<h4>Chapter 42: Water (1)</h4>


    Smoke rose from the vige in the distance.


    ckmore and the yers were stillughing among themselves while ying music. Only Crockta and Jeremy detected the faint cloud of smoke.


    ‘<i>It can’t possibly be trouble right from the start,</i>’ thought Jeremy as he caressed the hilt of his longsword hung from his waist.


    Doing so immediately calmed his nerves. He believed that regardless of what was going to happen, a single sword would be enough. After all, he was a swordsman whom even Derek acknowledged. Jeremy was a natural-born killer. Moreover, by his side was an old-fashioned orc warrior who was strong enough that even Derek paid attention to him.


    “Ahjussi, there’s smoke over there,” said the female yer.


    ckmore abruptly stopped ying his instrument.


    “What’s going on?” wondered ckmore.


    Smoke continued to rise from the vige. It intensified and filled the vige sky with ck fumes.


    ckmore’s expression stiffened. “Oh, no... There seems to be a fire. I need to run.”


    He fastened his instrument to his back and was about to run toward the vige when a yer tripped him. ckmore was unable to catch himself in time and ended up tumbling to the ground. This caused the tip of his instrument, which he had been carrying on his back, to shatter. Unable to get up off the ground, he moaned in pain.


    “W-What... Ugh...” groaned the startled ckmore.


    The yers snickered among themselves.


    “It must have already started, guys.”


    “I told them to wait for us.”


    “But we still have our share here.”


    Crockta couldn’t help but scowl at their conversation. Jeremy shrugged as if he had expected this all along and pulled out his sword.


    “Dude, I told you,” said Jeremy to Crockta. “This is why I hate those who have been cursed by the stars. These backstabbing jerks.”


    Then he winked at Crockta and added, “Of course, I will reserve my judgment about you for a little longer.”


    The yers approached Jeremy and Crockta. They were wary of the pair as thetter were armed, unlike ckmore. Furthermore, one of them was even an orc.


    “Is it okay even though he’s an orc?”


    “Just trust me.”


    All the yers pulled out their weapons. The sorcerer retreated and prepared to support from the periphery.


    “If it gets dangerous, we can just call for more support,” said the female yer, who had been friendly with ckmore. She grinned and added, “A1 to C4 is our territory anyways.”


    As Jeremy whistled, his longsword gleamed brilliantly under the sunlight. His longsword was smallpared to Crockta’s greatsword, but the amount of human blood its de had licked could form a small stream.


    “You guys, don’t you see how angry this orc is? Do you want to get punished? Do you want to bleed?” Jeremy joked around while assessing the distance between them.


    As he did so, he kept his movements light.


    Crockta gripped his greatsword and lowered his center of gravity. He gathered some momentum so that he could break through the yers in an instant. Crockta assessed that he could easily handle the humans lined up at the front, but he was concerned about the sorcerer at the back, who was already murmuring in preparation to activate a spell.


    <i>‘Sorcerers are always a pain in the butt.’</i>


    Crockta carefully looked for an opening to attack the sorcerer. However, his eyes widened right then. The sorcerer suddenly copsed to the ground soundlessly, revealing ckmore who had been standing behind him. When ckmore’s and Crockta’s eyes met, ckmore made a signal with his eyes, pointing out how the yers gathered at the front had yet to notice the sorcerer’s downfall. Having gotten the message, Crockta nodded and charged.


    “Bul’taaaarrrrr!” he shouted the battle cry of orc warriors, which had now be a habit for him, and rushed toward the yers with Jeremy in tow.


    Crockta lunged forward while swinging his greatsword. The force of his attack pushed the yers back, and Jeremy used their retreat to his advantage. Moving like the wind, he leaped from behind and dug his longsword into the throat of one of the yers.


    The startled yers screamed.


    “Sorcerer! Quickly use your magic! Why aren’t you doing anything?”


    “What are you doing? Do something!”


    When they turned around to look, their faces filled with despair. ckmore, whom none of the yers had been paying attention to, had knocked down the sorcerer and was looking at them with his foot on the sorcerer’s chest.


    The yers sensed their impending doom. In fact, they could already feel Crockta’s and Jeremy’s des on their skin. The yers’ heads were sent flying into the air.


    Crockta and Jeremy were too strong for the yers to handle. They weren’t just regr passersby or musicians. Instead, they just so happened to be a notorious swordsman from the back alleys of Anail, the city of runaways, and a true orc warrior, who had gained recognition from the hardship he’d experienced.


    The yers’ bodies began to turn white. This was the final moment for these people who had received the curse of the stars.


    After the yers dissipated, their equipment remained on the ground. Nothing looked extraordinary, so Crockta’s party left the equipment behind as they were in a rush to go to the vige.


    ckmore immediately began running, and Jeremy and Crockta took a quick nce at each other’s faces before following behind ckmore.


    The vige was in chaos. Multiple houses were burning down, and NPCs and yers were engaged in battle everywhere in the vige. ckmore looked around and then picked up a farming tool. He turned it into a cudgel by breaking off the top part of the tool, then he swung it into the air.


    Crockta’s and Jeremy’s eyes sparkled as they watched ckmore swing his cudgel. They could tell he was a skillful fighter from the way he wielded the makeshift weapon.


    After swinging the cudgel to reawaken his senses, ckmore dove into the battleground without looking back. Crockta and Jeremy joined the battle as well. All of the vige NPCs appeared to be farmers, but they were able to stand up to yers with their farming equipment. One by one, yers turned into white particles at the hands of the vigers.


    Crockta tilted his head in confusion as he shed a yer’s throat.


    The yers were strangely weak. He had asionally encountered yers of caliber, but most of the yers in the battle here seemed like they had only just begun ying <i>Elder Lord</i>. Not only were they weak, but they were easily scared, and most of them fled when they saw Crockta’s frightening appearance.


    “An orc!”


    “Run! There’s an orc!”


    “Run away! Escape!”


    “So fucking scary!”


    “A monster!”


    The yers quickly turned and fled.


    “....” Crockta didn’t even have a chance to fight them.


    Jeremy giggled and tapped on Crockta’s shoulder with his usual teasing attitude.


    He said, “Your face is quite something, but it’s not that scary, so don’t be too discouraged.”


    “Shut up,” Crockta retorted. He was about to turn away, but instead, he added, “I’m good-looking for an orc.”


    It was true.


    Crockta was a handsome orc. Back in Orcrox, female orc NPCs had hit on him multiple times. He had customized his face to be as scary as possible to tease his sister Yi-Yoo, but it was charming to fellow orcs.


    Jeremy burst out inughter.


    Then he asked, “Anyway, what’s going on? The cursed ones are arriving in groups and ambushing Chesswood, but they’re so weak.”


    Crockta looked at the yers’ equipment scattered on the ground. They were all trash, not even Common-tier equipment.


    “I have a rough idea of what’s going on,” said Crockta.


    Based on the poorbat abilities of the yers here and what the female yer from earlier had said about A1 to C4 being their territory, Crockta could surmise that the yers were taking advantage of Chesswood and repeating bad habits from online games. They wereying im on territories and dividing them up for yers to level up in. The yers were taking advantage of Chesswood’s unique regional trait of beingprised of small scattered viges, which also happened to be popted by farmers who were unustomed to battle.


    “ckmore! Has he returned for good?”


    “ckmore’s here?”


    Amotion arose among the vigers after the battle ended. They had discovered ckmore was present. However, this wasn’t the kind of wee Crockta had expected. It was quite the opposite.


    “He suddenly left, so why did he...”


    “I thought he was gone forever...?”


    They seemed to be shunning ckmore. Some vigers even spit on the ground in distaste as if ckmore was bad luck.


    ckmore just awkwardly fiddled with his broken instrument while lowering his head and staring at the ground.


    ***


    “Haha, ckmore, can’t believe you became a musician. Life is so unpredictable.”


    Crockta and Jeremy had ended up staying at ckmore’s uncle’s house. Ingram, ckmore’s uncle, had arge stature and was very tall. He seemed very strong.


    “Has Mr. Musician over here changed a lot?” asked Jeremy.


    “ckmore? This guy was aplete...” Ingram said, looking at ckmore and shaking his head, “...hooligan.”


    “Oh.”


    “I wasn’t that bad,” protested ckmore.


    “If a person who beats people up as a loan shark’s goon isn’t a hooligan or a gangster, then what are they?”


    “Well...” ckmore lowered his head and stared at the ground again.


    Jeremy, who was beside ckmore, couldn’t help but do the same.


    Crockta nodded in agreement with Ingram and then whispered to Jeremy, “Hooligan, gangster.”


    Jeremy grunted as he elbowed Crockta.


    “The only things he knew were how to do were fight and swing his spear. Well, there wasn’t much else to do in Chesswood,” said Ingram.


    “I didn’t do it that often,” refuted ckmore.


    “ckmore of Chesswood is notorious. They said he was merciless and emotionless.”


    It was a full moon that night. Ingram served his guests, two humans and an orc, his homemade beer. It was quite delicious.


    Crockta thought Ingram’s homemade beer did not pale inparison to the beer he had drunk at Orcrox.


    “I do regret my past,” admitted ckmore.


    “We didn’t hear anything from you after you left Chesswood. How did you be a musician?” asked Ingram.


    ckmore’s exnation was brief. After leaving Chesswood, he roamed around and traveled to various ces. He always had means to make money with his skills—be it as a mercenary, a soldier, or as a high-level guard. However, there had always been a sense of regret in his heart about how he earned money by causing other people pain.


    One day, he saw a musician ying an instrument at the pub in the inn he was staying at. The musician’s skills were mediocre, but peopleughed with joy as they watched him. Despite eating expensive food and staying in a much pricier room than the one the musician dwelled in, ckmore was miserable inparison. Thus, ckmore threw away everything and became a musician. That was ten years ago.


    “The most apathetic guy in the world ended up with the most sentimental job,”mented Ingram.


    ckmore smiled bitterly.


    “Even though you said it’s because of that musician, it’s actually because of her, right?” asked Ingram.


    “...” ckmore downed his beer.


    “How is she?” he asked.


    “She got married,” replied Ingram.


    “To who?”


    “He’s a decent guy.”


    “That’s all that matters then. Don’t say anymore.”


    ckmore seemed to have a heart-rending story from the past. His expression darkened, and Ingram, Crockta, and Jeremy stopped talking.


    Then ckmore quickly changed the topic, “Do the cursed ones keep reappearing?”


    “Yeah. It’s serious. We have requested help from the castle, but it takes a while,” Ingram answered.


    The viges had united to ward off the cursed ones’ attacks, but the continuous ambushes were putting a strain on them.


    Crockta wore a solemn expression. He was certain that yers had designated Chesswood as a hunting ground for them to level up in and that the ns had divided Chesswood among themselves.


    It was rare for NPCs with regr skill levels to form a district consisting of scattered viges without a strong connection. Additionally, there wasn’t even a professional security team like in other cities. These reasons made Chesswood the ideal hunting ground. Consequently, ns wereying im to thends and controlling territories to monopolize Chesswood.


    “All of the vige heads are gathering tomorrow to discuss a n,” stated Ingram.


    ckmore, who had been downing his beer, jumped up from his seat to air out the gloomy atmosphere.


    He said, “Anyway, Uncle, now that I’m a musician, I will sing for you. My instrument is broken though.”


    “Oh, did you write a song?”


    “Yes, it’s a song I wrote while reminiscing about Chesswood.”


    “I’m going to block my ears if it’s bad.”


    “Of course.”


    Then ckmore began singing. Unlike Ingram’s worries, the song had a nice rhythm to it, and it had a sad introduction that gradually became cheerful.


    The listeners pped along with the beat. Listening to the song made them feel as if they were excitedly running toward their hometown.


    “I’ve wandered through many ces in the world, always looking for something new. But I realized that what I’d been searching for was at the ce I’d known all along.


    “I sing under the moonlight with the rain pouring down on me. Oh! I am joyful, now that I’m back in my hometown! Under the sun, I stroll down a path with a bright smile. Ah! I am happy to be back!”