Orc Hero Story - Legend of Degree

Qualifying for the Martial Arts Festival can proceed with a dwarf-like appropriateness.

Participants will be assigned a number to match each other appropriately when assembled in the arena.

The winner plays a match with another winner.

It is a so-called tournament method.

The contestants are obliged to fight two fights a day, and the festival lasts until the contestants become one of the last.

Deadline for participation is until the top 64 are decided.

Thus, in some cases, the number of contestants continues to increase and may even last for months.

This martial arts festival was already attended by more fighters than ever before.

Therefore, the festival continued, for days.

◆ ◆ ◆

"Winner, 566!

Bash was winning the qualifying round well.

He had survived five days of battle and had won ten degrees.

None of them struggled, but they were a hard win.

Because the rules of the Martial Arts Festival are responsible.

There are two conditions for defeat of the Martial Arts Festival.

Loss of will, fainting, or death of a fighter who is a participant.

And it is the destruction of weapons.

In other words, if either the weapon or armor you are wearing is destroyed, you will be defeated on the spot.

Primera's weaponry was fragile.

No, it should never mean it's fragile.

The plate mails commensurate with Bash's body were heavy, and swords like iron chunks seemed sturdy to see.

Plate mails were better.

The battle from five days ago to today, without one scratch.

But not the sword.

In one or two fights, it bent so much that it was bound to.

So far, all the qualifying rounds have come to a close with a single blow, but if they were brought into a long battle, I'd say there was plenty of chance of defeat.

……

Bash looked around, holding a sword that no longer reached his sheath.

In the arena, the battle of the other participants continues.

The audience is sparse.

Most dwarves who live in Dbanga holes compete as fighters or make weapons as blacksmiths.

If you don't have a game to do with you, you don't bother taking a trip to the arena.

The audience is either tourists from outside or already defeated fighters.

Around us, the fighters who won the battle were waving up their weapons, roaring and appealing for victory.

High and roaring, I'm hustling around saying I'm strong.

Even in oak society, victory appeal is the flavor of quarrel.

Most importantly, that is only if the quarrel takes place at a level somewhat close.

It's nasty to go out of your way to appeal, even though you just ripped off the weak that stuck you.

That's the common sense of orcs.

Bash therefore had no intention of appealing to his opponents to this extent.

The purpose of this tournament is not exactly to appeal to strength.

It's about winning and getting a wife.

Don't do things you don't have to do.

but Bash raised the arms of those with swords.

Because there was a primera in the audience.

It's not an appeal.

Primera tells me to put it up so I can see the state of the weapon after the battle.

Primera looked at the bent sword and looked like she had chewed up a bitter bug.

Even this time, it didn't seem like a pleasant result.

That would be the case, too. Because her forged sword turned brilliantly this time.

Either way, Bash, who achieved the norm of the day, left the arena behind and returned to the gallery.

"That's where I said I'd do it! Don't let go of that filthy hand, while you don't get busted... Nevertheless, the opponent has five giant orgasms. No matter how strong I say I am, it breaks my bones to bust me! That's the moment I thought so! One of the orgasms flew away! Has anyone in here ever seen an orga fly away? You're gonna lay it right next to me, too, right? I saw it...! I'm going to blow up an orga. And who busted it. And whoever was there was my esteemed bash husband!

"Ooh."

Upon entering the holding room, Zell bragged as usual.

"Ah! Rumor has it, sir! Welcome back! How was the game!? Oh, no, you don't have to tell me. It's about my husband. You beat down a reckless and barbaric opponent with a relentless blow, and you're back with a slow victory, aren't you? Hey, good luck! Oh, I've got a drink for you here, so please drink it! Rub your shoulders too!?

"Uhm."

Seeing, the chair where Bash sat until he was called for a number was laid with a soft cushion, and the table beside him was provided with booze.

Bash sat in the chair as he was told, and when he took the drink, he made a grunting noise and moistened his throat.

Zell just sticks around his shoulder and pushes his shoulder in a gutter.

Perhaps you're going to be rubbing your shoulders.

Bash's tough flesh has no itching whatsoever, even with Zell's full weight.

but I felt the powder falling from the zel pouring down onto Bash's shoulder, somehow removing the tightness from his shoulder.

"Oh, you know, Master Bash?

And one of the fighters who was listening to Zell stopped by.

In metal armor, a wide range of swords.

One man dressed commonly in the holding room.

Notably, the face looked like a lizard.

It's Lizardman.

"... what?

"It's an honor to meet you! Oyla, this is Tide Nile, a warrior of the Pyles River Gecko tribe!

"Oh."

It doesn't discern the appearance, and the name doesn't sound familiar.

It doesn't feel like a battle to see the body and the waist...

"Have we met somewhere?

Either way, Tide Nile happily overruled Bash, who heard that he thought it would be rude if he was an acquaintance.

"Yes! When I was just a little girl, you saved my life. It's the Battle of the Piles."

"Is that battle? I remember very well."

Battle of the Pyles River.

It was a battle that also remained strong in Bash's memory.

The beginning was the isolation of a squadron of Sacubas due to the ploy of the elf army.

The Elf Army has targeted isolated squadrons and, in conjunction with the Dwarf Army, has launched intransigent attacks.

The Sacubus Squadron naturally tried to opt for retreat.

but for one reason they chose to defend themselves.

I had to.

That's because, in the middle of the retreat, I was forced to go through one settlement.

The settlement of Lizardman.

Many non-combatants were left in a small village built around the river.

The Sacubus Squadron could not abandon the non-combatants in the settlement and stayed there.

By the time Bash arrived at the settlement after receiving a distress request, the Sacubus Squadron was already in a state of devastation and the Lizardman settlement had smoke rising from there.

Some of Lizardman's non-combatants were imprisoned, shackled in the neck, and about to be taken away.

Bash arrived. No sooner did he penetrate the enemy army, helping the Sacubus Squadron and rescuing the prisoners.

Indeed, there were still a few small Lizardmans among the prisoners who had been imprisoned.

I guess it's one of those.

"Yes, if Master Bash hadn't come like that, I might have fought in this arena by now, as a Dwarf slave... No, if it had, I might not have had life already..."

"Right."

That battle is also well remembered by Bash. Securely.

The dewy skin and stiff breasts of the Sacubas warriors.

"Nevertheless, since you have a piercing oak, I thought you might be the one with the name, so I asked you about your fairy, and I didn't know you were that 'Oak Hero' bash! I am honored to have met the benefactor of my life!

And so I said to the holding room, "Next 409!," I heard him calling.

Tide Nile raised his hand to the voice, "Ah, it's you," and dazzled towards the arena... he stopped and looked back at Bash.

"Oh, um, can I hold your hand?

"Never mind."

"Wow, big hands. And how powerful... I will refine myself, so that I can be a warrior like you!

When Tide Nile said so, he ran vigorously toward the arena.

"From what I've seen, do I look like a young man in martial arts training? Looking for a husband sounds like a really interested young man."

Zell, who was beside Bash, nodded satisfactorily yeah yeah.

"So, what do we do now? As a matter of duty, we'll have two fights, but we'll finally have another fight or so?

"No, this is the weapon. Let's back off for today..."

And that's when Bash was about to say.

The musculoskeletal men surrounded the bash.

Always this guy ties his mouth together, and he has power in his eyes.

Humans, beasts, dwarves... and all the time, these are men with scars in sight.

"What can I do for you?

Fight.

and Bash asked in half anticipation.

When I thought about it, I got tangled up with what happened after I came to the dovanga hole.

The more I go to the tavern, the more I must say, the stronger Dwarves poke at me and slammed a cursing murmur saying, "Hands off" or "What do you see with a woman?", and I run away.

Even as a small bash, it was somewhat frustrated.

I thought Dwarf warriors were more masculine, but I'm curious.

Well, though, this is the gallery of the arena... fights between fighters are forbidden.

I'm still outside here......

"Um... shake hands with me too!

"Is it true that you defeated the dragon in the showdown of the Lemium Highlands? Let me talk to you!

"The sword made by Non, why don't you take it for once? So if you can, give me your thoughts…"

The men brought it up as they twisted.

"Yes, sir. I'm gonna line up there! My husband's not free, either!

When Zell said so, the men, who usually seemed to say, "It would be best to smash all the guys in line," lined up snuggly.

That, he said, was a very beautiful two-row column.

◆ ◆ ◆

Meanwhile, around that time, Primera was waiting for Bash at the entrance to the arena.

He was listening to the voices of people walking away from the arena, keeping their backs on the pillars near the entrance, arming themselves, irritated and poorly slammed.

"That 566 orc...... what do you think?

"Yabe."

"We're a long way from numbers... but what if we hit the main battle?

"I want to abstain..."

"Think seriously. If you win here, you can keep your name in history...!

"... then I guess I'm after the weapon. Bash. Oh, hey, he's tough enough to win a fight with ten orgasms at his leisure, but from what I've seen, weapons are a common substitute. Even the weapon was crooked every time. Aim for it, or I'll have a chance..."

"Oh, let me show you that the Martial Arts Festival is not just a kill."

Martial artefacts are common substitutes.

In those words, Primera's frustration accumulates.

In the past few days, Primera also knew that apparently Bash wasn't just an oak.

Ten qualifying games to this day, we didn't even struggle.

There were several opponents who apparently knew about Bash and were ready to die.

On the contrary, there were even those who leaked and cried out before the start of the game.

An athlete who was seen as a winning candidate came to scout and the audience grew each time Bash played the game.

It's rare to have spectators in it, even though there were rare audiences today, but it wasn't meant to be a real battle.

"I didn't think so when I heard the rumors, but it was real."

"Yabey. Where you leave the arena with your natural face after that win!

"It's numbing!

The voice of the returning audience is a tribute to Bash.

And...,

"But the weapon is not good."

"Oh, it was still bent today"

"That's until the main battle."

"Not very much, but you can't win..."

It's a criticism of Primera's weaponry.

(If he grabs Atashi's weapon better...)

Primera bit her teeth.

Apparently Bash was a famous warrior.

He was a fierce man with several martial arts medals on the battlefield.

But then, I want you to use your weapon better.

You know, if you use a stick like that to wield it, it should be self-evident that the weapon breaks.

A sword is one that erects a blade muscle and cuts it perpendicular to the target.

If you don't, and you swing by your power, it's natural to spill or bend the blade.

Even Primera, a blacksmith, knows about that.

Stand up and slash the blade muscle. You can't even do such a simple thing, what a famous warrior.

"You kept me waiting."

To such a voice, Primera raised her face bah.

There, as usual, was a bash of dumb surfaces that seemed to think nothing of.

In my hand, I have a brilliantly curved sword.

I also saw it from the audience, but it was still crooked.

"Give it to me!

Primera glanced seriously at the curved part as she snapped her sword.

And bite my teeth again.

My body is bent like a knife.

See you later.

This way of turning again.

Turn vertically, not horizontally.

It doesn't break, it bends.

What the hell kind of use would it make of such a bend?

I don't know.

Primera doesn't know.

At first I tried a lot of ideas not to bend like this, but I knew I would.

I don't know how I can stop bending.

So yell.

"The heck with it! Again! I don't know what to say when I put up my blade muscle and slash it!?

"That's what I'm gonna do."

"Han! You didn't make it!

Bash looked sorry for the words.

I guess I'm working hard with him.

Primera looked at it and lowered her drinks slightly.

I originally thought Primera could be anyone, such as a warrior. Even the weak warrior told me to let him win with his own weapon and show it.

So blaming a warrior for his lack of power is a mistake.

The warrior's power is too much than I thought, and I'm just upset.

"I'm going home! The main battle is about to start again."

Primera walking with her shoulders angry.

Bash follows me every day.

In Bash's ear, the fairy is whispering something.

I can't hear you whispering too low, but it would be Primera's bad mouth anyway.

"Shit!"

I couldn't hide my frustration, my tongue pounding leaked.

◆ ◆ ◆

Then three days later, the opening ceremony of the main battle of the Martial Arts Festival was held.

The ceremony was surrounded by a different atmosphere.

A full audience, the enthusiasm to get up.

In contrast, the fighters lined up inside the arena were quiet with Singh.

As always, the fighters wave up their weapons and roar at the audience to inspire their power, listening to the words of the organizers, the superiors of Dwarf.

Those who do not do so also burn their fighting spirit without concealing the warrior tremors.

Inside, I scream that I'm the strongest.

I'm the only one who wins all the battles.

With that feeling in his chest, running a giraffed eye around him is the fighter left in the finals.

But not this year.

More than half were nervous.

I was quiet, as if I were even frightened.

Some are freaking out and shivering.

Perhaps, fear.

There are even those who bluish their faces and are likely to cry in despair.

Most of those who do not are also upright immovable.

They have their chests stretched and their mouth angles are raised.

It's like saying I'm proud to be standing here right now.

I'm not just saying that I'm proud to be standing in the same place as him, not to be on this spot.

There are even those who are touched and likely to cry.

All they care about is one thing.

Behind the line.

Stand in the back the most, one man.

One oak, sparingly exposing his muscularly lumpy green flesh.

The Martial Arts Festival is a festival of warriors.

Many races participate, but those who remain in the finals are the mighty men of the war.

And to the mighty man of war, there is nothing that does not know him.

If there is one who does not know him, one who in the three years following the war abruptly represented the headline, or who was lucky not to be on the battlefield with the Orcs during the war.

No, with the latter, we'll know about the name and aliases.

"Mad Warrior," "Destroyer," "Kill All," "Raging Cow," "Haughty Arms," "Green Disaster," "Dragon Break," "Wrinkle Forest Nightmare."

We'll know about any one of those aliases.

Even if you can't tell the orcs from each other, you know they exist.

The presence of the 'Hero of Orcs' bash......

In such an atmosphere, the opening ceremony proceeded solemnly and eventually ended.

One of the fighters went back to the holding room without even roaring.

A venue dedicated to a different atmosphere than usual.

"You're so quiet this year. Have you changed the rules?

"You don't know? There was an anecdote behind the line, Orc, about everything, about defeating as many as 100,000 soldiers by himself during the war..."

"Fool. No. Can you do that?"

"Hey, the rumors I heard aren't the same. Anything. He..."

Rumors flowing through Makotoya.

Those who did not know Bash were flirted with by rumors, and those who knew questioned.

Why is he here?

"Again... that one thing"

"Well, I guess so. Oak can't be silent."

"I didn't expect you to send in a hero... the big merchants did too much"

"This year's tournament is going to be miserable..."

Some of them had conjectures.

But there's no way I can do anything.

They snorted in the face and could only wait in the face of tension for the start of the first game.

No one knows the truth, no matter what.