Chapter 51 You Are Playing Checkers? I Am Starting My Own Business
Kazh was born as an orc whose brains worked alongside his muscles— could even be interpreted as a deficiency of sorts if one truly looked at it from a different perspective.
At a very young age, he was aware that his people were… simple minded and easy to control. He did not mind it. Life was hard already with the snow storms and the limited food, but they were simple minded people. As long as they fed, got drunk and partied, everything was fine.
Things began to go wrong however when he realized the women of their tribe were falling ill tremendously. Just them. A sickness of some sorts that no one fully understood. They could not go beneath the mountains, not with the evil curse that roamed around it. Plus, they believed since they were up there, they were safe.
The sickness worsened.
Kazh wasn’t sure what to do. He was brain smart, yes, but he didn’t know how to cure illnesses. And he couldn’t go down the mountain on his own. He knew the elves might have even been able to help but they’ve never helped them as well so he was at a loss.
What he did know was that this… human woman was terrifying.
He did not know much about women, yes, but he wasn’t stupid. It was also not that she had some… magical strength that made her seem stronger in his eyes. He just… could tell she was far too knowledgeable for their good.
She knew how to act around them, and how to behave to earn their respect. Almost like she had knowledge of them. But how? How did she know? It made no sense.
And the people she walked with— that human man and beast. They radiated with an aura that made it clear harm to her would not be taken lightly. If anything, their aura was far more terrifying than hers… and yet, it was obvious that she controlled them and they willingly let it happen.
Willingly.
His machete slammed hard into the animal he had caught, the blood splattering all over his body. When he was done skinning it, he placed it over the ice he had placed in a bowl, washing it gently until it turned a light pink then placed it on the wood platter before gently rubbing herbs over it.
These were herbs that were usually picked for wounds or other similar things but he knew personally that they did not taste too terrible and it didn’t matter what herbs were used when a person knew how to roast their meat properly.
He was meticulous as he placed each cut piece on its stick, arranging it gently before placing it on the fire.
There was a technique to it.
Too close and the fat would hiss and burn, sealing bitterness into the flesh. Too far and the heat would dry it out, stealing what little tenderness the mountain animals possessed. Kazh adjusted the height by instinct, rotating the sticks at steady intervals, listening—not watching—for the change in sound. The fire spoke if you knew how to hear it.
He sprinkled salt last. Always last. Salt too early pulled the life out of the meat.
As it roasted, the smell shifted—iron and blood mellowing into something warmer, heavier. Familiar. Comforting. It reminded him of nights when the winter would lessen its cruelty on them. And they could leave their caves and sit together as a family.
It didn’t take long before he had each piece placed on a piece of cloth and then into a large bowl, hoping that as he walked into the mess hall to present such a rare and beautifully cooked meal with love, they would enjoy it.
How silly of him, one would say, ‘hoping’.
“Welcome. I was beginning to think you would not be arriving,” It was the human woman that came to the door and opened it for him. He let out a growl at her, baring his teeth in hopes that it would scare her away. It did not work. “Ah, can I take a piece—?”
He did not need to push her away before the man that she was with grabbed her by the coat she had on and pulled her to his side. His face was blank, as always, but Kazh didn’t miss the desire to kill as he said, “You may come in,”
The orc nodded, strangely feeling a bond of familiarity with the man before he fully stepped into the hall, his steps slowing down as he stared around in confusion.
The entire hall had been… refurnished. Redecorated? If that was the word. The whole place was polished, each table arranged in circles, the grimes and dirt from every surface completely gone. There was a table at the corner as well, that used to be a place where they would get drunk and topple over each other.
It now had five orcs in aprons and a strange looking thing over their head while other orcs lined up behind each one with their bowls in hand. Some were already seated, eaten with such minimal noise that Kazh was certain they had been possessed.
While he tried to stop the way his brain was practically short circuiting, an orc walked up to him with a pad in their hand, “Hello. Would you like to see our menu?”
Kazh could not believe his eyes. “Azog?”
Azog in question looked entirely different. His hair was now slick back, he had showered— Kazh could not remember the last time he or any of the men had cleaned up, and he had on a strange attire that covered the entirety of his body as well. “Shh. I am ‘waiter’ for tonight. Now, take the menu and pick anything. That is how the game starts. I shall hold your bowl for you as you look at it,”
Kazh did not react as Azog took his bowl while he received the pad. The only time any sort of new reaction came to his face was when his eyes scanned over the words on the pad— Heart of the mountain stew. Hunters smoke skewers. Cavebreath fermented sausage. Mirage pie. Clearpeak Consommé. Demon King’s feast. “Impossible. You could not have made six meals in such a short time,”
Maeve stood in front of him now, her head tilted in a strange angle as she put her hand behind her back and spread her legs like a soldier, “I can assure you. This is nothing compared to anything I have truly endured,”
Five children. Five. All on her to feed with scraps and she managed to help them grow perfectly well while making sure it was delicious enough for them not to throw it up consecutively.
All of this was nothing.
“Hunting all these animals down would take months—”
Maeve raised her hand, “Do not insult my butcher! He is very talented with the knife! And it was far too easy,”
“I did not say it was,”
Maeve acted like she didn’t hear him. Kazh moved closer to her. “This is not… a balanced fight. If you would use your… magic to win, and control my people—”
“Magic? Control? However do you mean?” Kazh could tell she was trying to sound honest but there was now a smug expression on her face that made him feel like he was truly speaking to the Demon King.
Maeve cleared her throat and continued. “I knew I could not handle all of this alone. So I called some of the orcs in and they were eager to help. I told them we are playing a game called Restaurant— you wouldn’t know it. It’s a modern thing— and promised them extra meals if they cleaned the mess hall and arranged it after giving them a taste. Which really helped majorly,”
She also climbed on top of the table an hour earlier and drilled them like an army sergeant, warning that her guard would send any person out who screamed too loudly and dared make a nuisance.
But Maeve saw no reason to let Kazh be aware of that.
Kazh, on the other hand, felt the uncomfortable feeling in his chest worsen. She had easily weaponized their desires against them, controlling them with an ease that unsettled him.
And by the smell wafting through the air… he understood why.
His stomach rumbled on cue, catching the attention of Maeve whose eyes zeroed on it before a leery expression came to her face, “Are you hungry?”
“No.” He hissed, even though his stomach protested. He snatched his bowl of meat back, growling at her as he said, “You may have won this round, but you know nothing of our music, and they will not help you in that round,”
Maeve only smiled. “Fine with me.”
He did not like that she seemed so reassured, or that she did not seem in the least scared of losing, but Kazh knew that time was not on his side and saw no reason to dwell longer so he stormed out, a new plan preparing in his mind.
If she wished to cut corners, so would he.