Chapter 13: Shattered Hopes and a Dwarven Surprise

Screeech…

THUD—

The rusty metallic sound was followed by a gaunt, mummy-like man being thrown into what looked like a prison camp.

“Urgh… ugh… gasp…”

He looked utterly emaciated, as if he’d been tortured. Seeing his near-wrecked body, the dwarf felt a pang of sympathy, approached him, and handed him some rationed water.

“Poor guy, squeezed dry yesterday and today… Sigh. Those pointy-eared freaks are definitely the demon’s lackeys.”

“Gasp… Ugh… I almost died this time. If it was even a little later… gasp… I’d have died from exhaustion.”

“No need to spell it out, I can see it. Just look at your sorry state, Veldum. All those impressive, bulging muscles—poof, gone.”

At the dwarf’s words, the elf man glanced down at his body, his face turning sorrowful as he began to wail loud enough to shake the camp.

“Waaah…! My… my glorious, chiseled muscles turned into flabby twigs…!”

“Veldum, calm down and stop crying. Didn’t you say crying causes muscle loss?”

“Ugh, right. Thanks, Stroheim. Without you, I’d have made my muscle loss even worse.”

Sniffling, the elf slowly calmed his grief. Glancing at the lavish rations at his spot, he threw a question at the dwarf.

“By the way, where’s Kotath? He went out with me this morning, so why hasn’t he returned?”

“Don’t worry about that traitor. He’ll survive somehow. An orc second only to none in stamina, isn’t he?”

“Traitor, huh… Well, if he hadn’t been swayed by the word ‘gourmet,’ we might’ve had a fighting chance. That’s a bit of a shame.”

“A fighting chance? I doubt it. Even with him, we’d just delay our capture a bit. I’d bet my masterpiece on it.”

They’d unleashed enough firepower to level a mid-sized city, yet only a few trees were singed.

He was sure they’d dealt a meaningful blow to the elves, but even that only left a few scorched hairs.

If even the gourmet-loving orc hadn’t betrayed them, would the outcome have changed?

Finishing his thoughts, Stroheim shook his head and spoke.

“Right now, we can only pin our hopes on Carl. He hasn’t been brought to the camp yet, which means he’s got someone’s help. If even he falls…”

“Even an idiot like me knows that much. We’d end our lives as studs for those mating-crazed freaks. Ugh, if that happens, this noble journey of ours loses all meaning.”

“I hope Carl pulls through… Tch, now I’m regretting it. If I’d known they were this crazy, I’d have used all my firepower from the start.”

“That wasn’t your max output?”

“There’s one thing I didn’t use. My so-called ‘excellent conversation piece.’ Sadly, it’s in the hands of those damn pointy-ears now.”

What kind of dangerous weapon could make even this mad dwarf say that?

Veldum tried to imagine its power but shook his head.

It’d probably exceed his imagination, as always.

With that trademark dwarven pride, no less.

‘Why were Kotath and I dragged here, but not Stroheim? Is there a reason?’

As the question crossed his mind, Veldum and Stroheim sensed multiple presences approaching the “camp.”

‘Kotath? He must’ve been squeezed even worse than me. I should offer some lighthearted comfort.’

What would work? Maybe a casual joke?

Grinning and thinking of what to say, Veldum’s sensitive, large ears soon picked up that it wasn’t Kotath approaching.

“Kotath’s barefoot… This is the sound of boots. Could it be…!”

Did Carl get caught too?!

With heavy hearts, Veldum and Stroheim stared at the entrance as the sound of boots grew closer.

‘The last spark of hope, extinguished so easily!’

‘Did I put my faith in the wrong guy? His whole journey was about ‘finding a bride,’ so… I guess I hoped for too much.’

Drooping with rising disappointment, they heard the rusty screech again as Carl entered the camp. Seeing him clean, unbound by any restraints, they cheered with joy.

“What, Carl! You here to save us?!”

“I knew we could count on you, Fasible! Living up to your name today!”

A ray of hope in the grim camp.

Other studs began looking at him with expectant eyes, but—

“Nah, I got caught too.”

With two simple words, Carl shattered everyone’s hopes.

Inside the camp.

The captured studs, their groins dangling, began glaring at me with murderous intent.

Fair enough.

What they thought was their hope turned to despair in an instant.

Blaming me, the cause of it, is probably natural.

But their stares were way too intense.

If it were pretty elves glaring, maybe I’d cope, but feeling the heated gazes of hairy, rugged men?

“Ughhh…”

I couldn’t help but gag.

Still, in this heavy, hostile atmosphere, I had to do what needed to be done.

To end this miserable life in the damn Great Forest.

Whirr—

As Carl entered the camp, a mana storm swept through, signaling the contract’s completion.

Now, the elves couldn’t attack me or the priestess until we left the Great Forest.

Of course, if I accidentally attacked them, the deal would be voided instantly.

But since I had no intention of attacking directly, the contract would hold until we escaped.

“That was a weird deal, but thanks for honoring it cleanly. So, witch? Mind leaving the stud farm now? It’s kind of an important place for us.”

“Don’t rush me. I was already planning to get out of this filthy place as fast as possible.”

The place reeked of a damp, musky stench from all sorts of mixed odors.

Not quite as bad as stinky tofu, but bad enough to give me a headache.

Why would I want to stay?

No man would want to linger, watching emaciated males with sagging groins from endless seed extraction.

Shaking my head, I met the sly smile of the elf looking down at me and spoke.

“By the way, why’ve you been giving me that look? Got some scheme up your sleeve?”

“A misunderstanding. I’m just pleased the deal went smoothly and we got that ‘top-tier virgin’ you promised. I’m more curious why you would say that.”

“Oh, I heard somewhere that the noble forest race often speaks with two tongues.”

The elf’s sly smile cracked, replaced by ugly anger.

What, feeling bad because I stabbed you with facts?

But it’s true—you are that kind of race.

Twisting contract loopholes to ensure you never lose, more demonic than demons themselves, leaving conscience and pride back in the forest.

Mimicking her sly smile, I whispered softly in the lead elf’s ear.

“You’ve already prepared every trick, haven’t you? Since ‘elves’ can’t attack, you’ll use other races or beasts, or maybe bombard us with magic and arrows the moment we leave the forest.”

“…!”

“You think I wouldn’t know? Why else would I drag myself to this dirty, sordid place?”

If the elves in the original story weren’t so vile, I’d have handed over the protagonist and fled with the priestess from the start.

No need to make enemies and complicate things.

But the elves in the original were crazier than even the supposedly evil demons.

To survive them, you have to match their insanity with your own.

Whispering quietly and stepping back, the lead elf chuckled and changed her expression.

“As expected, not a dumb witch. But what can you do? You’re in the heart of the Great Forest. Knowing doesn’t change anything.”

“If I couldn’t do anything, I wouldn’t have crawled in here, you idiot.”

“What?”

“I came because this is the only place with a chance.”

I pulled out Stroheim’s bag, which I’d gotten under the pretense of wanting to study it, and tossed it to Carl, shouting.

“Carl! Throw it to Stroheim!”

“…This was your plan all along?”

“Obviously!”

In a mana-suppressing environment where no one could use power, only one captive could.

The dwarf scientist Stroheim, who wielded “scientific” weapons without mana or aura.

Only he could unleash his full strength in this hopeless place.

“Hoo, didn’t expect to pull this out here.”

Rip!

Receiving the bag, Stroheim tore his intact pants to shreds without hesitation.

Pulling out a massive, glorious cannon from his groin area, he shouted at the elves.

“Now, elves! What do you think of this thick, long, and mighty piece?!”

The elves’ response?

“He’s… he’s castrated*! He was supposed to be top-tier!”

It was beyond imagination.