The orc groom, named Gorvak Ironfang, was an officer in the night patrol team of E-Rantel's southern district. His orc clan, the Ironfangs, once roamed the vast wilderness.
Years ago, after the Sorcerer Kingdom's army wiped out two-thirds of the Ironfang tribe, the survivors were forced to choose between total annihilation or relocation.
With only a third of their population left, they packed up and, under the "invitation" of the Sorcerer Kingdom, moved to E-Rantel. There, they became one of the poster children for "harmony among all races of the world."
The Sorcerer Kingdom used death threats as a stick and gold coins and grain as a carrot, rounding up different races to settle in E-Rantel like animals in a zoo. In no time, they whipped up a city that screamed "all races living together in peace."
…
On the ceremony platform, the orc shaman, with a silver ring pierced through his nose, shouted, "Honored guests, dear friends, in this awesome moment, let's dance for this happy couple, raise a glass to their fiery love, and wish their life's path always be covered with flowers and roasted meat!"
"But," he switched gears, "before we get to that, we gotta give a big shout-out to the greatest leader in the world—Supreme Overlord Ainz Ooal Gown!
"Without the badass Supreme Overlord, we wouldn't be chilling here together! Without the epic Supreme Overlord, we wouldn't have this sweet, peaceful life! Without the mighty Supreme Overlord, the groom and bride wouldn't have met, fallen for each other, or tied the knot!
"Everyone, on your feet! Join me in singing praises to the Supreme Overlord we worship, adore, and back with all we've got!"
With a loud rustle, everyone in the church stood up—cheerful orcs, grim-faced humans, every single one. Even the groom and bride shot up, standing tall and straight, all serious and proper.
Hands on their chests, they took a deep breath and sang in unison:
"The red sun in the sky is hot and bright.
"In our heart, Ainz is the sun!
"He leads us onward;
"Hand in hand, we will win!
"Ee-ya ee-zee-yo, Ya-r ya-zee-yo-ah!
"Hand in hand, we will win!
"The red sun in the sky is hot and bright
"In our heart, Ainz is the sun!
"He lets us drop our hatred.
"All tribes united, victory!
"Ee-ya ee-zee-yo, Ya-r ya-zee-yo-ah!
"All tribes united, victory! …"
EeDechi and Barrett were in the back row, standing up and pretending to sing, but their mouths barely moved.
Good thing everyone else was belting it out so loud, and with the church's echo, all the voices blended together. No one noticed they were faking it.
After the big, booming choir wrapped up, everyone plopped back into their seats. The musicians fired up the accordion again, playing a sweet tune perfect for the wedding vibe.
Up on the platform, the orc shaman with a silver ring in his nose turned to the bride. "Willow Garcia, through war or peace, sickness or health, death or new life, will you take care of him, love him, and serve him for the rest of your days?"
"I…" The gorgeous bride, Willow Garcia, turned her head away in despair, two sparkling tears rolling down her cheeks. "I…"
""I OBJECT!" A deep, gutsy shout drowned out the accordion's gentle melody.
All eyes snapped to the intruder. A beefy human guy stood in the middle of the church aisle, a longsword strapped to his waist, decked out in leather armor. His face wasn't exactly drop-dead gorgeous, but he looked strong as hell.
"I'm throwing down a duel for this beautiful woman's hand. You orc pussy got the balls to fight me?" Barrett stole the spotlight, jabbing his arm straight at the orc groom on the platform.
For orcs, might makes right—they settle shit with their fists. The stronger you are, the more you rule the tribe and get dibs on mating.
Duels are just another Tuesday for orcs. Sure, E-Rantel bans random brawls and magic, but the Sorcerer Kingdom gives a nod to each race's traditions. Legal fights are fair game.
"!￥%…┷┤@!@#$%…╈┷┤@!┫┄#&%…┾┣&@#!…&^%…#*(…" The elf ranger Vaelynn translated it flawlessly into orcish.
Her translation didn't really do much—pretty much every non-human in E-Rantel could understand the common tongue. But it was more about sending a message: I know orc customs, and refusing a duel is a slap in the face to their pride.
To the right, below the platform, the bride's family sat with gloomy faces. When they saw Barrett storm in to crash the wedding, their eyes lit up with awe and hope.
The orc groom up on the platform was a patrol officer in E-Rantel, a total beast in a fight. But Barrett? He screamed veteran adventurer. Maybe, just maybe, he could take down the groom and save the bride from this mess.
Sure, this human adventurer looked like a rough bastard too—mean eyes, muscles just as jacked as any orc. But marrying a human still beat the hell out of marrying an orc, hands down.
Plus, if this adventurer could actually beat the orc groom, a little cash might convince him to hand the bride back to her parents' arms. That's what her family under the guest seats was banking on.
On the left side of the church, the orcs glared at Barrett and the sword hanging at his waist, their eyes dripping with bad vibes. Up on the platform, the orc groom ripped off his red bowtie and shrugged out of his suit, ready to throw down.
A gnarled wooden staff shot forward, blocking the orc groom before he could leap off the platform. The orc shaman holding the staff had ice in his eyes. He leaned in, whispering something in the groom's ear. The groom hesitated for a second, then pulled back the foot he'd been about to launch off the stage.
The older orc shaman wasn't nearly as hotheaded as the rest of his kind. To him, they didn't even need to bother with Barrett—just keep the wedding rolling. A seasoned human adventurer like Barrett was a pain in the ass to deal with, too unpredictable.
The orc groom flashed a grin full of jagged, yellow teeth. "If you wanna duel me…"
"Nah," Barrett cut him off, "it ain't you and me duking it out. It's my boss, the Holy Mute Knight from Baharuth!"
He stepped aside with a bow, revealing EeDechi standing behind him. EeDechi wore a wide-brimmed felt hat, head tilted down so no one could see her face.
"Knight?" The orc groom eyeballed EeDechi's scrawny frame and burst into loud, obnoxious laughter. "He's gotta be the shortest damn knight I've ever seen!"
The orcs below the guest seats roared with laughter too. They'd figured Barrett was the one throwing down, not some shrimp of a knight with him as a sidekick. This pint-sized knight must've been drunk on noble glory, trying to pull off a cheesy hero-saves-the-damsel stunt.
The bride's family, who'd been riding high on hope, deflated fast. They dropped their heads and sighed, muttering about how Baharuth's knights could be so damn stupid.
The orc shaman raised his staff, casting a quick detection spell. He didn't pick up any strength-boosting magic gear on EeDechi. With a nod to the groom, he signaled it was cool to take the challenge.
With everyone in the church as witnesses, both sides signed a legit-looking duel contract. They even showed it to a death knight patrolling nearby. Orcs usually didn't mess with paperwork, but in E-Rantel, they had to play by some civilized rules.
In the middle of the church, people cleared out a space. The orc groom, Gorvak Ironfang, and EeDechi stood face-to-face. Since Barrett's crew were the ones who called for the duel, the orcs got to pick the rules. The orc shaman deliberately chose bare-knuckle brawling—no weapons allowed.
EeDechi flipped up her hat, revealing a head of dazzling blonde hair. Her face was smeared with wild tribal tattoos that Barrett had scribbled on, making her look like a total mess.
"RIP HIM APART!RIP HIM APART! RIP HIM APART!…" The watching orcs hollered and jeered, picturing EeDechi's blood splattering everywhere. The savage itch in their veins was begging to come out.
Gorvak Ironfang, shirtless, towered over EeDechi, staring her down. He flexed his knotted, muscly arms, a cruel grin splitting his face.
In E-Rantel, it'd been ages since he'd gotten to kill or fight to his heart's content. The Sorcerer Kingdom's iron grip kept the orcs' natural urge to brawl locked down tight. Now some human had walked right up to him, begging for a beatdown—he was gonna let all that pent-up bloodlust loose.
"ROAR!" Gorvak Ironfang let out a hyped-up bellow, swinging a fist like a battering ram straight at EeDechi.
EeDechi didn't flinch. She sidestepped, bent her knees, grabbed the orc's swinging arm, and spun around to his back. A sickening crunch of breaking bones rang out from his arm. With a slick over-the-shoulder throw, she flung Gorvak Ironfang into the air and slammed him hard into the ground!
"BOOM!" The sound of something heavy crashing shook the whole church, dust raining down from the walls. Gorvak Ironfang's body sank right into the floor.
EeDechi let go of the orc's shattered arm and stepped back. Gorvak Ironfang saw stars, struggling for a bit before dragging himself up, staring in disbelief at his right hand, now limp as a noodle.
But Gorvak Ironfang still had one good arm. He wasn't about to quit. Roaring, he charged at EeDechi again.
EeDechi threw a single punch. Gorvak Ironfang's gut caved in, his body flying sideways, smashing through three marble support pillars before slamming into the wall, stuck there like some freaky display.
"…"
A long silence hung in the air. The watching orcs and humans just stared at each other. The bare-knuckle fight started, and in less than five seconds, Gorvak Ironfang—officer of E-Rantel's night patrol—was down for the count, maybe even dead. It didn't even feel real.
Finally, the bride's family erupted into wild cheers, popping champagne and waving it around. Still in her pure white wedding dress, the bride cried tears of joy, rushing over to kiss EeDechi.
EeDechi pushed the starry-eyed bride away with one hand, chuckling softly, "One good deed a day."
A few orcs scrambled to pull Gorvak Ironfang out of the wall. The orc shaman gawked at EeDechi, raising his staff and pointing at her, stammering, "You… you…"
"Looks like a wedding turned into a funeral," Barrett said, clapping the orc shaman on the shoulder. The three adventurers and the elf ranger strolled out of the church.
A crowd was gathering outside the church, buzzing with chatter. The ruckus EeDechi had just caused was no joke—the boom of slamming that orc into the wall must've echoed miles away. The group picked up the pace, darting through a couple of alleys to shake off any nosy onlookers.
EeDechi, a wanted fugitive in the Sorcerer Kingdom, had to play it smart wandering around on their turf.
The elf Vaelynn kept eyeballing EeDechi with a mix of shock and awe. To her, EeDechi was basically a freaking beast. She kept staring at her, which made EeDechi uncomfortable, giving her the unsettling feeling of being watched, as though someone was spying on her.
"I've never seen a human this damn strong before," Vaelynn said. "For real, you're not some dragon half-breed, are you?"
"The captain's no dragon mix—he's pure human," Franco chimed in.
"For a human to get this badass, you're not from the Slane Theocracy, are you?" Vaelynn ignored Franco, still locked on EeDechi. She muttered to herself, "Nah… doesn't seem like one of those Slane Theocracy holy rollers."
After seeing EeDechi in action, Vaelynn's curiosity was practically bursting. She pressed on, "Why didn't you take the bride with you? I think you two would've hit it off."
Franco squirmed a little. He'd finally gotten cozy with this hot elf chick, on the verge of something more than friendship—he couldn't let EeDechi steal the spotlight.
He leaned close to Vaelynn's ear, pointing at EeDechi and whispering, "The captain's not into girls."
"What?!" Vaelynn's eyes popped wide, pure disbelief written all over her face. She cautiously asked Franco, "Wait, is your captain… you know…?"
"Yup, exactly that," Franco nodded, dead serious.
"No wonder…" Vaelynn's face lit up like she'd just cracked the code, thinking she'd figured out why EeDechi wasn't giving her the time of day.
EeDechi shot Franco a death glare, plotting to give him a solid ass-kicking once they were alone. Right now, she was posing as a guy—a quiet, blonde adventurer type—and couldn't exactly set the record straight.