Somewhere else in Do Banga’s Pit…


 

Doradora Do Banga had more than a dozen children.

Titled the “Heirs of Do Banga”, they enjoyed the privileges of being part of the legendary figure’s bloodline, possessing authority, strength, and influence.

With the blood of a nigh-mythical Dwarf coursing through their veins, all of them were talented.

Many of them were cream-of-the-crop warriors, blacksmiths, or even both.

 

Barabara Do Banga.

Commonly just called Barabara.

All of Heirs of Do Banga looked up to him.

He was Doradora’s first child, and had actively participated in the war, earning more than enough merit to warrant his splendid reputation.

As the eldest son, he took it upon himself to be the reliable figurehead of the family, helping and leading his siblings whenever they needed support.

On top of that, he never slacked off when it came to his skills, always seeking to improve himself, whether it be in blacksmithing or combat.

Just like his great father, Doradora Do Banga, did before him.

In fact, he had won the Armament Festival just last year, and intended to win it again this year.

 

All of the other Heirs of Do Banga looked up to and relied on him.

All except one – his youngest sister, who was born of a Human mother.

 

“What?! Primera was captured by Orcs?!”

“No! No.
Listen to me properly.
I said that Primera took in an Orc, not that she was captured by one.”

 

That day, it was one of his younger sisters, Carmela, who had come to visit him in the isolated location where he was training for the Armament Festival.

Carmela Do Banga was the second daughter of their family, but she took such good care of her younger brothers and sisters you wouldn’t be faulted for believing she was their mother.

The other siblings, who weren’t in Do Banga’s Pit, had become intimately familiar with her cooking.

Naturally, as an Heir of Do Banga herself, she was also a first-class blacksmith, though her skills as a warrior weren’t as good.

 

Her latest worries concerned her youngest sister, Primera Do Banga.

The Heirs of Do Banga were a symbol of hope for the Dwarves, and thus, heavy expectations were placed upon their shoulders.

Of course, they studied and trained hard to live up to said expectations, all of them growing up strong and skilled.

All except for Primera.

Her fate was different from her siblings’.

She was the only one for which the Dwarves held no great faith.

The girl was born weak, her Human blood running deep in her veins.

Her body was soft, and her arms were thin… a girl like her could not possibly make it to the top as a blacksmith, much less as a warrior.

Everyone who was anyone had come to that conclusion.

Even among the other Heirs of Do Banga.

 

But even so, she studied hard as to not bring shame upon herself and the Do Banga name.

“”

Primera was hopeless when it came to fighting, but she firmly held on to the belief that she could make it big as a blacksmith.

However, her skills in the craft were still immature, and her results were sub-par.

She was all talk.

Obviously, no one acknowledged her.

 

Carmela, ever the worrier, advised her again and again.

 

“At least stop boasting so much.
You’re still inexperienced, and you have to build up a good foundation.
Practice your basics.
And if it doesn’t work, just quit and do something else.
You aren’t tied to the Do Banga fate like the rest of us.
You can become great doing something else.”

 

But Primera, hungry for results and recognition, did not listen.

 

Eventually, Primera even began to announce that she was going to participate in the Armament Festival.

Carmela was firmly against this.

 

“Primera, don’t do this.
You won’t just embarrass yourself, but you’re also risking the honor and dignity of the warriors who are willing to help you.”

 

But the younger girl did not listen.

She had heard these same lines a hundred times before.
There was no convincing her.

 

Both Barabara and Carmela knew of her attitude.

She was immature in the ways of blacksmithing, but above all, she lacked awareness…

Awareness that a warrior entrusts the armor he dons, and thus the blacksmith, with his life.

Which is why none of the warriors within Dwarf country were willing to aid her.

 

But even after all that, she had managed to rope in a naïve Orc who didn’t know of the circumstances…

 

“I’m worried.
Orcs aren’t attracted to Dwarven women at all, but she’s half Human… I hope she doesn’t get in trouble…”

“…I wouldn’t be worried.
Orcs have a law forbidding them from having non-consensual intercourse with other races.
The civilized ones among them abide by it.”

“Ha, you only say that because you’re a man.
Consent can be obtained after the act, you know? Coercion exists.”

“…”

 

Barabara listened to Carmela as he practiced his sword swings.

Although she came here seemingly looking for his counsel, the fact was that she just needed to rant.

It has always been like this.
She didn’t care about her brother’s opinion on the matter.

 

“Even if she’s safe, there’s no way she could win with the weak armor she creates.
Wasn’t there an incident last year where a warrior lost due to his equipment failing in the most crucial of moments, and the blacksmith nearly got beat to death? And now we’re dealing with one of those demented Orcs.
Not to mention he’s got a lying, scheming Faerie following him around.
What a mess…”

 

And Orc accompanied by a Faerie.

The moment his brain processed this information, Barabara halted his swing mid-air.

 

“Wait, you weren’t talking about one of the local Orc slaves?”

“Huh? Oh, I thought you knew they were travelers.
They arrived at the border while I was trying to stop the girl from leaving the country.
I spoke to him briefly and he didn’t seem like a stray Orc.”

“An Orc…? A travelling Orc… with a Faerie?”

 

Barabara Do Banga had fought in more battles than he could count.

Among those were many engagements in which he had to face Orcs.

They were rather clumsy and simple-minded, but they were in no way incompetent.
As soon as they began cooperating with the Faeries, their tactics and strategies became many times more efficient.

 

“Who were they? Why are they here?”

“No idea.
Didn’t get to hear the details.
They said they were looking for something.
Must be important, given that they came all the way here from Siwanasi Forest.”

“…”

 

This whole thing smelled fishy.

Barabara had never heard of a travelling Orc, much less of one travelling with a Faerie.

There must be a deeper reason behind this whole sequence of events.

And he had an idea of what that might be.

 

“What is this Orc’s name?”

“His name? What was it again… ah, a bunch of guys who reported his actions to me told me he was a famous warrior named Bash? Apparently, they picked a fight with him, but ran away.
What a bunch of cowards, always bragging about their war stories but they’re scared of a single Orc.”

 

Barabara’s expression froze, chills running down his spine.

He briskly turned around, grabbing Carmela by her shoulders.

 

“Bash?!”

“Yeah.
What about it? Do you know him?”

 

Bash.

Hero of the Orcs.

The Dwarven scourge that had earned himself nickname “The Destroyer”.

Any and all Dwarves who had been on the Orcish front knew of this name.

 

The warriors who were loyal to the Do Banga clan were willing to follow Barabara and Carmela.

All of them were mighty fighters in their own right.

On the battlefield, they bravely strode forward no matter their opponent, staring down death straight in its cold, dark eyes.

Proud and fearless Dwarves all, with the indomitable resolution to crush anyone that dared speak ill of them or their leaders.

 

But courageous as they may be, they knew their limits.

Veteran warriors knew that there were gambles they could not win.
When it was better to live and fight another day.

Many of them had lost their lives after courting death one time too many.

It was thanks to them that the survivors understood…

 

They understood that on the field of battle, there were opponents that could never be beaten.

 

Bash was one such opponent.

And right now, he was right here, in Do Banga’s Pit.

Hearing this, Barabara couldn’t help but shudder,

 

“Anyway, brother, please do something about this.
Try talking some sense into the girl.
She was born as a half-Human, looked down upon, struggled her whole life, and she’s both impatient and irascible – but that’s still better than being an Orc sex slave, right?”

“Hrmm…”

 

Barabara Do Banga groaned as he crossed his arms.

His thoughts were no longer focused on Primera.

Rather, he was thinking about the wickedness that his own people were committing right here, in Do Banga’s Pit.

Those greedy pigs had gone overboard, doing as they wished in the wake of the post-war turmoil, all in the name of profit.

Only a few people, including Barabara, knew about these facts.

The eldest of the Heirs had plans to remedy the situation, and so he had left them alone for now, but if the Orc King had sent Bash of all people to resolve this…

…the tunnels of the city might soon be drenched with blood.

 

“What’s the Orc doing now?”

“Looks like he’s gearing up for the Armament Festival by teaming up with Primera… ah, an Orc… I’m sure he’s having his way with the girl, letting his lust loose on her poor, skinny body…”

 

Participation in the Armament Festival – Barabara was relieved to hear this, the weight on his heart lightening just a little.

It meant that the Orc Hero would try to smoke out Do Banga’s Pit’s rats in a fair and legitimate manner.

The Dwarf had his own reservations about this – but at the very least, it was better than filling the streets with corpses.

 

“…Then so be it.”

“Huh?! What do mean, “so be it”?! Don’t you think your poor, pitiful littlest sister needs your help?!”

 

Barabara resumed swinging his blade.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care about his sister.

But Bash was at her side – the Orc Hero, who was most likely here under secret orders from the Orc King.

If he was trying to do his thing subtly, then it might not be so bad.

This meant that the Orcs as a whole were trying to resolve this peacefully.

 

“As for Primera, I don’t think it’ll be a big deal.
You’re just overprotective is all.”

 

Even if Primera really was in trouble, this would be a valuable lesson for her.

She was always talking herself up, boasting about impossible feats and claiming the infeasible.

For her to be beaten down, realize her helplessness, and even so pick herself back up and strive to truly improve her skills – that might just be the thing she needed.

Otherwise, she would just keep going down the same vicious spiral.

In other words, Barabara was thinking about his younger sister’s growth.

However, Carmela did not take it that way.

 

“Oh, fine! I get it! I won’t ever ask you for help again! It was stupid of me to come here in the first place! To you, she’s just a failure, the trash of the family! You don’t care at all if she gets hurt or goes away!”

“That not…”

 

Barabara turned around to retort, but his sister was already gone.

 

“Well, at least that’s done… so the Orcs finally made a move, huh…”

 

For the past three years…

These evils have continued unabated.

There were those who opposed these acts – among them a warrior as strong of spirit as Doradora Do Banga was strong of body.

One who might finally rise up to face them.

 

“I hope his efforts were not in vain…”

 

All Barabara Do Banga could do was to pray for that warrior’s fortune.

Fortune for the warrior that kept struggling and fighting, even though his situation seemed hopeless…

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