Chapter 55: Hunter’s Memories (1)

Yuri held the red stone in his hand.

He had known it wasn’t an ordinary object, given it could induce madness in orcs, but he never imagined it would be connected to these ruins.

When the stone began to flicker, the lights in the place intensified. Yuri could see the room he was in more clearly.

He saw human remains, like those outside. They all seemed to have taken their own lives.

And in the middle of that heap of corpses stood something resembling a staff embedded with a magic stone.

The red stone glowed even more intensely. Yuri couldn’t tell if it was moving of its own will or if the staff was drawing it in.

Holding the red stone in one hand, he reached out with the other and placed it on the magic stone of the staff. Then, his vision turned completely white.

He began to see something. First, a deep blue sky. Then, a vast, endless prairie.

Yuri quickly realized he was seeing those landscapes through someone else’s eyes.

***

The memories stored in the staff were faded with time.

Some fragments were broken and hard to understand, but the general thread was clear.

This building had been a hunter’s refuge. They lived here, and by order of the king, exterminated dangerous creatures.

Orcs.

The owner of the memories had earned the title of royal hunter and reached the edge of the prairie, where he was trained by a master.

They hunted orcs relentlessly. But the orcs didn’t dwindle. At the sight of hunters, they fled, and thanks to their persistent vitality, they kept reproducing.

That’s why hunters used artifacts imbued with magic. The memory’s owner received one of these items from his master.

“This is the badge of an orc hunter.”

What he held was a necklace with the same red stone Yuri now had. All hunters carried one.

“It’s used to lure orcs.”

That’s how Yuri understood that this stone was a tool once used by the hunters of the ancient prairies.

“They’re vile, pathetic creatures.”

That’s what his master always said.

“Show no mercy. Death is the only salvation you can give them.”

They hunted them with swords, bows, and sometimes magical weapons. Adults or children, every orc had to die. But the young hunter began to wonder.

“Why do orcs hate humans so much?”

His master gave no answer. Over time, he became a full-fledged hunter.

His master aged and retired. Before leaving, he shared one last piece of knowledge.

That night, after slaughtering a horde of orcs, they sat by a campfire among the corpses.

“Do you know how orcs are born?”

“Huh?”

He had never asked himself that question.

“Don’t they come from the east, driven out to the prairies?”

“No.”

The master told him an old story.

“There was a noble who delighted in killing. He would release slaves to hunt them for sport. When the king banned it, he fell into a deep depression. Then, a mage approached him with an offer.”

That mage taught him a forbidden art that let him kill at will—he created beings that weren’t truly human.

“That filthy black magic corrupted humanity.”

The young hunter was stunned.

“No way…”

The master, his eyes clouded with age, said,

“Orcs are humans corrupted by black magic.”

The noble had used humans as a base to create them. He gave them grotesque forms so they could be hunted, and altered them to reproduce rapidly.

The orc breeding pits on his lands produced endless prey.

“They were human, but no one treated them as such. That’s why the noble wasn’t blamed. On the contrary, those unaware of the truth praised his work, exterminating those abominations.”

But the truth came to light. The noble was executed. The mage who had created the orcs vanished without a trace.

The orcs that escaped the breeding pits regrouped in the prairies beyond the border.

Thus, the creatures humans had created became cursed predators, devourers of human flesh, driven by hatred toward their creators.

“Though that magic no longer exists, the orcs learned to reproduce on their own. Now there are so many they’re uncontrollable. They are humans twisted by black magic.”

“Black magic…”

The owner of the memory trembled. In the ancient prairie kingdom, black magic had been a source of terror.

“That’s why when they see an uncorrupted human, they react with instinctive hatred and savage aggression. Maybe it’s their nature—or maybe it’s envy.”

“So… everything we’ve been killing was really human.”

The master gave a melancholy smile.

“It’s not murder. It’s redemption. Our task is to free the cursed from their misery.”

The human sacrifices mentioned by Moyongchan, the dark power of the orc shamans, and the black magic Ragnar had spoken of all swirled in Yuri’s mind.

Maybe it was all tied to the tragedy of his past life. The memories continued.

The master left, and the young man kept hunting orcs. He was now the leader of the hunters.

Many years passed, but the orcs kept multiplying. Sometimes they formed hordes and directly attacked the kingdom’s borders. When that happened, the kingdom sent troops—but their efforts were in vain.

And then the tragedy began. A mysterious catastrophe struck the kingdom.

As it teetered, the orcs grew bolder. The hunters’ refuge, without reinforcements, was left unprotected.

The orcs had no intention of sparing them. They would torture and humiliate them until they begged for death. The kingdom fell, and the hunters were surrounded.

A mage among them made a proposal.

“We’ll seal this place with magic. Completely isolate it until help arrives.”

“Will it work?”

“It’ll take time, but…”

Would help really come?

But they couldn’t give up just like that. The orcs were already attacking the building. The door opened, and they began pouring in.

“I’ll buy us time.”

The memory’s owner took up his sword and stepped out through the iron door. And stood right before it.

“Redemption.”

His master had always said that was their mission—to redeem. Now he believed it too.

Gripping his sword, he set his gaze on the hideous creatures approaching.

They were humans corrupted by a curse, filled with instinctive hatred for humanity, craving its flesh.

“May you find redemption someday.”

He gave his life to buy time. After slaying countless orcs, he collapsed against the wall and met his end.

And his vision faded into darkness.

Then, another face appeared—it was the mage who had sealed the iron door.

His face was emaciated.

“No one came. The outside is still swarming with orcs. We’ve decided to die here.”

And then he said,

“We may have used the wrong methods, but we’ve chosen to preserve the memories of the greatest hunter in history. If someone ever sees this… may our deaths not be in vain. May those cursed creatures be wiped from this land. And also…”

He recited his final testament.

It was an unexpected warning.

“Beware the demon’s grimoire.”

***

Yuri awoke.

His head throbbed. He remained hunched over for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

It wasn’t just from absorbing someone else’s memories. A dark energy had lodged itself in his mind.

However, from his core, the power of the Cut of the soul and the heart began to radiate, slowly pushing out the darkness.

It took some time for his mind to clear completely.

“Damn it…”

This wasn’t ordinary magic. Yuri now understood that the magic used to store the memories of the dead was also a form of black magic.

Had it been common in the ancient prairie kingdom? He looked at the red stone still in his hand. Now he knew it was an old hunting tool.

He tucked it back into his chest and removed his hand from the staff’s magic stone.

At that moment, the stone at the tip of the staff cracked. It crumbled into dust and scattered, while the staff fell to the ground among the corpses.

The magical energy that had filled the underground vanished entirely.

Then, a faint sound could be heard.

“Prrrinceee…”

Most likely, magic had prevented entry to anyone who didn’t possess the red stone.

And now that the spell had dissipated, the seal had disappeared too. Yuri headed to the entrance and turned the handle.

The door opened effortlessly. Laurent’s face appeared.

“Huh?”

“He’s out! The prince is out!”

“Is he alright?!”

“I’m fine.”

Yuri flung the door open, revealing the rest of the knight squad.

They peered into the underground chamber.

“There are corpses inside too…”

“Looks like they hid to escape the orcs, but in the end, they all died.”

“I see…”

Laurent looked at the remains on the ground and said,

“Then this man held them off to the end, all by himself.”

“So it seems.”

Yuri silently gazed at the corpse slumped in front of the iron door. The mage had called him the greatest hunter in history.

But in his own memories, he saw himself as just another hunter.

While looking at the remains of a man who never knew how great he truly was,

Yuri picked up the rusted sword that had fallen on the ground and placed it once more against his chest.

“Looks like this building belonged to the ancient prairie kingdom. It must’ve fallen under orc attack.”

After touring the interior with the squad and confirming there was nothing left, Yuri exited the ruins. Just then, the allied army was approaching.

Ragnar appeared, leading his black-armored knights.

With a smile, he addressed Yuri.

“How was it?”

“Just a ruin.”

Yuri didn’t mention the memories he had seen.

“Seems like a relic of the ancient prairie kingdom. Everyone inside died because of the orcs.”

“Orcs—then and now—still a problem. How could creatures like that come into existence…?”

“Good question.”

Ragnar clicked his tongue.

“I suppose our army is also avenging old grudges.”

“And saving the civilians who could still be in danger.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

Ragnar smiled in satisfaction.

***

Ragnar ordered the army to spend the night beside the ruins. The allied forces pitched tents and set up watch to protect the supplies.

The sky darkened. Yuri sat in Briol’s camp, eating dinner. His attendants were gathered around him.

“How strong do you think Okua is?”

“He must be incredibly strong.”

“But we’ve got Lord Moyongchan with us…”

Jared seemed fairly relaxed thanks to Moyongchan’s presence.

“We can’t be too sure. Okua is strong enough to control those savage orcs. It’s safer to assume he’s as powerful as one of the Ten Greats.”

Raymond disagreed.

Yuri was a little surprised. He hadn’t expected Raymond to take the threat of Okua so seriously.

“Come on, is an orc really as strong as the Ten Greats?”

“I believe so.”

“Seriously?”

“Orcs aren’t stupid.”

“Yeah. They’re cowardly and vile.”

“And yet, they keep throwing themselves at us, knowing they’ll die.”

“Are you saying…?”

“That Okua is an absolutely dominant force.”

“That makes sense.”

“Until now, orcs had never unified due to their savage nature. If Okua managed to suppress that essence, it means he instilled overwhelming fear. Only someone truly powerful could achieve that.”

“Put that way… you might be right.”

Yuri nodded.

“I agree with Raymond.”

“Really?”

Of course, he said it based on the information he had from his past life, but the conclusion was the same.

Okua had killed Moyongchan with his own hands and rose to become one of the Ten Greats. Up until the day Yuri died, Okua continued to reign as the terror of the prairies.

“So stay alert, everyone.”

Suddenly, a bell rang. It was the alarm that sounded once or twice a day.

The knights, out of habit, dropped their trays and stood at once. It was an orc attack.

“That bell’s louder than usual.”

“Jared, didn’t you memorize the alarm signals?”

“Huh?”

“This rhythm means a large number of enemies.”

“Ah, y-yeah, of course I knew that.”

Yuri drew Guilty. The bell’s rhythm indicated the number of enemies and danger level. And the sound now meant the situation was critical.

“Let’s go.”

Yuri walked out immediately. When he summoned the Manasword, he could sense the orcs’ presence.

Suddenly, memories intertwined. The ancient orc hunter had been sent to the prairies for the sole purpose of exterminating them.

He knew everything about them. He could be called a master butcher. Unknowingly, Yuri had begun to imitate the hunter’s firm stride as he approached his prey.

It was a strange feeling.

“It’s like…”

As if an ancient memory, buried deep in his subconscious, had suddenly risen.

“So that’s what it was.”

The mage hadn’t left that memory in the staff just to show the past. He had done it to pass down the hunter’s killing techniques to whoever found it.

Yuri could feel the hunter’s sword techniques and magical movements fusing within him.

He didn’t feel confused. The memories he had inherited were calm and cooperative.

Yuri approached a soldier fighting an orc.

“Leave this one to me. Fall back.”

“Y-yes, sir!”

The soldier fled. The orc tried to chase him, but Yuri stepped in. The orc growled, baring its teeth, and raised its axe.

Yuri lowered his stance.

He saw it clearly. He could predict every movement the orc would make—and exactly how to respond—as if he could see the future.

In a brief exchange, the orc’s head flew into the air. It was easy.

Yuri curled one corner of his lips into a grin.

“Seems living a decent life came with its rewards.”

At least when it came to killing orcs, he had become an absolute master.

Yuri paid silent tribute to the greatest orc hunter of the ancient world.