Lewd Dungeon Master: This Orc Is Too Damn OP!-Chapter 232: Surviving Is Winning

Most of the time in dungeons, humans attack and monsters fight back.

Adventurers attack to destroy dungeons, and monsters risk their lives to protect the dungeon following the dungeon master’s orders.

And when monsters go on the offensive, there are dungeon Seizure Battles between dungeon masters. Monsters always attack, and monsters on the opposite side always defend.

But this situation was a first.

Furcas, master of Solomon’s 50th dungeon and commander of Halphas legion’s ’Pale Rider’ unit, charging in, had the illusion he’d entered the wrong place looking at the enemy camp’s state.

"What’s going on?"

His subordinate Pale Riders were already charging toward enemy lines swinging scythes. The enemy in the opposing camp was nothing but human adventurers in leather armor.

There was one elf, but that wasn’t an important issue. There were some elves who left the forest to adventure in the world, and one elf among about 50 or so human adventurers wasn’t a problem at all.

But if those beings were ’inside the dungeon of a Seizure Battle,’ a big problem arose. Furcas had to quickly judge the situation he’d been given.

He’d sent fairly strong slave soldiers at the front but received no victory report. So the lowest-ranked executive dungeon master of the legion suitable for dealing with the 63rd dungeon, Furcas, led subordinates and ran through the dungeon.

He’d come to kill enemy monsters, but there were no monsters—just human adventurers.

’Could Andras have been captured by adventurers?’

If Andras had been captured by humans right when the Seizure Battle broke out, things would be way too easy. Beat the humans, rescue Andras, present her to Halphas, and Furcas might be granted a name in the 40th range at least.

’And besides, the enemy is human.’

Killing humans—that was an instinct carved into monsters’ bones, and his Pale Riders were beings no different from reapers delivering such death.

’I’ll sweep them in one go.’

Unless a hero wielding a holy sword jumped out, no human could stop the Pale Riders’ charge.

Kiaaaaaah—!!

The moment the lead Pale Rider raised a scythe high about to swing, two figures jumped out from among the humans. One was a 2-meter giant in dented full body armor, and the other—

"An orc?!"

A potbellied orc in a brown robe jumped out, dual axes in hand, and met the Pale Rider unit head-on.

"Why is an orc coming out of there?"

An orc jumping out from among humans? Could this be the rumored domesticated slave orc? At the moment Furcas shuddered at human cruelty—

"""Raaas!!"""

With an unidentified war cry, the orc and giant bodily blocked the Pale Riders’ charge. The pale horses carrying black-robed reapers slammed their heads directly into the orc and giant.

"Uooooh!!"

Kwaaang!!

The two giants physically blocked the Pale Riders’ advance by sheer force. The orc and giant who stupidly stopped a full-speed cavalry charge with their bodies became living barricades and blocked the Pale Riders.

Neeeeigh!!

"What the—?!"

They stopped them. Their bodies slid back slightly, but they stopped the charging cavalry’s head-on rush by meeting force with force. And the two didn’t end it at just that.

"Raaaaas!!"

With that unidentified battle cry, the orc with red tattoos flashing on his face swung his right-hand axe and slashed the horse’s neck.

Fwoooosh!!

A blue blood fountain shot up from the clean-cut cross section, and the orc took the blood shower directly while swinging the other axe.

Clang!

The Pale Rider’s scythe clashed with the orc’s axe. With a bone-chilling metallic screech, sparks flew, and the Pale Rider recovered the scythe and swung it horizontally. It looked set to cut the orc’s torso in two.

Slice!

The Pale Rider’s scythe cut through the robe. But for some reason, couldn’t cut the waist. The orc grinned and reached out toward the Pale Rider.

"Spine Breaker!!"

Shhhnk!

The orc swung the axe and cut through the Pale Rider’s spine. Both had tried to cut each other’s waist in two, but only the orc managed to cut the Pale Rider’s waist horizontally.

Smack!

The full plate giant beside him also grabbed a Pale Rider’s pelvis and yanked out the spine. Below the gauntlet cut by the scythe, something that looked like a thin black sleeve was visible.

"Damn! Flankers spread out left and right and advance!"

Confirming the two lead riders were taken out in an instant, Furcas shouted at the top of his lungs and scattered his subordinates. With the orc and giant blocking the center, the following Pale Riders had to turn their mounts left and right.

And they had to take the humans’ barrage with their bodies.

"Fire!"

Bababang!

Bolts and arrows rained down mercilessly and covered the Pale Riders. The humans cleverly concentrated fire on the horses the Pale Riders were riding, sending them crashing to the ground.

Neeeeigh!!

The horses that already looked like walking corpses became pincushions with arrows and crashed to the ground. The riders on top didn’t escape either.

"Uooooh!!"

The orc using brute force, the giant using its freakishly long arms, grabbed riders falling from horses and slammed them to the ground. Riders grabbed by the orc were smashed to pieces and fell limply, but the rider grabbed by the giant swung a scythe and bashed the giant’s helmet.

Sliiice!!

The helmet was cut off at a diagonal. Furcas felt slight satisfaction at killing one. Now if they killed them one by one—

"A ghoul?"

Grrrr!

The giant that had its head slightly cut to the point of forming a cross-section was a ghoul in armor. That sight made Furcas lose his mind for a moment.

An orc and ghoul standing in front of humans as shield-bearers, with humans aiming and shooting from behind with an elf so those two don’t get hit?

"Am I really attacking in a Seizure Battle right now...?"

Either adventurers had enslaved orcs and ghouls, or the enemy dungeon master was a pervert who used humans as combat force. Either way, he needed a moment to collect his thoughts.

"Retreat!"

Following Furcas’s order, the Pale Riders turned their mounts and began retreating.

***

"Pale Riders? Those are Skeleton ★★★ class. Holy shit, so Furcas bastard joined up with Halphas."

Gremory was appalled at the information relayed from Shaitan. Dungeon masters did know each other here and there, but Furcas wasn’t the type to enter under someone and lead the vanguard.

Then there had to be a reason. Just as Rok and Shaitan were making the same deduction, Gremory was also guessing close to certainty.

"The enemy is a legion."

It was essentially the first battle against another legion. Amy opened a portal to her, but Halphas directly opened a portal to Rok’s dungeon.

’Three days of continued offensive, one day rest. And after that, they’ll fight until one side dies.’

Could the Legion of Wrath overcome Halphas’s legion? Gremory was naturally anxious knowing the enemy’s forces to some degree, but didn’t feel like they’d lose.

’Surviving is winning.’

Rok might give up being dungeon master if he could just save his subordinates. Even if that would never happen, she could steel herself thinking he was a being with that level of conviction.

"Hehe, when he comes back with his house robbed, I’ll have to be there to catch him. Hehehe."

"Catch him with what, may I ask."

"Catch the tears flowing down below, is what I mean. Welcome, kid. Every time I see you, you really don’t look like your dad, your mom, or your grandpa."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Of course."

The formally dressed paladin Galahad arrived as reinforcement while stomping on a burning snake flipping on the ground. Gremory felt dizzy at the lingering divine power shimmering on his shoes.

This fight—hers to win.

"We need to clean this up quickly and go support the main force."

"Didn’t Master send adventurers to support the main force?"

"That’s not enough. Pale Riders at minimum are 3 to 4-star as a baseline."

Gremory briefly mentioned the characteristics of undead monsters. Up to 2-star they look ordinary and similar, but from 3-star individual species characteristics emerge.

"Horse and skeleton come as a set. Have you seen black skeletons? Halphas is a weird bastard who makes subordinates paint themselves in his signature black color. Selectively bred until black individuals appeared."

"Then the obsession with Andras is because Andras is black?"

"No. She violated a harpy that originally existed and planted seed inside. Even cast a curse. So that no matter whose sperm she received, she could only birth his offspring. ...Though the Legion Commander personally shafted Halphas by killing that Andras! Hahaha."

"...Isn’t the current Andras in danger then?"

Galahad couldn’t help worrying with anxiety. But Gremory just tidied her disheveled hair and chuckled.

"Not at all. You think Halphas was going after the previous Andras just to have her? She was a half-sibling. Everyone kept it quiet and hush-hush."

"...An incomprehensible being."

"Right? Everyone called her every filthy name in the book, calling her a horny little bird. ...Thanks to which our legion is taking tremendous damage right now."

Thanks to Andras’s dungeon, Rok’s legion could grow rapidly, but every action always comes with an equal and opposite consequence. The Legion of Wrath had gained enormous benefit through Andras, but in exchange, had to eat Halphas’s one-sided surprise offensive declaration for three days.

"It’ll be a long fight. If those human bastards happen to raid Ras Vegas on top of everything else, a situation may arise where we have to give something up. So we need to clean this up here as fast as possible. Galahad, if you see Amy, kill him immediately."

"...Gremory. I have a plan."

Galahad spread divine power across his drawn sword and grinned fiercely.

"We don’t necessarily need to kill Amy... do we?"

"...."

Gremory’s expression hardened.

***

Scratch, scratch.

In a factory without a single point of light, one weaving machine rattled away. A white-haired old man relied entirely on moonlight for his vision as he pulled thread.

"...Finally."

The old man looked at the black silk and let out a deep sigh. Sweat flowed all over his body and dark circles hung heavily under his eyes, but the old man’s face was full of smiles.

"Elder!"

The factory door burst open and a woman strode toward the old man.

"What is it."

"All the orcs have pulled out! The remaining orc guards are barely under ten!"

The woman spread both arms in joy.

"Now we can escape too! Tonight’s our chance!"

"...."

Those who couldn’t escape Zabiyaba and had given up on leaving. They’d lived under the protection of orcs and all kinds of monsters, but some among them had been scheming to run away.

"We don’t have to watch humans and monsters going at it while passing by anymore! Elder, tonight’s our only chance!"

"I’m not going."

"Elder!!"

"If you’re leaving, you and your group go. I’ve become someone who can no longer leave this place."

The old man, the union boss, lit a candle. Red flames began burning and lit the surroundings, and all kinds of designs lay scattered across the floor around the old man. The woman picked up one design and cried out.

"Why does this matter!"

"To me, it matters. I’ve devoted 40 years of my life to making cloth. The skills honed over those 40 years were all for these days."

"Elder!!"

"Why hadn’t I thought of clothing like this before? My child, I’ve laid hands on a forbidden art. I can no longer escape from his, that orc’s, forbidden knowledge."

The union boss pulled out a parchment carefully placed on the floor. In the sketch drawn by the orc with a quill pen was a black outfit that clung tight to a human body.

"Look at this. How could I leave this behind?"

"Just what on earth is this, is this thing?!"

"Ahh."

The old man picked up the design with a face full of madness.

"This is called a ’schoolgirl uniform.’"