Blackstone

We walk, we walk, we walk all over the land.

We walk, we walk, from south to north and east.

We walk, we walk, we walk all over the land.

We walk, we walk, this time there ain't no end.

We walk, we walk, we walk all over the land.

Where's this? Dunno. We'll make it up when we get there...

At high noon, a huge mob of Orks strolled across the wilderness, singing a cheerful tune. Countless Snotlings and Squigs—or Jumpy, as they were also called—were mixed among them. At the very front of the procession was a fancy cart, by Ork standards, pulled by two fat, sturdy Squigs. A long wooden pole stood on the cart, flying a tattered black cloth and an Ork skull. A white handprint was stamped on the cloth, and beneath the banner stood a tall white Ork.

The former Black Fist Tribe had now been renamed the White Hand Tribe. As for where the name came from, it was merely because Guk had accidentally pressed his ash-stained hand onto a bedsheet while inspecting his property. Still, that was only one of the strange incidents the boys whispered about in private.

A few days ago, after Guk discovered that the water sources around the camp had nearly dried up, he immediately decided to move somewhere better. He then ordered the boys to gather a great deal of material—most of it from their old huts—and build a huge, impressive thing for hauling his personal belongings.

Never mind that it looked like it might collapse back into raw materials at any moment once it started moving. Just being able to stand on it was enough to make the boys envious. Their worship of their boss deepened further, and some had already begun looking for things they could use as dye, planning to paint themselves white.

"Phew. Damn this place."

Guk drained the water from his skin in one gulp and could not help cursing again. Unlike the cheerful boys, he was extremely restless. It was not only because he had not beaten anyone up in days; more importantly, this migration showed no end in sight. Though he had not bothered counting, he could still feel the cart growing lighter and lighter.

Food and water were being consumed at a rapid pace. Food was not yet a major problem, but even Orks would grow weak and collapse after going without water for too long. Especially in this weather, which was speeding up the evaporation of every drop of water that could evaporate.

"Crooked Mouth!" "Here! Boss! Here!" Guk grabbed the boy who had been closely following the cart and hauled him aboard, glaring at him viciously as he pointed ahead.

"Didn't you say there was a big mountain over there, with lots of water and food?" "Th-that, that wasn't me." Crooked Mouth shook his head nervously. "It was, it was some weird guy before. He liked talking to sticks. B-Boss Soros drove him away."

"But you were the one who told me!" Guk truly wanted to strangle this idiot on the spot. If not for the fact that he was the only one who could lend a hand when building the cart, Guk would have twisted his head right off.

"M-maybe it's already close." "No! There's nothing but rocks, sand, and those damned hairy beasts in the sky!" "I reckon maybe..." "B-Boss!" Suddenly, Crooked Mouth jumped like a Snotling with its arse on fire, wildly waving his right hand toward the front.

Turning to look, Guk saw what seemed to be a large force approaching in the distance. The dust they kicked up was like a sandstorm.

"Boys! Grab your choppas! We got fun!" Throwing all other concerns aside, Guk seized his polished broadsword and axe and let out a thunderous war cry.

"Ooooooh!" The boys behind him instantly erupted, grabbing every weapon they had at hand—or anything that could be used as one. Even the Snotlings that had been panting with their tongues out, barely clinging to life, perked up. Some eagerly climbed onto Squigs. Their charging roars even startled the Big Birds that had been circling overhead—the hideous Harpies—sending them scattering in all directions.

We charge, we charge, I'm biggest, I go first!

We charge, we charge, ain't scared of gettin' hurt!

We charge, we charge, I'm biggest, I go first!

We charge, we charge, fists hard as rock!

We charge, we charge, I'm biggest, I go first!

Move yer legs, stop yappin', boys, watch close!

Singing their war song at the top of their lungs, the two fierce-looking forces rapidly closed in. They did not stop until they could see each other's weapons, which was rather unusual for Orks.

"A white freak."

This was a group of Orks far larger than Guk's, at least twice as many. Their leader was an Ork boss with dark green skin, two heads taller than an ordinary boy. His gear made him a proper rich git: intact leather armor, a horned helmet, and a huge, serrated cleaver.

But these Orks did not seem to be in very good shape. Every one of them bore fresh wounds, and their boss was missing his left eye, leaving only a bleeding socket. There were also very few Snotlings left beside them.

"Ho ho, I think I smell the stench of losers."

Guk laughed loudly, a sinister expression spreading across his face. The boys behind him also began to make a racket.

"Shut up, freak! Once I chop off your head, you won't be laughing anymore!!"

"Yeah? Then come on."

Squinting at the boss and the boys behind him, Guk suddenly felt a powerful desire rise in his mind, even overpowering the thrill of battle. It was this very desire that had driven him to overthrow Soros. He did not know how to describe such a fierce impulse. Sometimes, at night, words he did not quite understand would surface in his mind—such as rule.

"Just you and me. The loser loses everything, and the winner gets everything. Dare to try, loser?" Slaughtering everyone might be exciting, but his mind chose another way.

"You're the loser!!!!"

The enraged boss roared and charged at him with his massive cleaver raised high. Guk bellowed and met him head-on.

With a loud clang, Guk forcefully deflected the rock-splitting blow with the axe in his left hand. The boss's momentum carried through, throwing his body off balance and forcing him to tilt sideways. Seizing the opening, Guk swung the broadsword in his right hand and accurately sliced at the opponent's tightly clenched hands.

"Roar!!!!!!" Even the strong boss could not endure the pain of losing both hands. But his roar did not last long. The sharp axe was already pressed against his neck. The icy touch made him want to shudder, but once his head left his body, that thought could never be fulfilled.

"Who! Else!" Silence fell. The boys' sluggish minds had not yet processed the moment the fight began before it was already over. Every Ork closed his mouth, leaving only Guk's roar echoing in the wind.

"Guk! Boss! Guk! Boss!" Crooked Mouth was the first to shout. He raised the stone-tied stick in his hand and yelled wildly, and the other boys immediately followed.

"Guk! Boss! Guk! Boss! Guk! Boss! Guk! Boss!"

A fervent air spread through the crowd. Guk looked at the ridiculous sight of the boys opposite him lowering their heads and keeping quiet, and felt somewhat displeased. He kicked the severed head into their midst, and they wisely began cheering along as well.

"Stop!"

After silencing the boys and glaring until every Snotling shut up and lowered its head, Guk walked over to the unfamiliar Orks, grabbed one of them, and asked, "Where are you from? What're you called?" "W-we're from Great Stone Heap. Th-those birds..." The boy he had grabbed stumbled over his words. "I didn't ask about birds!" Guk was thoroughly sick of this awful communication.

"Boss, he, he knows." Just as Guk shook that boy until he was nearly senseless, two boys came over carrying a somewhat skinny Ork between them.

"Then you talk." "I... yes!" The one they brought over turned out to be a "madboy"—the Orks' term for boys who wielded strange powers, according to him.

Their tribe had originally been called the Blackstone Tribe, because their old camp was a huge round rock riddled with tunnels dug by something unknown. There were also many black stones at the bottom, and digging into the soil beneath them could even bring up water. It was with these resources that their boss had managed to gather so many boys.

But that morning, Harpies had filled the sky and launched a surprise attack on their camp under the lead of a huge boss that could breathe fire. Most of the boys had died, and their boss had even had one eye clawed out. They could only flee in panic with the survivors.

"So, you ran away?" At Guk's words, an Ork carrying a stone hammer beside him shouted loudly.

"Course not, Boss! When we fight, we don't lose. Winning means winning, dying means dying. Dying don't count as losing. If we run, then we ain't dead, so we gotta come back and fight again! That's how it is, yeah."

"I'll be watching."

Calling Crooked Mouth over with the cart, Guk leaped onto it in a few strides. After gathering all the boys, he raised his broadsword and pointed toward the Blackstone Tribe's camp.

"A bunch of weak birds stole our stuff. What do we do!"

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

"That's right! Waaagh!!!!!!!!!!!"

Waaagh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In battle, Orks always moved faster than they shouted. Just as Shalis was directing her stupid underlings to throw the disgusting Greenskin corpses out of her new home, her adjutant flew in from outside in a panic. She was moving so fast that she could not stop, rolling several times across the ground as gray feathers drifted everywhere.

"Stop, idiot! Don't act like these bumpkins. Don't forget where you came from!"

"Y-your Grace! Or-Orks!" Though the other's rough tone displeased her, Shalis faintly smelled danger. It was precisely thanks to this intuition bestowed by the Beast God that she had narrowly escaped the struggle for the throne on the Blazing Plateau. Otherwise, as the fifth in line to the throne of the Harpy Kingdom, she would never have come to a place like this.

"Didn't the Orks already run away?" Shalis gently smoothed her bright, glossy red feathers with a hand covered in rings and gemstones, trying to hide her faint unease.

"N-no." Swallowing, Alaia, a lowly "grayfolk," deeply envied those royal feathers. Not to mention that her mistress was a renowned beauty in the kingdom. Unlike most Harpies, whose appearances leaned toward ugly, bestial forms, Shalis had a human face, a high nose, long eyebrows, vivid lips—most Harpies had beaks—and separate hands. Before her mistress, Alaia did not even dare glance at her own wings, which were joined with her arms.

"Then?" Noticing her adjutant's subtle inferiority, Shalis's mood could not help improving. After all, the only reason she had chosen Alaia in the first place was because she was the ugliest of all her servants.

"The Orks, somehow, they've come back to attack us!" "What!" Shalis cried out and instinctively took a step back, but quickly realized she had lost her composure.

"What's there to fear? This time, kill all those disgusting things! Gather all the bumpkins. We'll deal with them outside, or the house we just cleaned will get dirty again!"

"As you command, my mistress."

When Guk led the boys charging all the way to Guk Fortress—Guk's name for it—the enormous rock was already packed with gray Harpies.