Chương 18: Under the Tribal Banner

Now that dozens of adult orcs with tremendous strength had joined the work, the construction of the drainage system proceeded smoothly. Or at least, it should have.

"Uncle Goldin! If you dig that section so deeply, all the water will collect there!" Some orcs had heard only that the ditches needed to be lower than the settlement and began excavating the ground with reckless enthusiasm.

"Uncle Galon! The water needs to flow from high ground to low ground! That area is already lower than the settlement, so you do not need to dig much there!" Others ignored the route the water needed to follow and simply attacked the earth with brute force. All across the settlement, the orcs continued shoveling in every possible sense of the word. After nine years among them, Karath had expected exactly this outcome. He patrolled the different work sites and pointed out every mistake he discovered.

"You only need to dig this section like this." Drawing upon the shoveling and drainage construction techniques he had learned during two years of military service, Karath demonstrated the proper method and guided the workers.

"Yes, that is correct! Keep doing it that way!" Fortunately, after being corrected several times, the orcs gradually began to understand what they were supposed to do. Karath had felt the same thing many times before, but there was something strangely admirable about watching these seemingly ignorant orcs understand his instructions and follow them correctly. Perhaps this was how adults felt while raising children. Arnold had never had children in his former life, so Karath could not be certain.

Rain continued pouring from the sky with relentless force. The dozens of adult orcs paid it no attention. Beneath the moonlight, they worked without rest, using the shovels and their bare hands to excavate the ground. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Aside from the roar of the rain, the scene was almost completely silent. Karath stroked his chin as he watched them.

Performing simple, repetitive labor in such miserable conditions would inevitably cause their concentration and enthusiasm to fall. This was precisely the sort of situation that required a work song or military march. Unfortunately, Karath did not know any proper work songs. As for military songs, their lyrics usually involved charging through seas of artillery fire, risking their lives against the Soviet Union, or standing firm against the spread of communism.

Those lyrics were separated from the lives of these orcs by countless light-years. Then an idea struck him. He did not necessarily need a military song. There was already a cry that made orc blood boil whenever it was shouted, something capable of making them forget the hardship of their labor. Karath cleared his throat lightly.

"Rokta!" He shouted the opening cry with all his strength.

"Ogar!" The uncles around him responded instinctively without interrupting their work.

"Rokta!"

"Ogar!" Karath's calls and the adults' answers combined, filling the rain-soaked silence with sudden energy. That was more like it. Perhaps because his mood had improved, ideas began appearing one after another.

"While we work, we sing a military song! The song is The Tribal Banner!" Then Karath began singing lyrics he altered as they came to him.

"We guard this beautiful tribe, Living today with a warrior's pride! Against the claws of monsters we stand, For the peace of our parents and brothers! Brothers, our tribe is ours to defend! Beneath the tribal banner, We stake our lives!"

"Krahahahaha! That is good!"

"Of course! A tribe must be protected!" Grandfather Jark and the other adult orcs laughed with delight as they continued digging, apparently moved by the improvised song.

"Then we will begin again! While we work, we sing a military song! The song is The Tribal Banner!" The entire situation appeared insane. They were digging through mud beneath a torrential downpour in the middle of the night. Perhaps the absurdity of the situation had affected Karath. Perhaps his orc blood was beginning to boil amid the hardship. Whatever the reason, he was losing himself in the moment and shouting whatever entered his head.

Had Karath continued alone, he would probably have exhausted his excitement and stopped before long.

"Beneath the tribal banner, We stake our lives!" One after another, however, the surrounding orcs began joining the song. Memorizing the lyrics, melody, and rhythm of an unfamiliar song after hearing it once was not easy. It was even more difficult while rain poured down hard enough to drown out their voices. Military songs, however, did not depend upon singing ability, and this one did not possess a complicated melody or rhythm. The orcs repeated whichever sections they remembered.

Those who could not follow simply listened to Karath while continuing to dig. After the song had been repeated several times, everyone had memorized the lyrics.

"Rokta!"

"Ogar!"

"Rokta!"

"Ogar!"

"While we work, we sing a military song! The song is The Tribal Banner!"

"The Tribal Banner!"

"Begin!"

"We guard this beautiful tribe, Living today with a warrior's pride!" Beneath the torrential rain, Karath and the adult orcs continued digging without rest, repeatedly filling the night with their battle cries and military song.