Are You a Beastman Spy?

"I..." Malone stammered, then finally shook his head bitterly and said, "These are secrets. Miss Tiffany, I cannot tell you."

Tiffany drooped her head in disappointment. How she wished this benefactor who had saved her life was a heroic rogue, capable of scaling walls and leaping over rooftops like in the stories, to rescue her from this extremely dangerous orc camp.

However, Tiffany had been escorted by orc soldiers all the way here—which meant she had seen the dense masses of orcs outside the camp.

Even the most famous rogue couldn't move freely in such a camp, let alone take her with him.

"Then... Mr. Malone..." Tiffany asked with some sadness, "Are you a spy?"

"Huh? What? A spy?" Malone hadn't expected Tiffany to ask such a question.

"Yes..." Tiffany looked up, meeting Malone's eyes directly. "As a human, you appear in the orc camp and speak with them..."

Tiffany recalled the scene from before. Fear had made her forget many things, but it also allowed her to remember much.

"I've seen the ferocity and cruelty of those orcs, Mr. Malone. They didn't hesitate for a moment when they cut Richard in half, yet just now... whatever you did, they didn't seem to consider killing you. Is there some kind of deal between you and these orcs?"

Although Tiffany was a sheltered young lady, she had read many legendary novels. While the bards' depictions of war were often romanticized, they weren't entirely without value.

After all, more unbelievable things had happened in reality—even bards wouldn't have imagined that Stormwind would one day be breached by green monsters, leading to a river of blood.

"Mr. Malone!" Tiffany exclaimed loudly, "How could you do this? Don't you know... the orcs have captured Stormwind!"

"They did that to Richard, they did that to Mary..." Tiffany cried, her voice breaking into sobs.

"My parents, my family, and Uncle Tom, Aunt Scarlett... they are all in Stormwind. The orcs will surely... surely... Mr. Malone, how can you be a spy for the orcs? Don't you have a family?"

Tiffany wept. Although Malone had saved her life and her chastity, the young girl had been truly terrified during these past few days. All her negative emotions erupted at this moment, transforming into tears and resentment.

"No, no... Miss Tiffany, you've misunderstood," Malone quickly explained. "I am not an orc spy."

"You're not?" Tiffany lifted her head, her eyes blurry with tears.

"Although... some things are difficult to explain to you, and I don't know how to say them... but, Miss Tiffany, please believe me," Malone said with a serious expression. "I will take you away from here, and I absolutely will not let those orcs harm you."

"Please believe me," Malone repeated. At this moment, his heart was filled with pity for Tiffany.

When he used to play games, Malone had never considered matters of factions or conflicts; he was just playing a game, after all.

Now, being in the midst of it, personally witnessing the brutality of the orcs and Tiffany's weakness and despair, Malone gained a deeper understanding of this world.

Malone was very afraid of death. He desperately wanted to avoid the Bronze Dragon's patrols, perhaps out of loneliness, but to live alone, away from everyone.

However, that would be only after ensuring Tiffany's safety—though they had only just met and spoken a few words, this beautiful human girl had already conquered Malone. If she were a princess, Malone would gladly become a knight sworn to her service.

"Really?" Tiffany looked at Malone's sincere face, unsure if she should believe him.

"Perhaps you don't believe me yet..." Malone looked at Tiffany's face, knowing he couldn't explain why he was among the orcs. The girl's confusion was understandable.

"I will always protect you, Miss Tiffany. And tonight, I will take you away from here, away from the orc camp," Malone vowed, even though he hadn't figured out the specifics himself.

"I..." Tiffany desperately wanted to say, "I believe you," but those simple words, though on the tip of her tongue, somehow couldn't form into a sound.

For a moment, silence fell between Malone and Tiffany. Though the man and woman were so close in the orc camp, their hearts remained separated by a veil of gloom.

Just then, a faint sound of footsteps approached from outside the tent, growing louder.

Malone raised his head alertly, stood up, clenched his fists, and faced the tent entrance, shielding Tiffany behind him.

Tiffany also heard the footsteps. The human girl cowered like a startled bird, but when she saw Malone standing protectively in front of her, Tiffany felt a pang of regret.

Yes—whatever Mr. Malone's reasons, Tiffany believed he was forced to stay in the orc camp.

When she was very young, the old governess had told Tiffany bedtime stories: "Miss, a person's eyes never lie."

Tiffany had looked into Malone's eyes and felt he had no reason to deceive her—she wasn't a king or a princess; the orcs could gain nothing from her.

I must apologize to Mr. Malone later, Tiffany told herself—someone saved you, foolish Tiffany, and you suspected them of having ulterior motives. This is not what a kind person should do.

At this moment, Tiffany didn't consider one question—if the approaching figure was one of those evil orcs, why was she so certain Malone could protect her from the clutches of those savage enemies? Since when had she placed such immense trust in Malone?

"Who?" Malone, of course, was unaware of Tiffany's thoughts behind him—if he had known, he might have jumped for joy.

But for now, Malone's attention was entirely on the person about to enter the tent. He asked in a low Orcish voice.

"It's me." Teron Gorefiend lifted the canvas and stepped into the tent; in his right hand, he held a clay pot, from which steam was still rising.

"What's wrong?" Seeing Malone on high alert, Teron Gorefiend asked curiously—though his scarred face showed no discernible expression.

"Nothing, I thought it was someone else." Malone shook his head and stepped forward, intending to take the pot from Teron Gorefiend's hand.