NOVEL SIMPLE 065 – She, Who Acknowledge Them As Her Allies
Near the demon realm was the village of Sutin, where Montego and other orcs lived. I remember being surprised to see them cultivating wheat there.
Montego once said:
"There were rough orcs, but those types were eliminated in conflicts with other species. Only the peaceful ones like us naturally survived."
In a world of beasts, Montego and his kind would likely have been driven out. There's a theory that wild animals don't exterminate other species due to some natural balance, but the reality is simple: overhunting leads to their own hardship.
If desperate, they would likely hunt everything to extinction despite the consequences. Thus, if overhunting posed no immediate problem, beasts wouldn't consider conservation. They wouldn't care if it didn't affect them later.
Beastmen are different. They're not foolish enough to kill producers like Montego's group without reason. Beastmen don't eat other beastmen. Or do they? Maybe they do, but not exclusively.
In any case, aggressive orcs vanished simply because they were aggressive—though there are exceptions.
The Beast King Randall's royal guard included a Boar Orc.
"That's how I ended up challenging Lord Randall. Surviving meant he went easy on me. He said orcs like us are rare. Then he told me to join his ranks," recounted Zonda Pauga, the Boar Orc chieftain.
We were on a grassland slightly north of the capital, near a small forest and a river. It's a convenient location, close enough to return to the capital quickly. As we sat by a campfire, roasting a herbivore we had caught, I, Euphemia Grimwood, listened to Zonda's story.
Montego's orc tribe had almost no body hair, with healthy pink skin, standing between two to three meters tall. They had gentle, endearing eyes like tame animals.
In contrast, Boar Orcs had body hair—coarse, blackish fur covering their entire bodies, including their heads. If regular orcs were pig-like, Boar Orcs were akin to wild boars, looking much stronger.
Laughing heartily, Zonda Pauga, the chieftain, tore into the still-rare meat. He was part of Randall's beastmen guards and was uninvolved with the schemes of Brandon Kruger or Lex Asuka.
Around us were several of Zonda's Boar Orc subordinates, a female werewolf beast warrior named Lil Ligrill who had followed us for some reason, and Luche Rubia, the rabbit beastman, maintaining her usual cautious distance.
This time, my focus was on interacting with Zonda, so Lil and Luche kept mostly quiet unless needed.
Zonda didn't seem to mind this at all.
"Lady Euphemia, you're impressive. I couldn't do it. I was beaten, crawling, barely allowed to live. But you? You got the Beast King's approval while laughing."
He handed me a piece of rare meat. After some thought, I took a bite. The taste was very wild, but not bad.
In the beastmen's domain, salt is precious. With little trade, they lack resources and haven't imported culinary concepts. Their nature, rather than incapacity, leads them to avoid development or progress.
At least, that's how it seemed to me.
Orcs and those displaced by the anti-lion faction shared a common wish: to return to their former lives. They knew it was impossible, but still desired it, rather than seeking new beginnings.
This highlights the peculiarity of Lex Asuka, who seeks progress for beastmen society. Perhaps beastmen society has consistently rejected such anomalies, and they merely failed to eliminate Lex Asuka.
"Lady Euphemia, you should enjoy your time with the Beast King. Nothing significant happens, but eventually, something unusual will. I may not be smart, but I sense these things," Zonda said, chewing his half-raw meat, gazing into the distance with eyes familiar with violence.
He wasn't a bad guy. I could tell. It was a matter of nature—no, not a problem, just a difference in nature.
- We are different.
This fundamental difference often causes conflict, sometimes minor, sometimes fatal. Being inherently different leads to inevitable conflicts.
I know this now. I didn't before I faced the fire.
That's how it is.
I continued to listen to Zonda Pauga’s story until we had consumed the entire prey we had caught.
From our conversation, Zonda seemed quite similar to Beast King Randall—rough, bold, straightforward, and clear in his motives and actions. His past stories matched this impression: he hit someone because they annoyed him, killed someone because they insulted him, used violence when others didn’t comply. He defied the Beast King because he didn’t want to follow orders and ended up serving him only after being defeated and allowed to surrender.
Their simplicity stemmed from their strength. Strength negates the need for patience. If you're weak, you must endure; this is true in human and aristocratic societies too, where higher status and rank represent a different form of strength. I recall a saying from a distant world I once lived in: "All forms of strength can be reduced to violence."
I had endured much in my life, but now, I felt I had done enough. As I pondered this, something caught my attention—a bird's shadow on the ground.
Realizing that the shadow was too large to be a bird, I looked up and saw the source was not a bird but a Great Eagleman.
It wasn't Brunoa Kisk, but one of his subordinates—a younger one, from the looks of him.
“Euphemia Grimwood!” he called out loudly, landing nearby.
His intense blue eyes were serious, but I found it somewhat endearing. Despite my younger age, his youthful earnestness was clear.
“You don’t have to shout; I can hear you. What’s your name again?”
“Kuon. Kuon Kisk. My apologies, Zonda Pauga, Lil Ligrill, Luche Rubia, for interrupting your conversation,” he said, bowing slightly.
“That’s fine, but you seem pretty flustered,” Zonda responded, genuinely unconcerned.
Kuon turned fully toward me, his expression serious.
“Euphemia Grimwood, a demon claiming to be your ally has arrived. He says you summoned him. Is this true? Do you have demon allies?”
As I listened to Kuon’s earnest words, I realized the timing made sense. Considering the travel time from our base to the Beast King’s capital, it seemed Pookie had moved quickly upon arrival.
I couldn’t help but smile, pleased with this news. Kuon’s slight eyebrow twitch indicated a mix of surprise and a touch of fear at my beaming smile.
“They said they’re my allies with purple skin? Then yes, they are my allies, but they’re not demons. Demons are those who serve the Demon King. They might be of the demon race, but they’re no longer demons”
They are from the Grimoire Tribe. It’s a name they chose to define themselves.
“Wh… why are demon race here in the capital?” Kuon began to ask, but his words were cut off by another shadow.
Another Great Eagleman descended, this time Brunoa Kisk.
With an impassive expression, he spoke.
“A village near the human domain was attacked. The attackers were humans—a human army. Gather at Lord Randall’s immediately. We must discuss our next moves.”
