The Record of Orc Civilization - Chapter 438: Shadows in the Command Room

Kuja was the son of Nevare, the primary cause of the fall of Heles City. Furthermore, the Human Alliance knew Kuja was the grandson of their King—the son of Prince Moku. It was only natural he would be their prime target.

However, they had failed to realize that Kuja had grown exponentially stronger since his defeat against Artur. Boku still remembered the doubt and fear in the boy’s eyes before the assault on Heles. Now, Kuja had transformed into a true Asura—one who no longer knew the meaning of hesitation.

“Even so, if this was truly an ambush meant for Kuja, how did they know his movement patterns? The only ones with that certainty are those within this command room and the Druid intelligence teams.”

Boku pivoted, his gaze piercing the darkest corner of the room. The shadows there seemed to writhe, as if detaching themselves from the glow of the mana crystals.

“Nerphyl,” Boku called out.

From the darkness, a figure stepped forward without a sound. Nerphyl wore no heavy plate, but was instead clad in light-absorbing black leather. His eyes were entirely white, devoid of a single blemish.

“I have sifted through the mind of every Druid tasked with guiding Kuja’s unit. Not one of them knew the enemy’s true strength. Based on their scouting, the opposition should not have been that numerous, nor that powerful,” Nerphyl said, anticipating Boku’s question.

“I do not believe in accidents,” Boku stated firmly. “If the fault does not lie with the Druids, then the possibility rests with the Asura or the Hobgoblins!”

Boku did not suspect the monsters within the command room. If this inner circle turned traitor, they were truly finished. Targeting Kuja would not be worth that risk—even Moku, currently in closed-door cultivation, could become a target. Nothing was permitted to disturb their Ku right now; the weight of Wilwatikta’s liberation from the Demon race rested solely on his shoulders.

“Hmm… this would be simpler if Swa were here,” Nerphyl whispered.

“Swa is occupied with Goku. Without Swa’s guidance, the Old Battlefield front would have been breached long ago.” Boku shook his head. Despite his words, a flicker of envy toward Goku touched his heart.

Nerphyl was reliable, certainly. Through her Eyes of Queen, Boku could connect with every Druid on the front lines and map the war in real-time. But Swa was different. That first-generation Asura possessed an uncanny, almost supernatural intelligence. Even Ez admitted that when it came to synthesizing information and unearthing crucial data from a mountain of reports, no one surpassed Swa. Moku’s decision to appoint him as the High Commander of the Royal Intelligence Agency had been flawless.

“In that case, I require Nedira’s assistance,” Nerphyl concluded.

“She is on duty overseeing the construction of Progenitor City. The city’s defense systems are now operational, so she no longer needs to lead directly in the field.”

“Good,” Nerphyl said, before melting back into the shadows.

Watching Nerphyl depart, Boku exhaled a breath of relief. He was no longer worried; he trusted that Nerphyl and Nedira would uncover the truth behind this tragedy. Boku returned his focus to the tactical map. This was where his true purpose lay.

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Diru opened his eyes to find a ceiling he knew all too well: the roof of his own burrow in Bitter Maja. This meant that after he lost consciousness, Kuja had brought him back to Bitter Maja rather than Progenitor City. It took only a moment for Diru to realize why.

Their Asura squad had been decimated. Likely only himself, Kuja, and one other from his group had survived. They had almost certainly been ordered to fall back to Bitter Maja to wait for other Asura units to regroup.

“You’re awake,” a soft voice pulled Diru from his thoughts.

It was Yuna, his first wife. Truthfully, Diru felt a bit reluctant about having more than one wife, but in their culture, an Asura with only one partner was viewed as strange and selfish rather than loyal. Yuna herself would have felt burdened if she didn’t have “sisters” to accompany her in battle—whether on the field of war or in the marriage bed. Consequently, Diru had been compelled to marry thrice more after taking Yuna’s hand.

“Yuna… how long was I out?” Diru asked, his voice still raspy.

“Only two hours since Kuja brought you home,” Yuna replied, her tone free of worry.

To them, as long as an Asura was breathing, they were alive. Their wounds would heal rapidly once they consumed enough meat. That was why Yuna had brought a tray piled high with steaks before him.

“That means I was out for six hours in total. Ugh… running out of Dragon Prana is truly horrific. How did the first generation survive this sensation?” Diru muttered, quickly doing the math.

An Asura did not sleep in the conventional sense; they merely rested their minds by shifting them to the Pandava. However, when Dragon Prana reserves hit a critical low, the body forced the brain to shut down to conserve energy for survival. As a result, an Asura felt as if they were being dragged into a bottomless black void, trapped there until their energy replenished. Experiencing total darkness with a paralyzed body and deadened senses was a traumatic ordeal for Diru.

“You really were on the brink of death, weren’t you?” Yuna remarked with a small chuckle.

“Pfft… I just saw Uncle Hugo waving at me over there…” Diru joked back remembering that asura.

The two of them burst into laughter. Afterward, Diru began to devour the food Yuna had brought with ravenous intensity. The Dragon Prana in his body refilled rapidly until he felt capable of standing—perhaps even fighting again.

“Why are you here? Didn’t Nevare order the Valkyrie units to join the fray?” Diru asked, noticing Yuna looked clean and wasn’t wearing her war gear.

“Oh, that’s because of you,” Yuna answered. “Twenty-two Asuras were killed in a single day. The two survivors returned broken but far stronger than before. The Captain requested that I and my three sisters accompany you—to replenish the fallen Asura through our wombs.”

A mischievous smile danced on Yuna’s face. At that moment, the door to the room swung open, and Diru’s other three wives entered, dressed in very little.

“Huh? Wait a minute… two survivor? Shouldn’t it be three?” Diru realized something was off with his count.

“I’ll tell you later. For now, you had best get to filling our wombs, oh mighty Asura!”

Before he could protest, Diru was ambushed by his four wives and dragged back onto the bed. Fortunately, his Dragon Prana had recovered enough that his “dragon” was ready to face the siege of these four hungry Valkyries.