Stalla, observing her fellow orcs’ reactions, smirked.

“You don’t need to worry about the ceremony. Everyone is already in awe of you.”

Indeed, the orc warriors seemed to consider Repenhardt’s bare torso sufficient to acknowledge him as a warrior. With such a physique, he could not possibly be anything but a warrior. They truly exemplified the expression “simple-minded machos.”

“Well, we can’t skip the formal ceremony, though.”

Muttering, Stalla drew her dagger, while Repenhardt also took a fighting stance.

He declared loudly,

“My name is Repenhardt Wald Antares! I am ready for the Ritual of Hotu!”

Stalla, gripping her dagger firmly, introduced herself according to the ritual.

“I am Stalla, warrior of the Blue Bear Tribe. I will fight you. Normally, the Ritual of Hotu involves each side sending one representative. However, as the only one who can face a warrior like you, I have no choice but to fight myself. Forgive me.”

“No matter.”

Repenhardt waved his hand dismissively and shouted a battle cry.

“Urah!”

Golden aura surged like flames, enveloping his entire body. Stalla also let out a roar, summoning a blue-purple aura.

“Krarara!”

Just as the two aura-wielders were about to ignite their fighting spirits towards each other, a deep voice suddenly interrupted them.

“Hey, wife! Would it be alright if I take on that fellow?”

Startled, Repenhardt turned his head.

‘Huh!’

The reason for his surprise was simple. The voice had not come from the orc warriors’ side but from behind where his own companions stood.

Siris, Tilla, and Russ all turned around in surprise. Standing there was an orc with a massive greatsword strapped to his back. Like Stalla when she first appeared, he was covered in a cloak, revealing only his eyes. Yet, those eyes alone exuded an intimidating strength.

“Who, who are you?”

“When did you get here?”

Everyone was shocked. Even Siris, with her keen elven senses, and Russ, an aura user, had not noticed anyone approaching from behind.

The cloaked orc brushed past Repenhardt’s group, heading toward the clearing. Stalla looked at him, tilting her head in confusion.

“Husband?”

As the orc walked forward, Stalla relaxed her stance and sheathed her dagger. She asked,

“When did you arrive, husband?”

“I’ve been here for a while, wife. It looked interesting, so I was watching.”

Repenhardt’s entire group stared tensely at the cloaked orc. They had not sensed his presence at all. Where had he been watching from?

The orc glanced at Russ and Siris, then waved dismissively. Pointing to a spot behind them, he spoke in the common tongue.

“Don’t be alarmed. I was over there by that rock.”

He indicated a large rock in the wilderness about 200 to 300 meters away. Repenhardt’s face showed understanding. If he had been hiding at that distance, it made sense they hadn’t noticed. With the vision of an aura user, 200 to 300 meters wasn’t far, making it easy for him to observe.

Even so, not noticing someone approaching from behind until they were right there was embarrassing for any warrior. If this orc had hostile intentions, they could have been struck down without even realizing it. Russ and Siris still wore hardened expressions, their eyes filled with caution as they watched the orc.

The orc moved to stand beside Stalla and pulled back his hood. His dark red skin and typical orcish features were revealed. His hair was white and his face wrinkled, indicating his advanced age.

Stalla looked at him, puzzled, and asked,

“But why are you back already? What about the King of Serpents?”

The King of Serpents.

Humans called this powerful monster the Elder Drake. For many years, it had plagued the Blue Bear Tribe as one of their greatest enemies. With a body twice the size of a typical drake and scales that even blade aura couldn’t easily cut through, this ferocious beast had led Stalla’s husband to leave the tribe alone to hunt it just ten days ago. She hadn’t expected him to return so soon.

The orc man shrugged his shoulders and replied triumphantly.

“I already caught it, chopped it up nicely, and delivered it.”

“Already? As expected of my husband. We’ll be feasting for a while.”

“Did well, didn’t I?”

“You did well, very well.”

After the couple’s intimate(?) reunion, the orc man looked at Repenhardt and cheerfully shouted.

“Nice to meet you, stranger warrior. I am Kalken, the chieftain and warrior of the Blue Bear Tribe.”

☆ ☆ ☆

Standing before Repenhardt, Kalken threw off his cloak. Despite his slightly aged face, his body was brimming with youthful, bulging muscles.

And…

‘Ha ha, it’s the first time since my master?’

Repenhardt found it awkward to be looking up at someone for the first time in a long while.

Kalken’s height was well over two meters. He seemed to be almost on par with the former Fist King Teslon. Although he appeared slightly shorter than his master Gerard, orcs typically were slightly shorter than humans but had broader physiques. Judging by his broad shoulders and thick limbs, his build seemed even more imposing than his master’s.

Repenhardt and Kalken stood facing each other. A few spectators rubbed their eyes absentmindedly. The sight of the two massive figures standing side by side was confusing their sense of perspective.

Kalken asked Repenhardt a question.

“Human warrior, may I face you on behalf of my wife?”

Repenhardt responded boldly.

“Fine by me!”

If this were a duel where victory mattered, there would have been no reason to face the formidable Kalken instead of the exhausted Stalla. However, the Ritual of Hotu wasn’t about winning. Refusing the challenge here would have made him appear dishonorable, unworthy of a warrior. It was better to show a bold front and gain more respect.

“That’s what I wanted!”

Kalken burst into hearty laughter.

“Ha ha ha! Good! You’re a real man!”

Kalken drew a greatsword from his back. The sword was even longer than Kalken, who stood over two meters tall. The blade was so massive that if laid sideways, it could easily provide shelter for several people.

Wooong!

A gigantic green blade aura enveloped the enormous sword. Raising the aura-infused sword, Kalken shouted.

“Draw your weapon!”

Repenhardt took his stance, his fists glowing with a golden aura.

“I am my own weapon!”

“Oh?”

Kalken looked intrigued. While the orcs had their traditional hand-to-hand combat techniques, no one seriously fought barehanded against armed opponents. With the secret technique known as Spirits Weapon, an armed orc was incomparably stronger.

“흥미롭군!”

Kalken roared, his eyes gleaming.

“Let’s fight!”

In that moment, Repenhardt chuckled and extended his hand.

“Dream, descend upon me. Improved Sleep!”

Just as Kalken was about to charge, he collapsed with a thud.

“Snore~!”

“……”

Everyone watching fell silent. They were all agape, utterly dumbfounded. They had been eagerly anticipating a fierce clash between powerful aura users, but now this?

No matter how much an orc tried, an orc was still an orc. Just because one was an aura user didn’t mean they suddenly gained magic resistance.

Sillan mumbled, his face blank with disbelief.

“Well, this is anticlimactic…”

Russ wore a similar expression.

“You can’t possibly count this as a victory, right?”

“…Surely not?”

Siris clicked her tongue. The Ritual of Hotu was meant to measure a warrior’s prowess. No orc would accept magic as proof of a warrior’s worth. She couldn’t understand why Repenhardt had done such a thing.

‘This will only breed resentment, won’t it?’

Sure enough, Stalla was looking back and forth between her husband, who was now snoring on the ground, and Repenhardt, who had his hands raised in the air in a spellcasting gesture.

“This, this is not the warrior’s way!”

Repenhardt gestured towards Stalla, who was protesting indignantly.

“Wake him up.”

Stalla clicked her tongue and approached her husband, nudging him with her foot. Kalken yawned, opened his eyes, and looked around dazedly.

“Huh? Didn’t I get a good rest?”

“You were hit by a spell, husband.”

“Huh? That fellow’s a mage too?”

Kalken looked at Repenhardt with astonished eyes.

He wouldn’t have been this surprised if his opponent had been a regular human. But Kalken had already realized that Repenhardt was a powerful aura user. For someone with the strength of a mighty warrior to also wield magic?

Repenhardt shrugged and responded.

“I am both a warrior and a mage. I informed you to be fair.”

The orcs’ expressions turned peculiar.

As much as they revered warriors, orcs despised the existence of mages. Magic, which could not be blocked no matter how much one trained, was akin to the devil’s work to the orcs.

However, openly despising him was not an option, as Repenhardt was undeniably a formidable warrior. It was difficult to determine whether he should be acknowledged or not.

Repenhardt, speaking in a calm voice, addressed the bewildered Kalken and the other orcs.

“My magic, like my body, is also my weapon. Would it not be disrespectful if I did not use everything I possess against you?”

On reflection, this made sense. Kalken mumbled uncertainly.

“I-Is that so?”

Pretending to be unruffled on the outside, Repenhardt anxiously observed the reactions of the orcs.

‘Hmm, how will they respond?’

In truth, Repenhardt had not employed the sleep spell out of ignorance of the orcs’ aversion to magic. However, he needed to gain the orcs’ trust. Since it was not as if he would never use magic in front of them for the rest of his life, hiding his identity as a mage only to be discovered later would result in an even greater loss of trust.

Trust was hard to gain but easy to lose in an instant.

Despite the possibility of being met with suspicion, being honest about everything now was a better choice for the future.

And, in fact, he had something to rely on.

‘Kalken’s perception of magic wasn’t that bad.’

Sure enough, Kalken’s expression softened, and he nodded.

“Indeed. If magic is also your weapon, not using it would be rather dishonorable.”

The orcs murmured and exchanged puzzled glances at Kalken’s acceptance of magic.

“Isn’t magic bad?”

“But isn’t not using a weapon when you have one also bad?”

“But is magic a weapon? Isn’t that cheating?”

“Isn’t it more dishonorable not to give your all in the Ritual of Hotu? I appreciate the honesty.”

“This is hard…”

In the end, the murmuring orcs reached a conclusion typical of their kind.

“Well, if the chieftain says so, then it must be.”

True to their simple nature, they gave up on thinking deeply and just accepted it because Kalken had said so. Kalken stood up, holding his greatsword, and looked at Repenhardt.