Chương 12: Life at risk

Chapter Twelve Life at risk Every adult male orc of the Bloodclaw Tribe had gathered inside the chief's house. In other words, every warrior in the tribe was present. The chief's home needed to be the largest not only to display his authority, but also to accommodate gatherings such as this one. Grild's wife had lit the ondol in advance, so the floor pleasantly roasted the backsides of every orc attending the meeting. Perhaps because of that warmth, peaceful smiles rested on all their faces.

The boar grease glistening around their mouths made those smiles shine even more brightly.

"Krahaha! We truly have nothing to fear this winter, Chief!"

"Exactly! Keh heh heh. We have warm houses and more food than we can eat!"

"Not a single tribesman has died this time! We have never experienced such a comfortable winter, Chief!" As Grild and Jark listened to the warriors, satisfied smiles appeared on their faces. Just as the others said, not one orc had died from the cold that year. In previous winters, the tribe had considered it fortunate if fewer than ten people died. To them, the current situation was nothing less than a miracle. There could be no disagreement over who had created that change.

It was the bold young child named Karath. His face naturally rose within the minds of Grild and Jark, deepening their smiles.

"Is this not all thanks to Karath? Hahaha! Who could have imagined such a clever child would be born in our village?"

"Surely this is the protection of the great warriors who died defending the Bloodclaw Tribe!" Grild and Jark were not alone in their admiration. Every orc enjoying the heat beneath his backside praised Karath without restraint.

"Krahahaha!" Grild released a hearty laugh as the adult warriors continued praising the boy. He was genuinely delighted that such an outstanding orc had been born within the tribe. The reason for his delight differed slightly from that of the others. The other warriors focused on Karath's creativity, which had produced ondol, earthen houses, and the training called hide-and-seek. Grild was more impressed by the leadership Karath had displayed while directing every one of those projects.

Orcs who had never held the position of chief might not understand. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Grild, who was responsible for deciding every major and minor matter affecting the village, understood it painfully well. When he first became chief, even he had not commanded others as skillfully as Karath did now. Such leadership should have been impossible for someone of that age. Age was hardly the only remarkable part.

Few adult orcs in the tribe could direct others as effectively as Karath. The boy possessed the qualities of a true chief. Grild made a silent promise. He would not repeat the mistake he had made with Garthon. The moment Karath reached adulthood and established himself, Grild would hand the position of chief to him.

"Krahaha! Leaving that aside, Elder Jark, why not return to active duty? From what I saw today, you still have plenty of strength left!" The cheerful conversation continued while Grild considered Karath's future. A warrior who had remained in the village to rest after completing the previous night's patrol laughed loudly as he praised Jark.

"Keh heh heh. Seeing blood again after so long merely excited this old body. Every part of it is aching even now." Hearing praise from an orc young enough to be his nephew, Jark struck several sore places on his body. He had genuinely overexerted himself during the battle. In his prime, he could have finished dozens of fallen Horn Boars without difficulty. That day, killing only four had already pushed him close to his limit.

He had become so excited by his first real battle in years that he had shouted "Kiyooooot!" like a young warrior. Remembering it was almost embarrassing.

"Besides, what did this old orc truly accomplish? Karath earned the greatest achievement in today's battle as well. Would you not agree, Chief?" Jark quickly redirected the conversation.

"Krahaha! The boy truly is exceptional, Elder Jark." Regardless of Jark's embarrassment, Grild also believed the tribe had survived the invasion without serious losses entirely because of Karath. Hide-and-seek had filled the settlement with traps. Karath had also commanded the children and guided the Horn Boars directly into them. Until that day, Grild had always considered young orcs who had not completed their coming-of-age ceremonies to be people who required protection. The battle had opened his eyes.

"Come to think of it, Karath has now survived nine winters. He will receive his prophecy this year." One adult orc suddenly spoke as the conversation continued.

"That is true! The boy is so clever that I had already begun thinking he was older than ten!"

"Krahaha! I am already looking forward to seeing the result!" The mention of the prophecy reminded everyone of the ceremony that would take place in spring. Their hearty laughter filled with anticipation. Every spring, the Bloodclaw Tribe held a special ritual. The Harvest Festival in autumn was a prayer for safely surviving winter. The spring festival divined the tribe's fortune for the newly beginning year. During the same celebration, the future of every child who had reached nine years of age was also foretold.

There were two primary reasons the ritual was performed at nine. The first was the ancient orc tradition of treating the number nine as sacred. After living for countless generations in the brutal environment of the monster-infested forest, only the tradition remained. The reason nine was considered sacred had long since been forgotten. The second reason was that too many children died at a young age. Two out of every three perished before reaching five.

Divining the futures of every one of those children would have placed an unbearable burden on the tribe's only shaman. Conversely, orcs who survived nine winters rarely died afterward from cold or disease. Reaching nine therefore marked the moment when a child was accepted as a true member of the tribe and allowed to receive a prophecy concerning the future.

"Hmm. Is Garlik well enough?" Grild asked about the health of the shaman, who was essential to the festival.

"Yes! She said the ondol allowed her to pass this winter comfortably, so she is healthy enough. We also have plenty of food this year, so there should be no problem."

"This is another thing we owe to Karath! Keh heh heh."

"Then there will be no reason to delay the ceremony this time! Hahaha!" Hearing that the elderly shaman had recovered her health, Grild revealed his frightening tusks in a pleased smile. In truth, the chief did not particularly enjoy the spring festival. As the leader of a tribe that valued tradition, he continued observing it because it was expected of him. What value was there in divining a child's future while living inside such a vicious forest?

For boys, nine out of ten prophecies predicted that they would become great warriors. For girls, the result was usually that they would become mothers of great warriors. Grild had found the ceremony meaningful when he was young. After seeing the same scene repeated hundreds of times, he occasionally found himself wondering whether it had any purpose at all. It was an almost unorcish line of thought. This year was different. Grild genuinely wanted to know what result Karath would receive.

For some reason, he felt certain that the boy's future would not resemble the same predictable prophecies repeated every year. That expectation caused the chief's heart to pound with anticipation. ```