"Over there."
Searching along the riverbank, Li Fei suddenly widened her eyes and grabbed Grace's shoulder, pointing toward a mess of scattered footprints.
The prints were noticeably larger than an adult man's feet — broad and wide, with four toes. The duckweed blanketing the waterway like a green carpet had been torn apart and scattered, exposing murky black-green water beneath.
"Half-orcs."
Grace tightened her grip on her longbow and made the identification in an instant.
Based on the sparse few pages of case files they'd been given, Folded Space D-07 was classified as an ultra-small type with exceedingly poor resources — barely enough to sustain much life at all. Beyond ordinary flora and fauna, only Sequence 9 half-orcs and cave-dwellers had taken root here, living and multiplying in tribal units.
Low-threat natives, a challenging and unpleasant environment, and resources that were just barely worthwhile for low-Sequence Transcendents — this combination had caught the Academy's eye, earning D-07 a spot on the recommended list of "Top Ten Beginner Zones."
"Follow them."
Li Fei touched the hilt of the Blade of Joy at her waist and murmured quietly.
"Mm."
Neither of them said another word. They followed the tracks at a brisk pace, and before long, a chorus of rough, boisterous singing reached their ears.
Seven or eight half-orcs were making their way home, laden with the spoils of a hunt, singing as they walked.
These half-orcs stood close to two meters tall, with broad, powerful builds. Tattered scraps of filthy cloth hung from their bodies as clothing. Their skin was covered in dark grey-black fur, and their faces bore pig-like snouts and tusks, giving them a ferocious appearance.
Slung over their shoulders were long wooden spears, each threaded with a string of blackened carcasses that looked like some kind of fish — though their skin was slick and they had no scales. According to the case files, these were a specialty of Folded Space D-07: creatures that could survive in the foul, odor-laden rivers and mud, said to be delicious despite being full of bones.
The somewhat portly half-orcs sang at the top of their lungs, their voices rising and falling through the wetlands — like simple mountain folk hauling bamboo baskets full of wild produce, eager to get home and embrace their wives and children.
Neither of them could understand the lyrics, and the voices were a touch hoarse, but the short, spirited melody carried an inexplicable cheerfulness — brimming with the joy of a good harvest.
The two women exchanged a glance and, without a word, fell silently into step behind the hunting party. After Viranean, they had a decent enough measure of each other — targets this small weren't even worth a warm-up, let alone actual practice.
The half-orcs had no idea they were being followed and led the two outsiders back to their home without a single precaution.
Li Fei trudged through mud and weeds for half an hour, and then the view opened up all at once — a broad, flat expanse of open land spread before her.
"Hm… something's off."
Li Fei quietly poked her head out from behind a clump of shrubs and frowned at the bustling settlement within, murmuring under her breath.
She tapped the ground lightly with her foot. The soil here was noticeably drier and more compact — in the mud-and-bog wasteland of Folded Space D-07, this patch of land was clearly a rare and relatively livable exception.
On top of that, the half-orcs who lived here had cleared away most of the surrounding vegetation and ringed their bare territory with sharpened wooden stakes, forming a crude perimeter barrier.
From the primitive village before her — and from the distinctly melodic singing she'd heard earlier — Li Fei unmistakably sensed something: the scent of civilization.
Grace silently produced a bronze-cased monocular telescope, a Firefly-grade reconnaissance item, and swept it back and forth across the settlement, her lips pressed into a tight line. Clearly, poker-face herself had also noticed something unusual.
"Let me have a look."
Li Fei took the scope and peered into the village.
The half-orcs they'd followed were shouting greetings as they approached the gap in the stake perimeter, exchanging waves with what appeared to be sentries standing guard.
A cluster of half-orc cubs who had been waiting eagerly at the village entrance erupted in cheers, swarming forward in a noisy, chattering rush.
Through the scope, Li Fei could clearly see that as the half-orcs returned home, their ugly and fearsome faces broke into something unmistakably warm — open and gentle smiles.
They casually tossed a couple of fish to the cubs to share, mouths moving as if offering some instruction or admonishment.
As she panned the scope, she could also make out densely packed wooden lean-tos throughout the settlement, with half-orcs moving in and out of them regularly. At the center of the village stood a proper wooden house, and beside it was a pen holding roughly two dozen sheep — she had no idea where they'd gotten them from.
Beyond that, Li Fei spotted rows upon rows of dried carcasses hanging in the air, the meat blackened and desiccated, some already partially skinned. Among them were no small number of dead cave-dwellers — evidently stockpiled as preserved food.
What surprised Li Fei most was what she saw at the edge of the village: whole swaths of cultivated fields, with crops growing vigorously in neat rows.
Of all things — these half-orcs, though technically sapient, weren't exactly gifted in the brain department. Their species' average intelligence fell well below that of fairies. And even wild fairies basically lived off whatever nature provided; they certainly didn't farm.
"Numbers… close to a thousand."
After a long moment, Li Fei lowered the telescope and handed it back to Grace, her tone turning serious. "According to the files, each half-orc tribal community should have a population of fifty to three hundred. Cave-dweller settlements might run a bit higher — four or five hundred. Any more than that, and the resources needed to sustain them would exceed what the environment can support, forcing internal conflict: the victors claim whatever scarce resources remain, while the losers have to strike out and carve a new home elsewhere."
"But just now, I saw that the number of cave-dweller corpses hanging inside the village as stockpiled provisions alone was staggeringly large."
"Unless I'm wrong, what's most likely happened is this: an exceptionally intelligent individual emerged among the half-orcs, consolidated most of the half-orc population in this Folded Space under one banner, systematically wiped out the cave-dwellers in the process, and used their flesh as provisions — then developed this space into one capable of sustaining a thousand or more. I recall there being a similar case study in one of our textbooks."
"So — do we need to change the plan?"
After laying out her theory, Li Fei turned to ask Grace's opinion while silently cursing Nicole in the back of her mind.
She absolutely refused to believe Nicole knew nothing about the actual conditions here. But it was plain enough: the Dean had decided that two specially recruited students needed a somewhat more demanding examination environment to sharpen their potential.
---
Yusura gathered an armful of leaves and fed them to his flock of sheep, his weathered eyes full of quiet warmth.
His clean garments were proof of his singular standing within the half-orc tribe.
The years had left their mark clearly on what had once been the greatest warrior among the half-orcs. His fur had grown thin and brittle, his forehead lined with deep wrinkles, and the powerfully muscled body of his youth had withered into something lean and gaunt.
"Father!"
A young half-orc, tall and powerfully built, strode toward him.
The young warrior gripped a heavy stone axe, its blade stained dark with dried blood but honed to a sharp edge. Sweat streamed down his dark, solid muscles and dripped onto the ground, leaving a trail of damp marks in the earth.
"How are the wedding preparations coming along, Kenan?"
Yusura looked at him with paternal warmth, as if seeing himself from decades past.
Kenan, the chieftain's son and heir to the tribe, glanced over at the adorable little lambs. His mind drifted briefly to that tender, juicy flavor he'd tasted twice before and had never forgotten — and he swallowed involuntarily.
"Don't worry, everything's in order."
Kenan's eyes shifted, and a hint of slyness flickered across his otherwise resolute face. "Father, I'm getting married tonight — any chance we could have a roasted lamb…?"
"Oh?"
Yusura smiled placidly. "My child — does that mean you went and wiped out another cave-dweller settlement while I was napping just now?"
"You've practically wiped them all out yourself. Where would I even find any?"
Kenan complained with a long-suffering look.
"Well then… did you persuade the remaining scattered clansmen to join our tribe?"
Yusura followed up cheerfully.
"No…"
"Then I take it you've thought of some new strategy to produce more food for us?"
The old half-orc's face lit up with hopeful anticipation.
"That either."
Kenan scratched the back of his neck with an awkward grin. "Father, I'm getting married tonight — couldn't you, as the chief, just this once…"
"I keep watch over these lambs at all times to reward those who have rendered merit for the tribe — not to indulge the appetites of my own kin."
Yusura shook his head and cut off his own son's request with a tone that was slow but entirely unyielding.
In that, this aged tribal chieftain was considerably more fair and impartial than a certain golden-haired older-sister type of a female instructor who invented new excuses every single class to use her authority to give bonus marks to the female student she fancied.
He said with grave sincerity: "Son, you must remember—"
"Alright, alright, I know."
Kenan clapped his hands over his ears and begged for mercy. "Father, you say those same words to me three times a day! I'll still know them on my deathbed."
"Once we have ten thousand tribespeople, and enough sturdy weapons for our warriors, we march as one — to slay the stone monster at the end of the river, cross into that mysterious cavern, right?"
"Mm."
Yusura nodded, eyes soft with a smile. "Beyond that door lies a world of boundless possibility — the very place our ancestors once called home. Tilt your head back and you'll see a blazing hearth in the sky; the rivers run clear, and cubs who drink from them won't fall sick and die; there are lambs everywhere you look, and also…"
"Also females with no fur on their skin, as smooth and soft as leaves — I know, Father."
Kenan shrugged, then thumped his chest with a loud declaration: "Relax. Even if I can't finish the task, your grandchildren will."
"But before all that — could I have just one lamb leg tonight, in advance…"
"No."
Yusura shook his head first. Then, watching the disappointment spread across his son's face, he spoke with a quiet smile: "However — there is one merit I earned nineteen years ago that I have yet to claim. That entitles me to one lamb."
"When your child is born, that lamb will be my gift."
Kenan heard this, spun on his heel, and walked away.
"Where are you going?"
"To get me wife to have that baby."
"Hah."
Yusura laughed and shook his head.
Then, abruptly, his smile faded. A sharp, serious — almost knife-edged — light surfaced in his clouded old eyes, and he turned his head toward the village entrance a short distance away.
A commotion had broken out there: the wailing of infants, the screaming of females, the furious roaring of warriors.
Yusura, who had driven the cave-dwellers of this world to the very edge of extinction, knew that sound all too well.
An uninvited guest had shattered the village's warm and lively peace.
A human woman in mage's robes, clutching a long jade-green sword, had slipped through the main gate in broad daylight, in full view of everyone.
Slash.
The blade swept horizontal. Fine heads tumbled. Blood geysered toward the sky.
Gripping the Blade of Joy, Li Fei's Agility was off the charts — in a blur of motion, swift as lightning, she cut down the half-orc sentries at the gate and left them in a heap.
She kicked aside a glaring, still-blinking severed head and watched the half-orc cubs scatter and flee in every direction, her lips curving upward.
The shrill, terrified screaming was far more pleasing to her than the cheerful folk song from earlier. The thrill swelling within her thrummed with every beat of her racing heart, her blood running almost hot enough to boil.
A flush crept up Li Fei's cheeks. She licked her lips, and even her breathing had gone a little ragged.
It was back.
That feeling — the Moonlight Wolf Den grind. The hunt.
All of it was back.
The wild fairies in the Secret Garden were treated as a personal cash crop by the Fairy Mother — an endless source of wealth — so every sword Li Fei swung there had been like cutting into a fairy's head and stabbing herself in the wallet.
But now? None of that applied.
She could cut loose and kill to her heart's content!
No — wait — she couldn't let herself smile. She had to maintain her image.
Li Fei's mouth twitched violently. By the time Grace caught up, she had only just barely wrestled her expression back under control.
To Grace's eyes, the face of her classmate from the neighboring class — achingly beautiful, a work of nature — wore a look that was conflicted and hesitant.
Li Fei furrowed her brows tightly, a flicker of reluctance crossing her eyes:
"Maybe… we should just leave it."
"Before now, I've only ever shed the blood of those who sought to harm me. To strike at them now, without cause… I can't bring myself to do it."
Grace studied her carefully at those words:
"This is not an unjust war."
In truth, Loxibrook's law and order was an anomaly — a rare exception. Beyond its borders, war and glory were the dominant notes of life on the Continent of Enlos.
The path of Transcendence had always been drenched in blood and slaughter. Every figure who stood at the pinnacle had clawed their way up from a mountain of corpses.
When those at the top had blood on their hands, and when those who hungered for advancement could not avoid the same path, a warped set of values inevitably took hold: if war brought wealth and victory, it was righteous. Only pointless cruelty — harm inflicted on others for nothing more than the satisfaction of a personal appetite — was truly unjust.
Li Fei's kindness and softness made Grace's heart ache. But she knew all too clearly how terrifying the dangers of a gentle heart could be — especially for someone like Li Fei, a genius of exceptional talent who would one day inevitably have to climb to the higher Sequences.
She would rather have a Li Fei who was not so kind, than a Li Fei who was dead.
"I know I'm too soft."
In that moment, Li Fei's voice was compassionate as a saint's, but her eyes blazed with a clarity as steady as a flame: "But I won't retreat… I want to grow strong. I don't want you — or anyone else I care about — to ever be thrown into danger like Viranean again because of my weakness."
"Be careful."
The words left her lips, and without looking back, Li Fei gripped her sword and charged into the half-orcs surging toward her from every direction.
Grace watched clearly as a string of glittering tears fell from Li Fei's face as she turned away.
The short-haired girl felt a sharp pang in her chest, and for a reckless moment even considered grabbing her and leaving — protecting something so rare and precious as that kindness.
But in the end, she let out a silent, long breath and dismissed the impractical thought. Coldly, she drew her longbow. Arrows forged from condensed mana shot forward in a burst, piercing through several half-orc chests.
"STOP!"
A voice rang out — old and hoarse.
Li Fei and Grace both snapped their heads toward the source, twin expressions of genuine surprise.
Because that one word had been spoken in the Common Tongue of the Order Alignment.
The ancient half-orc spread his arms wide, holding back his eager tribespeople and his son alike, and said in a low, measured voice:
"You… are outsiders from Enlos, are you not?"
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