Chapter 107 - "Awoooo!"

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Redressing his very long back, all at once, letting it be straightened, good, well, and healthy–one of his hands went and snatched a dagger hanging around his waist.

What had he intended to do with that?

Shivers ran down my spine–I hurried my lips to speak; "Wait, no!"

And he skillfully directed it at me!

Would 'that' happen again?

Shivers ran down my spine yet again. Or maybe shivers only increased in intensity–I felt it good.

And I didn't want 'that' to happen again.

My lips should be talking again–"I'll do it, I'll do it!" and I tried to move my hands and feet in order to just … break free as quickly as possible–but he only calmly knelt next to me.

Then with the same fiery eyes and widely rounded nostrils, he proceeded to … could it be … untie me?

"Oh … okay, alright," I observed as I stopped my panicked struggling right away. "Thank you," I continued in a meek voice.

The dagger was brought against my ankles, one after the other, they were untied.

The ropes were extraordinarily thick; yet, it only took one cut from that dagger to go all loosened up.

Up till now, I could only move my toes–now it was different; I tried to get up.

Though, "oops." Only my ankles were free to move.

Bending forward, I was pushed back against the weak chair back; it creaked, "Little Monster … you be still, you calm," his large palm upon my chest.

I just figured I wasn't even entirely untied.

I obeyed but felt sorry for it.

And very quickly, it was my wrists' turn to be set free.

"And now … you kill the humans … I tell Chief–told!–about how you deal humans–deal with!–" he nodded to me, I nodded back; he continued, "tell us why, show us how, Little Monster."

Standing back up, he looked down at me, still sitting on the chair, as one would look at … I'd like to say powerful champ, but no, it only felt weak.

He looked at me as though I was weak. Or maybe it was just in my head?

Either way, I didn't like it.

I was just being told off or what? My face underwent a frown of loath. I didn't like it, no, no.

"Move aside, orc."

Okay so, let's get down to this … but really seriously, this time about.

Oh, and Tattooed Orc really stepped aside. I didn't think he'd be listening.

Jumping off my seat, I began stretching my body.

Bringing both of my arms, one after the other, up in the air, I wiggled my waist around–what kind of stretching was even that?–it proved useful for I wasn't feeling dull anymore.

My bare feet were standing and planted on the leather carpet of the ground. I performed some other stretching movements.

Then I glanced once more at Tattooed; he only nodded to me with unconcealed confidence.

And well, they really did untie me, in the end. I wasn't against it. Just felt weird since I thought of myself as a prisoner.

A prisoner of war, sure. I knew about them. And they weren't certainly treated the way I'd been.

Then again, maybe my case is different.

Either way, I was free, it seemed.

There still were these guys' conditions, but I think I'm good.

I can get out of here.

I just have to get down to it properly, mechanically, and efficiently.

So, okay, first off: there is still 'that' skill I needed to be assessing. Or just simply using, actually.

And it was seemingly the last one.

Let's just perform it then:

My feet still standing on and planted in the ground, my chest was breathing. I made it breathe. I needed air.

Going up and down at it went, my lungs grew full, then empty, then full again, then empty again; this cycle three more times.

Everyone in the area looked at me with expectation.

Why was I doing that?

But I didn't pay any attention to them.

They'd just be disturbing me if I did so.

I breathed in and out. Very repeatedly. Over and over again. I must've done that for at least a good ten seconds or so; because I could see that Chief Orc seemed to be getting impatient about me.

And well, the next step was just going on with how it felt right–my body crouched down, landed on all fours, (I felt around with my hand on the ground, trying to get comfortable), assumed one good wolf-like position…

And then it ranged out!... "Awoooo!"

<Howl Wolf>

I simply howled.

Not sitting so much like a wolf, but rather like a frog, I simply howled, for some reason.

My knees were up to my arms. Both my pairs of soles and palms on the leathery ground; I howled again.

Ring!

❮No nearby wolf detected.❯

Oh?

Well, okay, sure.

And breathing properly again, I simply went on howling again.

That same process for again a good ten seconds at least.

I didn't feel embarrassed in the least, no.

Eyes were simply cast on me. Interrogative eyes. These eyes demanded an explanation but didn't dare ask. All of them did that, basically.

The poor orcs' group must've been the ones wondering what the hell was going down here, at this point.

Thinking that, I felt proud, somehow.

And I finally stood up.

Giving Tattooed a thumbs-up, I let my teeth shine for a bit.

He certainly couldn't get the reason for why I just did what I did right now–he gave me a thumbs-up too, nonetheless.

Heh, heh. It was fun.

I can't just trust them completely, after all. That, and they captured me. It isn't cool. I stand against that.

And I also sure as hell don't wanna take this many orcs at once, too.

This skill will just prove useful in a few minutes, I reckon.

For now, let's just … well.

Going about doing it mechanically with proper method.

With my audience of bulging, annoyed, and impatient eyes, I got back to the main business.

What was the next step about?

Voicing my uncertainties: "Ahem." And it began with me clearing my throat emblematically.

I just jumped off of my seat, on one side of the room.

By my side there were both Tattooed Orc–that wasn't all that weirded out by my howling sounds, I noticed he must've been the only one–and the humans captive in their whole.

I stepped forward, one, two, three steps. I liked to be counting my steps, and so I stepped four, five, six additional steps. Just for the pleasure of it.

My bare toes brushing along the leathery floor down there. And they stopped.

On the other side of the room, there they were all presented to me. In complete silence. When I was on the chair, they weren't all so silent; right now, it was different, though.

I wondered why.

But didn't really care about the reason: I cleared my throat again.

"Ahem, ahem."

I made sure I calibrate my voice well and make so that it's clear and slow. I'd not want to repeat myself.

They understood I'd be talking.

I had their attention.

"Ahem, ahem–Old Sipping says: 'young lad, young lad, listen to me, I just want to be thoroughly acquainted with your current level (whether you are really strong, or rather rea-a-ally strong, you see?), but over there, I cannot guarantee your safety–therefore, do not, under no conditions, get too reckless that you be captured, young lad,' that's my old uncle talking, 'prisoners of war are a thing!... I do not wish for you to be that thing,' he finally added (and it's still my old man talking, you know)."

"..."

"Basically–you sure I can just go for free?"

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