【 LACKEY 】

“You have some important information to report?”

Hearing the orc Shalu’s words, Demacia’s eyes lit up with interest. He narrowed his gaze slightly and added:

“Okay, let’s hear it.”

A sly grin spread across his face, and his expression showed a flicker of amusement.

Shalu hesitated for a moment before pointing in the direction he had just come from.

“Master, on my way here, I saw a group of orcs gathered together, discussing something…”

As he spoke, he relayed everything he had observed about the group and his assumptions.

After listening to Shalu, Demacia looked at him with mild surprise, his tone filled with curiosity.

“So… you’re saying you noticed some prisoners who are dissatisfied with us and are planning to rebel and escape?”

His expression didn’t carry the slightest hint of anger at the possibility of a slave uprising. Instead, Shalu noticed something familiar in his gaze…a look he had often seen on these elves whenever they wreaked havoc across the Desert of Death.

It was the gleam of someone who had found the whole thing entertaining. It was akin to a look of someone who had just stumbled upon an amusing new toy.

This realization made Shalu’s breath hitch.

He had long suspected that these elves were strange and terrifying, but now, his suspicions were only growing stronger.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded.

“Yes. Earlier, they were trying to rally others to join their cause. They even approached me, but I refused.”

Demacia chuckled lightly and nodded in acknowledgment.

“Heh… Interesting.”

He gave Shalu a slow, deliberate once-over, scanning him from head to toe. Under that sharp gaze, Shalu instinctively tensed, lowering his head respectfully to show submission.

“….What’s your name?” Demacia asked.

“Master, my name is Shalu,” he answered deferentially.

As soon as he finished speaking, he felt a firm hand clap down on his shoulder. At the same time, Demacia’s signature teasing voice rang out:

“Shalu, huh? Hmm… Not bad! I like you. As a reward, your rations will include meat every day from now on.”

Shalu’s eyes widened in delight, his expression lighting up with joy.

Meat every day!

Becoming a slave was already a fate sealed in stone. At this point, the only thing he had left to look forward to each day was the possibility of a delicious roasted meal… ŘἈ𝐍ŏ฿Ёs̩

Having lived for so many years, Shalu didn’t possess many exceptional abilities, but he had always been remarkably adaptable.

“Thank you, Master!” he said excitedly.

Just as he was expressing his gratitude, Demacia suddenly paused, his smirk deepening. His voice took on an amused lilt as he asked:

“But tell me… I’m curious. Why did you choose to report this to me instead of keeping quiet and helping them cover it up? After all… they are your own people. We, on the other hand, are your enemies, aren’t we?”

Shalu froze, a flicker of unease passing through him.

After a moment of silence, he decided to be honest.

“I think there’s no point… They won’t be able to escape anyway.”

He shook his head.

“No point, you say? Why? As you can see, there isn’t that many guards watching over this place. Honestly, if you all truly worked together, escaping wouldn’t be impossible,” Demacia mused, shaking his head as well.

“But… we’ve all signed the slave contract. If we resist, we’ll suffer a severe backlash. And even if we somehow endure it, there’s no way we’d escape the pursuit of a far stronger being.”

Shalu let out a bitter chuckle.

After speaking, he sighed.

“I know the truth…the one’s guarding the mines aren’t just you elves. There are also those crypt spiders everywhere… and the legendary-rank being behind them.”

Demacia gave him a surprised look, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh? You seem to know quite a bit about us.”

Shalu coughed lightly before replying with humility.

“Well… I used to be a priest in my tribe. I also often interacted with human merchant caravans and gathered information from time to time. So, I have some understanding of the elves’ real strength.”

This time, Demacia was genuinely shocked.

“What?! You… used to be a priest?!”

His eyes widened as he once again examined Shalu from head to toe, his expression filled with astonishment.

“A priest actually abandoned his faith, became a captive, and is now even snitching on his own kind? That’s… quite the betrayal you’re doing my guy….It’s faster than even I expected. Weren’t priests supposed to be the stubborn, die-hard types? I thought you clerics just rather fight to the death.”

He muttered under his breath.

At that moment, another elf nearby cleared his throat and leaned in to whisper into Demacia’s ear.

“Uh, Brother Demacia… I forgot to mention this earlier, but our guildmaster was the one who captured this orc, and he surrendered without even putting up a fight.”

“Your guildmaster?”

Demacia glanced at the speaker.

The one who had spoken was a player from Moe Moe Committee and their guildmaster, of course, was none other than Little Salty Cat.

“No wonder, no wonder… I think she mentioned something about this once, but I must’ve forgotten about it.”

Demacia nodded, a look of realization crossing his face.

He had indeed heard that Salty Cat once captured a rare “pseudo” priest—an orc who, despite supposedly being a Silver-ranked priest, had only the faith of a shallow believer.

In the end, this priest supposedly had even abandoned his faith entirely and become a slave.

Now, it seemed that very orc was standing before him.

“A priest, huh… If I remember correctly, every orc priest had some experience managing tribal affairs.”

He muttered to himself.

As if struck by a sudden thought, Demacia chuckled again, his eyes scanning Shalu once more.

As a Silver-ranker, Demacia’s gaze was sharp and piercing.

Under such scrutiny, Shalu, whose strength had long since fallen to the mid-Iron rank, grew even more tense. He bowed his head deeply, his posture trembling with apprehension.

Several seconds passed before Demacia finally spoke again.

“Shalu, was it? Tell me… would you be interested in becoming a supervisor?”

“A…supervisor?”

Shalu blinked in confusion.

Demacia grinned and elaborated.

“Heh, it means managing your fellow prisoners on our behalf. Overseeing their daily tasks and reporting any unusual movements to us.”

“If you accept, you’ll get meat with every meal. Moreover, as long as you keep the laborers working efficiently and obediently, you won’t have to mine at all. Of course, if there are any troublemakers you can’t handle, you’ll need to report them to us immediately… Like you did just now. That was very good.”

“In short, you’ll be the leader of all the slaves, serving as our liaison.”

“But of course if you fail in your duties… there will also be some consequences.”

As Demacia spoke, he maintained a smile, his gaze fixed on Shalu.

Cowardly, opportunistic, quick-witted, and with prior management experience—this orc had the perfect qualities for a lackey.

If there was one thing that dissatisfied him, though, it was that someone who could betray his own people so easily would just as easily betray his new masters when the opportunity arose.

Shalu was a selfish survivor—loyal to nothing but himself.

This kind of person couldn’t be fully trusted.

The moment it suited him, he would certainly turn on anyone.

In a way, that made him a dangerous individual.

However, as long as power remained in the right hands, controlling a turncoat like this was easy. If he could be used properly, he could save them, the players a lot of trouble.

Having played this game for so long, Demacia’s mindset had changed from when he first started.

Although his propensity for being reckless still hadn’t faded, he no longer saw these characters as mere NPCs that were stringently following lines of code.

The fact that he now considered an NPC’s psychology and predicting their actions as if they were real people was proof of that.

It was also a sign of how many players had truly integrated into Elven Kingdom, blurring the lines between game and reality.

After explaining, Demacia looked at Shalu once more.

“So? What do you say? Will you accept the position?”

Shalu hesitated at first, then his face lit up with excitement.

“I… I accept!”

Gaining the elves’ trust meant securing his future. Of course, he would accept!

Seeing Shalu willingly submit, Demacia was satisfied.

Of course, no matter how respectful the orc seemed, he knew this wasn’t true loyalty.

In fact… if the players left him unchecked, there was no telling what might happen if he managed to consolidate his influence over the other orcs.

However, with Rose keeping things in check, an uprising wasn’t likely to happen, but it would still be a hassle to deal with if it actually occurred.

Fortunately, he already had a plan in mind.

Once this matter was settled, he would have players skilled in disguise and transformation magic infiltrate the prisoners and spread the news that Shalu had willingly defected to the elves.

This would ensure that the rest of the prisoners would despise Shalu from the bottom of their hearts.

With that in mind, regardless of his original intentions, Shalu would be completely alienated from his own kind.

At that point, his only option would be to cling to them, oppress his fellow slaves, and continue down this path as their lapdog.

At the same time, this would serve to divide other orcs who might have similar inclinations to defect.

Heh… As long as the orcs remained divided, as long as they fought amongst themselves, them the players would always have the upper hand.

“Alright, leave your mining cart here. This is your dinner! Look, a generous portion of meat. Congratulations, you’re officially the supervisor of this mine starting tomorrow. The crypt spiders will cooperate with you.”

Demacia announced.

“Thank you, Master!”

Shalu was overjoyed and bowed repeatedly in gratitude.

He took his bowl of food and received a large slab of roasted meat. Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled deeply, his expression intoxicated by the rich aroma.

It had been so long since he had seen such a large piece of meat!

His tribe had always been small, with limited resources. The last time he had eaten such a large cut was when his people hunted a beast in the Dark Mountains and offered the best portion to him as their priest.

But as he stared at this so-called reward, his joy slowly faded.

Suddenly, he thought of his fellow tribesmen.

He also remembered the elder who, after being captured, had refused to abandon his faith and chose to smash his own head against a rock instead.

He recalled the warriors who had fought to the bitter end, only to perish beneath the elves’ blades…

At the same time, images flashed through Shalu’s mind, scenes of the other orc slaves secretly inviting him to join their escape plan.

For a moment, his expression grew complicated, with his face clouded in hesitation.

“What is it? Something else on your mind?”

Demacia asked again.

Shalu shook his head but hesitated, his expression shifting several times before he finally gave a slight nod.

“What is it? Do you have more to report?”

Demacia frowned.

“N-no… it’s not that…”

Shalu shook his head again.

He glanced back at the mine, his face troubled.

Then, as if steeling himself, he clenched his jaw and cautiously asked,

“Master… I wanted to ask… what do you plan to do with the orcs who intend to rebel?”

“Hm?”

Demacia was taken aback by the question.

He narrowed his eyes and studied Shalu closely.

“Oh? Do you have a suggestion?”

Under Demacia’s sharp gaze, a chill ran down Shalu’s spine. He had never imagined that he would one day fear an elf…

Taking a deep breath, he carefully replied,

“Well… Master, I was thinking… Even if they resist, you know as well as I do that they’re bound to fail. So… perhaps they could be given a chance…”

“Oh? But weren’t you the one who snitched on them? Are you regretting it now?”

Demacia chuckled.

At his words, Shalu’s expression dimmed.

Regret?

He wasn’t sure.

He didn’t even know why he suddenly felt compelled to plead on their behalf.

He had originally intended to step over the corpses of those orcs from other tribes to gain the elves’ trust.

Their survival had nothing to do with him, so why should he care?

Yet now, as he finally stood on the verge of securing the elves’ favor, he found himself hesitating.

How ridiculous.

Everything that had led to this moment had been his doing.

And yet…

Sigh…

He didn’t even understand himself anymore.

After a brief silence, Shalu let out a bitter laugh and murmured,

“I don’t know… I just… I just don’t want to see more Orcs die anymore…”

The moment he said it, he felt hypocritical.

And at the same time, unease crept into his heart.

Would these elves be angered by his words?

To his surprise, Demacia only chuckled and replied,

“Sure. As long as you can persuade those rebels to settle down and work, then we won’t pursue the matter any further.”

Hearing this, Shalu let out a breath of relief.

But then, he blinked in confusion and pointed at himself.

“M-Me?”

Demacia nodded.

“That’s right. You’re the one who brought this up, so naturally, you’re the one responsible for resolving it, right? If you succeed, everyone wins.”

Then, after a brief pause, his tone took on a more ominous edge.

“But if those rebels push things too far… well, I won’t make any promises about what happens next.”

He patted Shalu’s shoulder, grinning meaningfully.

“Do your best, Mr. Shalu.”

With that, he stored the ores in his inventory and left with the other elves, leaving Shalu standing there, stunned.

For a long moment, Shalu remained frozen, holding his food bowl in a daze. Then, as if suddenly snapping out of it, he turned and hurried back toward the mine.

His figure disappeared into the darkness.

༺⟐༻

Demacia left Rivendell after completing his trade with the Dwarves.

As he walked along the way, he reflected on that pseudo orc priest he had just met.

“Looks like there are quite a few turncoats among the orcs…”

“But regret, huh? Seems like that Orc still has a bit of a conscience within him. He’s not a complete turncoat, nor is he truly ruthless. Hmm… That actually makes him more valuable.”

“I have a feeling… I might be able to find another way to deal with the orcs.”

“There’s more than one way to solve a problem. It doesn’t always have to be bloodshed… Heh heh heh…”

As if struck by an amusing thought, he chuckled to himself, his expression turning sly.

The other players walking beside him twitched at the sight of his obscene snickering, their faces contorted in discomfort.

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