The Insane Regressor: Throne of Pride

”Shiro? What brings you here, man? Shouldn’t you be preparing the Feast of Death?” one of the guards asked teasingly as Ravian approached.

’Shiro? So that’s this orc’s name... Wait!! Did he say feast?!’

Ravian froze for a moment too brief for either Ninth-Rank orc to notice as he realized that the orc he was impersonating was responsible for some sort of feast in the camp.

”I know, man. I was just heading out to get a few ingredients I need for it,” Ravian replied in his orcish guise.

”Ingredients?” One of the orcs frowned in confusion. ”Why didn’t you send one of your underlings instead of going yourself, man? And what could you possibly need that isn’t already in the camp’s stores?”

’There’s a storeroom here?’

That could be good news for Ravian. Although he had been planning something entirely different to wipe out the camp, this feast did not sound like a bad opportunity; in fact, it presented a rather interesting challenge. Judging by the two guards’ behavior, they seemed to be under orders not to let anyone leave, which meant his original plan had already fallen through.

Now, however, another possibility had occurred to him, provided he could make proper use of this feast.

’But why the hell do they call it the Feast of Death?’

That was the one thing he was curious about now.

”Shiro? You all right, man?” one of the orcs asked, giving his shoulder a light nudge.

Ravian immediately looked up at him, nearly startling the guard.

”Man!” The guard punched his shoulder playfully. ”You just scared the shit out of me.”

Realizing that his gaze had been far too cold, Ravian quickly replaced it with what he thought was a charming smile.

”Ah, my bad. It’s fine, guys. I wanted to look for a special ingredient myself, but now that you’ve mentioned it, I suppose I’ll save some time and check the stores instead.”

With that, Ravian promptly turned and headed back into the camp.

The guards watched him walk away until he was out of sight, then one turned to the other with a look of disgust.

”Don’t you think Shiro’s acting a little strange?” asked the guard on the right.

”You noticed it too? What was that fatass smile that he gave us? I nearly puked when I saw it.”

”Kwa-ha-ha-ha! That ugly bastard must have lost his mind over the battle we’re heading into after dawn.”

The two continued laughing at Ravian, who had assumed that his smile retained the same charm in this form as it did in his human appearance. It was fortunate that he could not hear them, or he might have ruined the entire plan in a fit of anger and killed another two Ninth-Rank orcs.

...

’Here we are at last.’

Ravian finally found what they called the camp’s storeroom, recognizing it by its size. It was the only tent larger than the Eighth-Rank commander’s, the one he had watched that orc emerge from twice before.

The tent before him was almost twice as large as the commander’s.

On his way here, Ravian had encountered several orcs, all Tenth-Rank Awakened, and almost every one of them had asked about the Feast of Death. Those conversations had revealed something particularly interesting about this orc named Shiro.

He was the camp’s head cook, and somehow, he and his unawakened underlings were expected to prepare a feast for the entire camp before the troops set out to fight the humans after dawn.

Those humans, of course, belonged to the Viera Empire’s camp, currently under his teacher’s command.

Unfortunately for the orcs here, that only made Ravian more determined to carry out his plan against them—and as quickly as possible.

...

Ravian entered the camp’s storeroom.

The smell of stored meat and damp hides greeted him before his eyes adjusted to the dim interior, revealing sacks piled along either side of a narrow aisle and wooden crates bearing various markings. Cuts of dried meat hung from the supports overhead, though he could not identify what creatures they had come from and had little desire to investigate, afraid they might be human. Their size and the proportion of fat to flesh made that seem unlikely, but the thought was unpleasant enough.

He lowered the entrance flap behind him and paused to listen to the sounds outside, then made his way between the crates, examining the markings. Some were merely crude drawings indicating the contents, but the tags attached to the smaller containers bore words he could read easily. His gaze moved between them until he found what he was looking for across from the food supplies, near a bundle of arrowheads that had yet to be fitted to shafts.

His smile faded when he opened the first container.

’Damn!’

A pungent odor rose from it, making him immediately replace the lid. He lifted the attached tag and read the two engraved lines about animal oils or something along those lines, then set it aside and tried the next container. Its contents were thicker and darker, with some clinging to the underside of the lid in an oily smear, while the tag warned of a bitter taste and damage to weapon edges if it was left on them too long.

’Of course, why would you guys keep anything that might make my job easier? How can I possibly thank you for this?’

There were certainly poisons here, some bearing more warnings than others, but none of those he had examined was suitable for a pot that would feed the entire camp. The smell of one would raise suspicions before a spoon even reached anyone’s mouth, while another would turn the food a color that even a starving orc would avoid.

Ravian glanced at his green hand, then returned the last container to its place as he considered the bodies he wanted to dispose of. Most of these poisons were intended to enter through wounds in battle and kill the injured victim, and he had no guarantee that mixing them into food would produce the same result, especially against those Walkers and their damned Eighth-Rank commander.

He stood before the shelf for a few moments, running his thumb along the edge of the tag he held until his eyes settled on a short note near the bottom.

The maker of one poison had complained that certain other substances spoiled its effects, turning the violent reaction it caused in the victim’s body into a lingering lethargy that was difficult to shake off.

Ravian read the sentence again, then raised his head slightly.

’Hohoho, look what I’ve found here, guys...’