Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage

Chapter 186: Wildkin

CH186 Wildkin

***

Wildkin...

It’s a term—often used derogatorily—by the humans of the Pangea Realm to describe humanoid or demi-human races who, in their view, display more savagery than civilised intellect.

The usage of the term is incredibly loose, often hinging on the speaker’s personal bias or subjective interpretation of what constitutes ”savagery”.

Orcs, Ogres, Trolls, Goblins, Snakekin, Goatmen, Taurus... as long as a race was perceived to possess more primal aggression than cultured sophistication—at least by human standards—they were labelled as Wildkin.

Supporters of the term argue that it aptly encapsulates the primal essence of these beast-like peoples. However, more often than not, it obscures the fact that these races are not monolithic. Not all members of these races are mindless savages.

In truth, many individuals and tribes among these so-called Wildkin are highly intelligent and civilised.

Just as humans evolved from primitive beginnings as cavemen to their current state, so too are these races progressing—each at their own pace and in their own way.

In truly cosmopolitan regions like the Elven Elarion Empire, and even the DragonHold Enclave, one can find these so-called Wildkin living, working, and thriving alongside humans, elves, and dwarves.

Take the Orcs, for example.

In the DragonHold Enclave, Orc Shamans and Orc Blacksmiths are revered masters of their fields.

The Shamans, through bloodline synchronisation, rival even Elven warlocks in their communion with Laws of Life and Nature.

And the Blacksmiths—some of whom forge armaments to rival Dwarven craftsmanship—are nothing short of extraordinary.

Yet surprisingly, it is not the Orcs who suffer most under the weight of the term ’Wildkin’.

That burden falls to the Beastmen.

Ironically, the term ’Wildkin’ was never originally intended to apply to Beastmen. But due to the common portrayal of certain Beastmen races—such as Lizardmen and Goatmen—as savage, the entire category was swept up in the term by default.

Some believe this was no accident.

There are theories that human leaders, particularly those seeking power or control, deliberately blurred the lines. To them, the Beastmen were not only a potential threat... they were a resource.

Slavery...

Owing to the poor reputations of the earliest races referred to as Wildkin, society gradually adopted the idea that these races were natural slaves or expendable cannon fodder.

”At least their savagery could be put to civilised use”, was the common sentiment.

And that sentiment laid a dangerous precedent—one which human authorities weaponised against the Beastmen.

Lionmen, Tigermen, Wolfmen (distinct from lycans or werewolves) were born warriors; female Foxmen and Rabbitmen, often lauded for their enchanting beauty and alluring physiques, became highly sought after as sex slaves; Elephantmen, with their natural strength and endurance, were treated as superior beasts of burden—more valuable than horses or oxen.

These traits made Beastmen especially desirable to the nobles of the human empires.

And with the stigma of being branded ’Wildkin’—usually based on exaggerated or outright false claims of savagery—these races could now be legally enslaved, traded, and exploited with barely a murmur of protest.

In truth, they had become the targeted victims of the Wildkin label.

That said... did the Wildkin races earn their initial reputation out of nowhere?

Not exactly.

However, it’s also not as black-and-white as some would claim. The idea that Wildkins are inherently evil is a dangerous oversimplification.

The Pangea Realm is a world steeped in war. And war, by nature, knows no race, no moral high ground.

Every race—no matter how noble or enlightened—has blood on its hands.

Elves, Dragons, Gnomes, even the Fairies... all have histories written in blood and conquest.

So, when Wildkins waged war against humans, it wasn’t inherently evil.

It was simply... inevitable.

In Alex’s words...

”It is what it is... Our species are antithetical. For goblins to thrive... my people (humans) would have to suffer. That, as you must understand, I cannot allow.”

As this statement hold true for humanity, it also holds for the Wildkins as well.

What made the Wildkin truly stand out to humanity was their tendency to wage war without cause.

...No, not without cause... Without a reason that human leaders could understand.

More crucially, once these races started a war, they could not be reasoned with to stop—unless they were decisively crushed in a military confrontation.

For instance, the Virellian Empire once struck a deal with the Law Guardians of Dankrot Forest, choosing diplomacy over war. That proved how open human leaders were to negotiation—if it meant avoiding the massive drain on resources that war entailed.

Resources which could instead be funnelled into more ’profitable’ ventures... like conquering new lands or extracting more resource from existing ones.

Unfortunately, the Wildkin of the Ironmourn Desert were not like the Law Guardians of the Dankrot Forest.

Even when faced with overwhelming human strength and superiority, they would never come to the table for talks. They would simply fight... and if overpowered, retreat, only to return once again.

For context, Wildkin rarely reached the Legendary realm—Class 6. Many blamed this on their lower intellect, though only human supremacists pushed that as it was a convenient conspiracy theory. Meanwhile, the Virellian Empire alone boasted several Class 7 powerhouses.

And even under such oppressive strength, the Wildkin never surrendered. They only retreated to fight another day.

They couldn’t be reasoned with because their goals weren’t shaped by what humanity would call ’rational thinking’.

Most Wildkin Orc tribes, for example, waged war for a single reason—a glorious death in the heat of battle!

How does one negotiate peace with a people whose very ideal outcome could only be found on the battlefield you were trying to avoid?

As for goblins...

Even before the Virellian Prince discovered a realm entirely ruled by goblins, it had long been decided that goblins could not be allowed to breed unchecked—surprisingly, on humanitarian grounds.

Goblins mostly waged war to abduct humanoid females. Humanity became a major target due to its large population and biological compatibility.

The problem?

Women captured by goblins rarely survived in any true sense. What was left of them... was worse than death.

Thus, the decision to cull the goblin race had long been made—to protect the women of the primary intelligent races: humans, elves, dwarves.

When the Virellian Prince stumbled upon an actual goblin-ruled realm, it added a dangerous political dimension to the issue—lighting a greater fire beneath the already smouldering policy of extermination.

Then came the trolls.

Trolls were... lazy. And insatiable.

A dangerous combination.

They were innately simple creatures. Their greatest pleasures in life were twofold: eating and sleeping.

But their simplicity bordered on dangerous extremities.

With enough food, a troll could sleep away the rest of its life—its dream fulfilled.

So, why did trolls wage war?

They didn’t. They hunted. They raided and devoured anything in their path, all in a bid to eat themselves into a coma-like hibernation.

Unfortunately for everyone else, it was nearly impossible to satisfy a troll.

There was even a record of one devouring an entire Elder Dragon—flesh, bones, and all—in order to gather enough energy to finally drift off into the eternal slumber it so craved.

And mind you, Elder Dragons weren’t just massive, with weights coming in at the kilotons for some. They were peak-Class 6/ Legends, at the very least.

Each gram of their flesh contained more life energy than a thousand—no, a million—ordinary humans or beasts.

And even that was barely enough to fuel a single troll’s gluttonous ambition.

What did that mean?

Perhaps, even if every human and beast in the world were fed to the Troll race, it still wouldn’t be enough for them all to achieve their cherished dream.

In that case, even if one could negotiate with trolls, what goal could be offered to satisfy them?

Sure, trolls were stupid. They could be tricked.

But they weren’t that stupid. Not enough to remain fooled for their entire lifespan—which, by the way, was significantly longer than that of an Elite-ranked human... and that’s just for an ordinary troll.

As such, the reputations of these races—the original Wildkin—set the precedent for what the term came to mean: unreasonable savages.

Since reasoning with them was deemed impossible, the powers that be found another use for the Wildkins.

With a little generational propagan—no, narrative positioning—it gradually became a norm for many military-aged men, and even talented women, to rally under a noble’s banner to fight the Wildkin menace.

This, as it turned out, often bolstered a noble’s army far more than the Wildkins ever depleted it.

In other words, in the long run, nobles ended up with more troops because of the Wildkin attacks.

Thus, the incentive to truly end the conflict all but vanished—creating a vicious, self-sustaining loop.

The Wildkin attacked. Nobles exaggerated the impact. Affected individuals joined the noble armies. Skirmishes followed. And the cycle repeats.

That said, while most nobles benefited from the existence of Wildkins, not all of them were enthusiastic about diverting precious resources to deal with them.

Many preferred to pass the responsibility onto someone else.

And in more extreme cases, they simply paid others to resolve the problem on their behalf.

A problem solvable with wealth wasn’t a problem at all—as far as they were concerned. Especially if it spared their own precious hides.

And so, the Guardian Families came to be.

These were noble families whose designated duty was to protect the Empire from external threats—whether from other nations or from Wildkin raiding parties near their borders.

Of the two, the latter became their primary role, especially given how rare cross-border wars had become on the Arun continent.

The Fury Family was one such Guardian Family.

With their bloodline steeped in a lust for battle, and their lands bordering the Ironmourn Desert, it was only natural for the Fury family to step into that role.

Especially in the early days, shortly after Drake Fury became an Earl.

The wealth and prestige that came with being the Guardian of the North—well, technically, the Northwest—were pivotal in helping his Fury branch weather the storms of those formative years.

That recognition ushered in the golden era the entire Fury Family now enjoyed.

And so, should a noble house in the Northwest request aid under the pretext of a Wildkin threat—especially from the Ironmourn Desert—it was the Fury family’s noble obligation to respond...

Even if the family in question was a known enemy.

While Alex and his platoon were threading through Dankrot Forest, investigating the upheaval within...

The Wildkins of the Ironmourn Desert struck.

But this time, their primary target wasn’t Earl Drake Fury’s Dankrot Plains fief.

Instead, their attention turned westward—across the Empire’s internal border—into the pseudo-marquisate of the Killerman family.

And now, despite the ever-present tension between the two families...

The Killermans had formally requested aid from the Guardian Family of the Northwest.

And despite the bad blood...

Earl Drake Fury had no choice but to answer the call.

***