【 SHALU’S CHOICE 】

Iron-rank and Silver-rank players who have capped their respective levels were having the time of their lives in the Desert of Death.

On the other hand, the orcs who had been regarded as wild mobs and the most lucrative ‘leeks’ by them were in a miserable situation.

This was especially true for the orc tribes in the northeastern region of the desert, near the Dark Mountain Range.

As the elves’ increasingly outrageous actions such as desecrating holy statues, enslaving orcs, and even allegedly devouring their corpses spread throughout the desert, the orcs became so fearful that they became utterly terrified.

Of course, the last claim about eating corpses was nothing more than a baseless rumor. No matter how extreme the players’ tastes, they weren’t that depraved—at least, not in that particular way.

The rumor likely stemmed from the eerie way slain orcs’ bodies mysteriously disintegrated into ashes, vanishing without a trace. Combined with the fact that players often gathered around open flames to roast meat, the imagination of those Orcs probably ran wild, twisting harmless campfire cooking into grotesque tales of cannibalistic feasts.

That being said, for the vast population of orcs, the two thousand or so evil elves stirring up trouble in the Desert were hardly enough to pose a serious threat to their race.

Yet, despite their small numbers, the elves were as persistent as swarming flies, tirelessly raiding orc settlements again and again.

Nevertheless, as long as the orcs remained vigilant, they could fend off the attacks. But the moment they let their guard down, the elves would strike, swift and merciless, like predators seizing a cracked egg.

Those larger tribes managed to hold their ground, but many mid-sized settlements had already been wiped out in this way.

By now, most players had already reached the level cap for Iron rank. Gaining more experience no longer helped them advance, though they could still stockpile it for when they secured a promotion slot to Silver rank or use it as a buffer to mitigate the penalty of losing a level upon death.

Because of this, many players became less interested in simply killing orcs and became more focused on looting their supplies, raiding their trade goods from Sauron, or even exploiting them for labor.

After all, these things could be converted into wealth.

And wealth meant better gear and more power.

In a sense, this was a bitterly ironic twist of fate for the orcs.

Once, they had hunted elves not just out of devotion to Uller, who feared the revival of the World Tree, but also because selling captured elves as slaves was immensely profitable.

But now, the tables had been turned.

The once-mighty hunters had become the hunted, their former prey now wielding overwhelming power.

To outsiders, the sheer psychological weight of this reversal was impossible to fully grasp. What had once been a cycle of conquest and exploitation had shattered, leaving the orcs trapped in the very nightmare they had once inflicted upon others.

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‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The Dark Mountains, Rivendell

Shalu grunted as he loaded the ores that he freshly mined onto a wheelbarrow. Then, after gathering his pickaxe, he carefully pushed the cart towards the exit.

He had been a miner for over half a month now.

During that time, he had been anxious and afraid, constantly dreading the elves’ sudden retaliation.

But as it turned out, these elves… really only needed them for mining.

Despite signing a slave contract, the elves barely paid them any attention.

They only cared about their labor.

Of course, what Shalu didn’t understand was that this was partly because the orcs’ brutish appearance simply wasn’t attractive enough by the players’ aesthetic standards.

They were a hostile race, unpleasant to look at, and not particularly powerful. Their only redeeming quality was their physical strength.

To the players, that made them little more than disposable labor.

Shalu, however, had come to accept his fate.

He still couldn’t forget the way those elves had laughed like demons as they slaughtered his fellow tribesmen.

Compared to those who had died at their hands, he considered himself lucky.

In his opinion, its better to live in humiliation like this than to die in vain…

Besides, as long as he obeyed them, he found that these elves surprisingly weren’t that difficult to deal with.

At the very least, each of them that were forced into labor were not deprived of food.

In fact, truth be told, the rations provided by the elves were actually even better than what he used to eat in the desert.

It only proved just how barren their homeland truly was.

Though it produced luxurious furs and gemstones, food was always scarce, just enough to keep from starving but never enough to truly be satisfied.

Back when the Elven Forest was under the control of the royal court, they could at least hunt within its borders to survive.

Even though many orcs found it difficult to adapt to the forest’s climate, and interference from the surrounding human kingdoms had sabotaged their efforts at every turn, they had clung to the hope of a new better homeland. Yet, despite their struggles and persistence, the plan to migrate there after the Thousand-Year War ultimately failed.

But at least back then, they had access to food…

Now, however…

The orcs have only two ways to improve their lives:

Either trade with humans or raid the surrounding human kingdoms to the east.

In contrast, the resources of the Elven Forest where the elves resided were on an entirely different level.

It was absurdly abundant.

Especially since many elves could use magic, and a good chunk of their population also specialized in nature-based spells, which could drastically shorten the time needed to harvest resources.

Although the influx of public-beta players had temporarily strained the food supply in the Elven Forest, the shortage was brief and quickly resolved.

Once a significant number of these new players learned nature magic, switched to the Druid class, and took an interest in farming, the situation changed rapidly.

Food production in the Elven Forest became so abundant that food became practically worthless, with surplus stockpiled in excess.

What was given to the orcs was merely the lowest-quality leftovers—rations so insignificant that most players didn’t even bother looking at them.

But Shalu knew none of this.

Carefully, he pushed his fully loaded wheelbarrow along the narrow mine path.

He was in a rather good mood today.

He had struck a rich vein and mined a significant amount of ores.

The elves were fair when it came to rewards and punishments. So the more ore he mined meant he got better rations, sometimes even meat.

Just thinking about it made Shalu’s mouth water.

Though he had been shocked to learn that elves also ate meat, he had to admit… they really knew how to prepare it.

The spices they used made it unbelievably delicious.

Of course, Shalu was unaware that the roasted meat provided to the orcs was actually just leftovers from two dragons.

With the growing number of players, more and more sought to offer roasted meat to Meryer and Tiberia in exchange for dragon scales and saliva.

But even with their massive appetites, the two dragons simply couldn’t keep up with the sheer volume of food being presented to them.

No matter how much they ate, there were always leftovers that once would have been discarded as fertilizer but were now being fed to the orcs.

Naturally, any trace of dragon saliva had already been carefully collected by players like the priceless treasure it was.

Shalu continued pushing his wheelbarrow forward.

Along the way, he passed other orcs moving back and forth.

Compared to when he had first arrived, there were now far more orcs from other tribes working in the tunnels.

In fact, Shalu suspected that the total number of orcs here in Rivendell’s mines might surpass even the peak population of his own tribe.

Just how many orcs had the elves captured as slaves?

Most of them still carried the hollow expressions of those whose faith had collapsed, their gazes vacant…

Yet, overall, they seemed to be in better condition than Shalu had expected.

He even noticed that some orcs had grown noticeably fatter compared to just half a month ago—a sight that left him with a strange, conflicted expression.

But on second thought, it made sense.

Although the elves forced them to mine endlessly, they didn’t resort to cruelty. Aside from collecting the ores mined each day, they rarely interacted with the orcs at all.

And the food they provided was actually quite decent.

In fact, to ensure the orcs had enough strength to work, the elves made sure they received ample rations—enough to sustain them, perhaps even more than they were accustomed to.

Only meat was given as a reward, distributed based on mining efficiency.

Even so, the fact that they were being fed consistently was already an improvement for some of the smaller, impoverished tribes, many of which had struggled to eat even one proper meal a day.

As a result, some orcs who had previously been malnourished due to their weak tribal standing had actually put on some weight.

Of course, this improvement applied only to their food supply.

Shalu still preferred the open skies of the desert over the eternal darkness of the mines.

But in their world, where strength dictated everything, those who were defeated had no right to complain.

As losers, they had already lost their place and simply surviving in the aftermath was a stroke of fortune and the only mercy they could still grasp.

Compared to what could have happened, his current life was a blessing.

Letting out a deep sigh, he quickened his pace, looking forward to tonight’s roasted meat.

But as he walked forward, Shalu suddenly slowed down.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a side tunnel where a group of over ten orcs and humans had gathered.

They were whispering urgently, their expressions filled with determination and anger.

Ah, it was those same restless fools.

Shalu shook his head.

Despite the elves treating them far better than expected…

Despite many orcs having lost their faith and being unable to return to their past…

There were still those who refused to accept enslavement and were dead set on escaping.

Especially since there weren’t many elves guarding them, and the shifts changed regularly, giving some the illusion that escape was possible.

In truth, the elves did appear astonishingly lax in their guard.

They didn’t seem the least bit concerned about any of their prisoners escaping, or perhaps the thought had never even crossed their minds to begin with.

Not only did they fail to assign powerful wardens to watch over them, but they also freely handed out iron pickaxes, which can be considered dangerous tools in the wrong hands, without hesitation.

Naturally, this emboldened many prisoners, stirring their restless desire for freedom.

Were they planning to take down the elven guards and make a run for it?

Shalu shook his head.

Setting aside the fact that they had all been forcibly bound by slave contracts which would severely punish any attempt at resistance, if not outright kill them, he doubted those planning to escape would ever succeed anyway.

“Escape? Heh, Impossible… because they have no idea what’s really watching over us.”

From a distance, he watched the reckless group and murmured to himself.

He had once dealt with Andris, a mid-rank caravan leader from Sauron, and frequently gathered information from him.

Andris had once confided in him a chilling secret about these elves…

According to his findings, the elves had apparently deployed a terrifyingly powerful legendary beast during the Underground War:

A Crypt Spider Queen.

And after arriving here, Shalu had begun to notice the unsettling signs of its brood—crypt spiders lurking in the abandoned tunnels, their many eyes gleaming in the darkness, always watching their every move.

Piecing this together with the rumors Andris had shared onto him, the elves’ lack of proper guards, and a conversation he had once overheard while transporting ores, Shalu came to a chilling realization…

The real warden of these mines was not the elves on guard but those crypt spiders.

Or rather, the entity controlling them—

That terrifying, legendary-ranked spider queen.

What he had overheard that day was an elf grumbling about how a portion of the mined ore had to be handed over to someone named ‘Rose’ the Spider Queen as payment for keeping watch over them, the prisoners.

“A legendary-rank beast…”

Shalu shuddered, cold sweat breaking out across his skin.

The thought that such a terrifying creature was lurking within these tunnels, silently watching over them, sent chills down his spine.

At the same time, he was struck by the sheer depth of the elves’ power.

Casting one last glance at the conspiring prisoners, Shalu shook his head and continued forward.

“They’re just a bunch of fools.”

None of them were from his tribe.

Their fate meant nothing to him.

The Orcs as a race weren’t united—not even close.

If they had been, given their natural combat prowess, they wouldn’t have been confined to the Desert of Death for so long.

Not to mention, now that he knew a legendary beast was silently watching them from the shadows, he had no intention of getting involved in their plans to escape.

If things went south, being mistaken as an accomplice would be the end of him.

Shaking his head once more, Shalu quickened his pace.

A few minutes later, he finally emerged from the mine.

The moment he stepped outside, he saw the familiar figures of the elves.

But today, there were more people than usual.

It wasn’t just the usual elves, there were also some dark dwarves among them, chatting and laughing as if they were longtime allies.

Behind them, Shalu spotted more than a hundred orcs.

Like he had been when he first arrived in Rivendell, these orcs were bound with ropes, their eyes empty and lifeless, as if they had just suffered a devastating psychological blow.

Having experienced it himself, Shalu instantly understood what happened.

These were likely the new batch of captured prisoners.

Looking at their vacant expressions… these guys had also likely undergone the same ordeal that forced them to abandon their faith.

However, Shalu also noticed something odd…

Their dazed expressions seemed even worse than his had been when he first arrived.

It was as if their faith had been shattered even more completely.

What had they gone through?

Not only that, but they looked thinner than the orcs working in the mines.

As if they had been specifically selected.

For a moment, Shalu felt a newfound sense of awe toward the elves.

Seeing the elves conversing with the dwarves, he hesitated, choosing to wait at a distance rather than approach recklessly.

Their voices, however, echoed off the mine walls and reached his ears.

“Hahaha! Brother Demacia, the orc slaves you sold us last time were great! Never thought I’d see the day when you elves actually get involved in the slave trade!”

That was the dark dwarf speaking.

“Heh heh heh, same to you, brother! We’re all just making profit here! This batch of orcs is just as good—take a look, take a look!”

That was the elf, laughing cheerfully.

So… they were selling these prisoners to the dark dwarves.

Shalu’s expression grew complicated.

Suddenly, he felt lucky.

The underground world was a far more chaotic place and he couldn’t even begin to imagine what would happen to those sold into slavery there.

Meanwhile, the elves and dwarves continued their conversation.

Upon hearing the elf named Demacia speak, the dark dwarf glanced at the orcs, frowning slightly.

“They look fine… but they seem a little out of it. And weaker than usual.”

“Ah, brother, you don’t know the half of it!” The red-haired elf grinned excitedly. “These orcs are different from the ones we sold you before. Their faith has been completely erased—that’s why they look so dazed. As for their weakness, well, that’s just a side effect of losing their faith!”

“Is that so?”

The dwarf muttered skeptically.

“It is.”

The elf nodded with exaggerated solemnity.

Shalu: “…”

He opened his mouth but said nothing, feeling as though this elf had just shattered his understanding of the world yet again.

Did he really just say that with a straight face?

The dazed expressions were indeed a result of having their faith wiped out… but their physical weakness? That was entirely due to their own condition.

It was obvious this elf was just trying to unload the weakest orcs onto those dwarves.

The two continued their negotiations for a while, and eventually, the dwarf finally relented.

“Alright, brother Demacia,” the dwarf sighed. “How much do you want for them?”

But this time, the elf suddenly shook his head, grinning mischievously.

“No, no… this time, I don’t want gold coins. I want to make a different kind of deal with you.”

The dwarf raised an eyebrow. “What kind of deal?”

“Well… I’ve heard that you have some business connections in the Dark City. So… I was wondering if you could get me some statues of the Lord of Darkness and Shadows, the kind that’s been properly sanctified.”

The dwarf: “…”

His expression twisted in shock.

“What do you need those for?! Isn’t Her Majesty Eve enemies with the Dark Lord?!”

He instinctively took a step back, his voice incredulous.

“Ahem. It’s not for worship, of course,” the elf coughed. “Let’s just say…I’d really appreciate it if you can get your hands on some. I hear there are plenty of weak underground monster tribes in the Dark City’s territories that still follow the Dark Lord. It shouldn’t be too hard to… take a few statues from them, right?”

The elf flashed a knowing smile.

The dwarf: “…”

His expression shifted multiple times before he finally muttered, “I… I’ll see what I can do. These things are extremely sensitive. Only someone like me whose a faithless black-market dealer would even consider getting involved in this kind of trade.”

“Heh heh, much appreciated brother. I’m looking forward to us working together more in the future!”

Their conversation finally wrapped up.

But Shalu, who had overheard everything, was left even more bewildered.

Why would the elves want statues of the Lord of Darkness and Shadows?

He didn’t know their intentions.

But a thought struck him.

Turning back toward the mine, his expression shifted.

“Not that it matters to me either way,” he murmured under his breath.

Then, as if making up his mind, Shalu clenched his teeth, gripped his wheelbarrow, and stepped forward.

Approaching the elves, he forced a smile.

“Master Elf! Here are the ores I mined today—please inspect them!”

Then, his expression turned serious as he remembered the conspiring group of prisoners earlier.

“Also… I have some important information to report.”

— 503 —

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