518 I Speak Orcish
They all stared at each other for a few seconds, unsure what part of the conversation the others weren't understanding.
Then a large Orc with a club in his hand pointed at Ophelia.
"Hey thick, sexy and furry. How about you come over here and show me if you would make a good wife?" He shouted.
"If you wanted a strong woman to spank you like your mother should have, you just had to ask." She shouted back.
Karl laughed, but the Satyr looked confused.
Perhaps he just wasn't familiar with crude humour.
Ophelia sized up the Orc, and then nodded for Karl to buff her up. They were both Commanders, but she wasn't taking any risks of ending up as some random Orc's wife.
Haste, Terrorize, Brutality and Trollish Regeneration stacked with her own Berserk Terror skill, and she transformed into a four-metre tall Dire Bear before charging at the Orc.
"Goddess, she is massive. What is she doing? I thought your team was sitting the battle out?" The Satyr asked, panicked. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
"Weren't you listening? The Orc challenged her to a bridal duel, and she went to beat some sense into him."
"How am I supposed to know that when they're shouting in Orcish?"
The Satyr was waving his hands in frustration as he screamed at them. Karl looked back at the others, but the ladies just shrugged. They had only heard one language, the Common Language.
But Thor thought the whole situation was hilarious.
[What if the only reason we get along with them so well is because we're the only people who speak Orcish, other than the Orcs?] He chortled, laughing out loud along with his thoughts.
Ophelia and the Orc were going at it in a brutal battle that looked like they had a vendetta against each other, but Karl could see that they were both pulling their strikes so that they wouldn't seriously injure their opponent. It wasn't a war, or a duel to the death. It was more like Orcish flirting, and while Ophelia was playing along, it was clear that the suitor was about to be rejected, as her last strike had nearly put him on his back.
Once he was on the ground, he was done for. In Dire Bear form, she was much larger than he was, and she could just pin him to the ground with one massive paw.
They all watched for a few more minutes until Ophelia got the final blow and got the Orc in the back, pounding him face down into the dirt.
A few other Orcs whooped in celebration nearby, laughing at his misfortune as Ophelia rubbed him in the dirt for a few seconds before backing away and transforming back into her Werebear form.
A large, Royal Rank Orc blocked his way and Karl smiled at her. "I need to talk to the boss. These guys are too stupid to understand Orcish or even what a duel is."
The woman laughed, and motioned for him to follow her.
That did not set the officers' nerves at ease. Not even a little.
The three leaders and the boss were all bleeding heavily when Karl stepped in between them with a hand out toward both sides, signalling for them to pause their fight.
"Chieftain, these idiots asked me to translate because they don't speak Orcish. They want to withdraw their force, but don't understand courtesy." Karl explained.
"That part was obvious already. Why don't they just do it?" The Chieftain replied while glaring at the three Monarch Rank unit leaders.
"Their custom is to just turn and run away."
The Orc paused for a second, and then started to laugh as he realized what Karl was trying to say.
[Oi, everyone back off and let the soldiers run away.] The Chieftain yelled.
Over the next few seconds, the battle calmed, and Karl sighed in relief.
"I have a welcoming gift for you once you're done with these soldiers, as well as some food to trade from the Dragon Clerics. Let me talk to the soldiers for a bit and I will explain what they want." Karl informed the massive Orc.
"No need to translate, I speak their language." The Chieftain shrugged.
The Orcs might have a point about the soldiers of the Newbon Empire being idiots. The Chieftain spoke their language, and the Commanders hadn't even tried to keep this from turning into a huge mess. It might have been a political thing, but Karl got the impression that the soldiers thought there was no other way to deal with Orc Clans.
Karl turned to the Unit Leaders.
"The Orcs have disengaged after I told them that you weren't intending to completely wipe them out." Karl informed them.
"Why do I get the feeling that you weren't that civil about it? I might not speak Orc, but I am fairly certain that I was just insulted to my face." One of the men, a tall and slender Demon with violet skin, insisted.
[Not as dumb as he looks.] The Chieftain laughed.
"Dammit, he did it again, didn't he? That bastard speaks our language!"