Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World-Chapter 748:

TL: Rui88

Arvis came from a noble family in Gabella. He entered the Scholars’ Tower in the imperial capital as a young man and, with his talent and knowledge, rose through the ranks, eventually becoming second only to his senior, Aldridge, in the Scholars’ Tower. He also became an extremely important advisor in the Gabella court.

To be sold by an unscrupulous caravan into an orc tribe as a slave was undoubtedly a great humiliation for Arvis. To make matters worse, he had already broken with the ruler of Gabella and had no way of having someone from Gabella ransom him. Moreover, if Gabella knew he was here, the possibility of them sending assassins was greater than sending envoys.

Arvis took a short while to slowly savor the sense of humiliation boiling in his chest. For a man of his age and experience, such intense emotional fluctuations were indeed rare.

“Very well! Respected Shaman Otasi, I accept your terms. I am willing to serve Grand Chieftain Abal for three years in exchange for my freedom. However, I require a certain degree of freedom!”

“Of course, respected scholar.” Otasi seemed somewhat surprised, but his expression quickly turned to joy. A member of the Scholars’ Tower with a great reputation and real talent was truly a windfall for the King’s Tent.

Arvis demanded, “And my guard, Marek, must also have the same freedom as I do.”

“Of course! That is reasonable!” Otasi nodded.

And so, Arvis remained among the orcs, appointed by Shaman Otasi as his advisor.

Clearly, Otasi did not let Arvis stay by his side just to feed him for free. Arvis was soon given a task—to compile the legal codes of the Gabella Empire.

“We are preparing to create a legal code suitable for orcs by referencing the codes of various countries on the continent.” Arvis was shocked to learn this from Otasi.

These prairie barbarians, who until recently had no written language and decided everything by the size of their fists, were actually going to create their own laws.

And soon, Arvis discovered that his previous belief that the orcs had no written language was wrong. Otasi showed him the orcs’ script.

Although it was still simple and rudimentary, in Arvis’s view, their writing system already possessed a solid framework. Given time, it could certainly develop to be as complete as human writing.

Not only that, but one shocking thing followed another. Over time, Arvis discovered that the orcs were actually emulating humans in building a bureaucratic system, with a minister of finance, a minister of civil affairs, a minister of foreign affairs, and a series of other bureaucrats in charge of specific affairs, along with their various subordinates.

In fact, he had already heard of such things from Marshal MacDonald, but he still found it incredible after experiencing it firsthand.

Arvis felt a great sense of danger. The orcs of the past were but a heap of loose sand. Even if they were strong in battle and rode like the wind, as long as there was no system to unite them, the orcs could never pose too great a threat to the human world.

But now they had one, an entity that could truly unite the orcs—the King’s Tent.

Besides surprise, Arvis also felt discomfort. He discovered that he was not the only human here serving the Grand Chieftain. There were a large number of other humans in the King’s Tent’s bureaucratic system.

“We welcome all who aspire to realize their own value. Here, they can always find a suitable position.” Otasi said to Arvis with no small amount of pride, “Fallen nobles, second sons with no inheritance, frustrated officials, even desperate criminals. In your eyes, they may be society’s rejects, but to us, they are just not placed in the right place. Once they are put in the right position, these people can unleash enormous energy.”

The old shaman’s words put Arvis on high alert. This was how the orcs continuously drew nourishment from the human world and grew stronger.

And so, Arvis was bound to the orc tribe. Marek was also released and returned to Arvis’s side, continuing to serve as his guard.

Arvis and Marek enjoyed a certain degree of freedom. They could walk among the tents, talk to anyone, learn anything, and teach anything, as naturally as if they were members of this group of orcs. Arvis even wore a shamanic ornament given to him by Otasi. This ornament held great deterrent power for ordinary orcs; every orc who saw it would cast a respectful gaze at Arvis.

However, whenever Arvis tried to leave the tribe, or even attempted to walk a little further away, orcs on horseback would immediately chase after him and “persuade” him to return.

Clearly, Otasi had people watching Arvis. Only then would he remember his status as a “slave,” and that long-forgotten sense of humiliation would once again echo in his heart.

Finally, on a foggy morning, Arvis, along with his attendant Marek, disappeared into the thick morning mist. Half a year had passed since their capture.

In fact, the two had been looking for an opportunity, a chance to escape from the orc tribe safely. This was not a simple matter. No matter how exaggeratedly good Arvis and Marek’s riding skills were, once they left on horseback, they could not escape the orcs’ pursuit, not even at night. Unlike many humans who could not see clearly at night, the orcs’ vision was ridiculously good even in the dark.

Unless there was some kind of scene that could block the pursuers’ line of sight, a dense fog happened to be able to achieve this.

On the night before this fog descended, Arvis, who had some experience in meteorology, had sensed its arrival. The knowledge in the head of a top scholar from the Scholars’ Tower finally came in handy. Arvis quietly notified Marek to get ready.

Heaven did not disappoint them. In the early morning before the sun had risen, the fog that Arvis had hoped for arrived as scheduled, blanketing the prairie where the tribe was located. Even those with the best eyesight could not see far.

In Arvis’s view, this sudden dense fog was perfectly tailored for his and Marek’s current situation. Having been awake all night, they immediately took action, mounting their prepared horses and charging into the fog without looking back.

No one pursued them. Perhaps no one noticed the two escaping, or perhaps the pursuers lost their target in the fog.

And the two of them, under the guidance of Marek’s astonishing sense of direction, frantically whipped their horses, urging their mounts to gallop westward.