Chương 66: Chapter 65 A Mother’s Pride

"Ghhh..." When Karath regained consciousness, the first thing he felt was not relief at being alive. It was the terrible pain spreading through his entire body. A groan escaped him as he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was his mother's face looking down at him with worry filling her eyes.

"Karath!"

"How long was Karath unconscious?" He barely managed to ask the question through the worst pain he had experienced since being reborn as an orc.

"Haa..." Delina released a deep sigh. It was a surprisingly human reaction for an orc.

"It has already been a week." During that week, she had done everything possible to care for her son. It reminded her of Karath's infancy, when he had nearly died several times. She never wanted to experience that fear again.

"A whole week... Then the drake must be dead." Karath stopped halfway through the question as the final scene before his collapse returned to him. The drake's head had exploded into the most grotesque fountain imaginable. If it had survived even that, the situation would have belonged in a horror film. However, Delina sitting beside him meant nothing so absurd had occurred.

"Yes. Everyone followed your order and withdrew toward the rear gate, so Delina did not see everything clearly. However, the drake's head had burst apart, and the entire area around the well was devastated. What kind of shamanic art did you use?" Delina had often seen shamans exhausted after performing rituals. She had never seen someone reduced to the edge of death after using a single technique. She clearly had much she wanted to say.

"Haa... Forgive Delina, Karath. Resting comes first." After looking down at her son lying helplessly on the floor, she pushed the question aside. The condition in which the tribe had found Karath beside the drake's corpse had been far too severe.

"Still, the tribe killed that enormous monster because of you. Everyone outside is calling you a hero." She added the words in an attempt to encourage her wounded son.

"First Delina's husband, and now her son, has become a hero of the village. Delina must be a truly fortunate orc. But..." Her expression became difficult to read.

"Delina cannot feel only happiness, my son." At that moment, she looked less like an orc and more like what she truly was. A mother. In the past, Delina had been an ordinary orc who believed dying to protect the settlement was the greatest honour a warrior could achieve. That was why she had always spoken proudly of Garthon's death. When she first learned that Karath had lured the drake away from the village, she had repeated to herself that his actions were worthy of pride.

As the days of his disappearance increased, however, that pride weakened. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Grief and longing replaced it. When Karath returned on the fifth day, Delina realised she had been wrong. Her son living without honour would bring her far greater happiness than his death as an honoured warrior. Only one month later, Karath had nearly died again. Her maternal instincts had now reached their limit.

"Heh. Karath will be more careful next time." As though understanding the change within her heart, Karath deliberately responded like a small child despite the true age of his mind.

"Yes. Rest properly for the next few days. Everyone wants to see you, but Delina will not allow anyone inside until you recover."

"Yes, Mother. Thank you."

"You only call Delina Mother at times like this."

"Keh." Karath laughed awkwardly at her scolding. Fifteen days passed quickly beneath Delina's devoted care. As she had promised, not a single tribesperson entered the house during Karath's recovery. Many came to the door after hearing that the drake slayer had awakened. None succeeded in entering. Karath could not see what happened outside, but Delina had probably driven everyone away with an exceptionally murderous glare.

Judging from the voices that passed through the door, even Chief Grild and Elder Jark had visited. Delina showed them no mercy. The power of maternal love was truly terrifying. Under the protection of that great force, Karath's body stabilised rapidly. His condition had been severe, yet he recovered completely in only three weeks, including the first week he spent unconscious. The physical resilience of orcs continued to amaze him. His recovery produced more than healed wounds.

"As expected. The absorption rate has increased." The amount of mana entering his body with each breath had risen dramatically. Karath suspected that using the mana stone to create the waterjet cutter had greatly increased his body's sensitivity to mana. Sensing and gathering it had both become much easier. Perhaps the pathways through which mana travelled had grown stronger, just as torn muscles became more durable after healing.

That did not mean Karath intended to repeat the process in an attempt to improve them further. Looking back, the entire act had been madness. He had manipulated a quantity of mana far beyond what his body could endure. Survival had been a matter of luck. His body might have exploded before he killed the drake. The event had ultimately become a blessing by improving his ability to gather mana, but Karath had no desire to attempt it again. Naturally, he might have no choice if the settlement faced another crisis.

There was also the minor problem that the mana stone no longer existed, making another attempt impossible even if he wanted one. Thanks to his increased sensitivity, Karath's mana reserves were growing quickly. With a little more accumulation, he believed he would be able to use Third Circle spells without difficulty. Reaching the Fourth Circle would still require time. The difference in mana required between each level was considerable. Even so, Karath should continue studying the theory.

Now that his body had recovered, he considered returning to the underground laboratory. He left the house.

"Karath!"

"Have you completely recovered?"

"Krahahaha! The hero has finally emerged!" Gerina noticed him first near the house. Her shout drew every nearby orc toward him.

"You protected the village with the shamanic art left by the ancestors!"

"Karath must truly be the treasure the ancestors sent to save the Bloodclaw Tribe! Krahahaha!"

"Krahahaha! Karath, half your body has disappeared!" While the rest of the tribe praised him as the hero who protected the settlement, Kaden approached and immediately spoke nonsense. Since he was the only warrior remaining in the village, today was probably his rest day.

"Kaden! Karath became thin because he pushed his shamanic power too far!"

"That is right! How can you say such a thing to the warrior who protected the village?"

"Even if he has lost weight, he is still our hero!" Karath fell silent. The tribespeople defended him, but their choice of words did not make him feel any better.

"Has Karath truly become that thin?"

"Yes. Your body has almost been cut in half."

"It cannot be helped. You used the great shamanic art left by the ancestors."

"It was powerful enough to kill that terrifying drake. Of course his body would end up like that!" What exactly did they mean by like that? Feeling increasingly uneasy, Karath pushed through the crowd and approached the well. The repairs had already been completed during his recovery. The shattered stone barrier and the remains of the drake had disappeared, and the well had returned to its original appearance. Karath looked at his reflection in the water. Only then did he understand. His muscle loss was severe.

The enormous and heavily muscled body he once possessed had disappeared. In its place was a balanced, athletic physique that people on Earth would have considered exceptionally attractive. By human standards, it might have been the ideal body, especially for attracting romantic interest. However, Karath's mind had already been thoroughly corrupted by orc standards. He looked like nothing but a scrawny weakling. What were these thin arms that looked ready to snap if a troll touched them?

"Krahahaha! From today onward, Kaden will claim the title of the village's strongest warrior. Karath can remain the greatest shaman." While Karath silently mourned his weakened appearance, Kaden approached and provoked him again. Comparing his reflection with Kaden made the difference even more obvious. Kaden, called a half-ogre because of his size and strength, now looked nearly twice as large as Karath. Kaden had always been bigger, but the difference had never been this humiliating.

Karath had already spent a month inside studying magic after returning from the underground laboratory. Then he spent another three weeks lying down. The resulting muscle loss had been catastrophic. Training would begin today. Karath needed to recover what he had lost. Only then could he crush the face of that irritating Kaden.

Karath's technique was still superior, but striking Kaden with arms this thin, although they remained as thick as those of a trained human athlete, would probably only make him look mildly amused.

"Kaden, stop harassing Karath because you failed to kill the drake yourself."

"T-that is not what Kaden is doing!" The women in the settlement continued defending Karath. Judging from Kaden's suddenly red face, Gerina's accusation had struck the truth.