Game of the World Tree

【 DON’T KIKL ME! I SURRENDER! 】

After hearing what Little Salty Cat said, the players’ eyes lit up with comprehension.

“Laborers?”

Indeed, ever since HootyBird and her research team successfully enhanced the steam gun into more powerful magic firearms capable of gaining EXP, there has been a growing trend especially amongst the long-range classes of favoring these weapons.

Unlike the traditional bow, which required dedicated practice and significant archery skills, these magic firearms were much easier for players to familiarize themselves with. Not only that but they were also more accurate, dealt higher damage, and required less effort to master.

Thus, for many ranged players who were struggling with the usage of bows for archery, this weapon was a total game-changer.

Moreover, when combined with the auxiliary archer skills originally designed for bows, these magic firearms could unleash an even greater power output.

Plus, these weapons are not limited to long-range classes, and even players like spellcasters were capable of using it by carrying them as a side weapon for self-defense.

These firearms, which were actually developed by the players themselves, quickly became the most sought-after weapon after receiving such high praise from veteran players who tested them. There was no doubt that these firearms would further skyrocket in popularity in the foreseeable future.

Although modifying a steam gun into a magic firearm wasn’t particularly difficult since even players with rudimentary knowledge about rune inscriptions were capable of doing it by following a guide on the forums, the real problem however, lay in the materials required to craft one.

Unlike other weapons, manufacturing these magic firearms required two key resources:

Mithril, a metal ore with excellent magical conductivity, and mana stones, which was a mineral that could store mana.

The former was essential for modifications while the latter were not only used for enhancement but also served as a power source, making them a consumable resource.

Therefore, without a supply of these two materials, no amount of skill or craftsmanship could produce magic firearms.

Naturally, this made them some of the most highly sought-after resources but unfortunately the Elven Forest had neither of the two.

Under normal circumstances, players usually obtained these materials by trading local specialties from the Elven Forest with the dwarves living underground.

But the supply volume from such trade was just too miniscule and extremely costly.

While high-level players could afford the cost, ordinary players were incapable of doing the same…

Nevertheless, just as players were flooding the forums, complaining about the high cost of modifying magic firearms, someone—whether by sheer luck or direct intervention from the devs—found deposits of mithril and mana stones in one of the abandoned mines in Rivendell.

Well… “luckily found” might not be the right phrase, as the player who discovered it actually put in significant effort to befriend and curry favor with Rose. They entertained the Spider Queen with countless stories for days, offered gifts, and relentlessly flattered her to the point where they actually managed to raise her favorability above 50 points…

Hence after much pleading, this person were finally rewarded with the knowledge of the deposits’ location.

It was not an easy feat, to say the least, and sheer ‘luck’ alone wasn’t capable of persuading the Spider Queen. Since for Rose and her crypt broods, these ores and minerals were not just some pretty stones to collect but their actual food, essential to sustaining their way of life.

In any case, after this person released their findings to the public, a great mining operation began in the Dark Mountains, heralding the great age of firearms within the game.

—Or at least, that was what everyone thought of back then.

However, the reality was that even with the resources finally available, everyone soon realized that someone had to actually mine these deposits in the first place.

Since the crypt spiders treated these deposits as their main food source, relying upon them for help was definitely out of the question, as it was practically akin to asking a dog to help gather meat…

That meant the players had no choice but to handle the manual labor themselves.

Alas, mining was grueling, backbreaking work…

Which led to another problem.

The players quickly realized that their faction actually lacked the manpower needed to handle such strenuous boring jobs.

Certainly, the game had a large player base, especially after the public beta, which saw its numbers surge to a staggering 160,000. Even with the veteran players spending most of their time exploring the outer maps, the central area of Elven Forest still housed around 100,000 newcomers. 𝘙ãŊＯ𝐛ÈŠ

Yet, despite this overwhelming population, the manpower shortage was worse than ever, as most players were far more interested in combat, exploration, and doing quests rather than wasting their time performing tedious labor like mining…

While some might tolerate it if they mine for just an hour or two a day, but to dedicate their entire day to it? Unless they were masochists, no sane person would willingly do that inside the game!

They were here to play after all, not to torture themselves with such backbreaking and tedious work.

And so, after some veteran players got together and brainstormed for potential solutions, they eventually came up with one:

They would offer to power level any willing newbies in higher-danger zone maps in exchange for the newcomers to do the manual labor of mining the ores and mineral deposits.

Initially, it seemed like a win-win arrangement, but once implemented in practice, the veterans soon discovered that the efficiency of these newbies was downright abysmal.

Bluntly speaking, they were just too slow at mining.

Well, it couldn’t be helped.

Elven Kingdom was just too hardcore of a game.

Even the act of mining needed to be done just like in reality, requiring actual real-life mining skills and experience.

Not to mention, since their avatars were technically elves, their body composition naturally leaned more towards the agile and slender type. Although some players modified their avatars to be more muscular to fit their tank build, the vast majority simply didn’t have the physique suited for mining…

So, the moment Little Salty Cat clarified what she meant by the word ‘Laborers,’ the other players finally understood what she was getting at.

“Oh, right! We can actually bring these three back and make them mine for us!”

“Hahaha, Guildmaster, you’re really a genius! Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Wait, Boss Cat, are you truly just a 15-year-old girl in real life?”

“How about we don’t stop at these three and also capture some of those Orcs after we attack their tribe?”

“Now that you mention it, these Orcs have better physique than us. They are indeed very suitable as laborers!”

“Plus, they’re easy to feed too! We have so much food in abundance that we could probably sustain it even if we caught a lot of them!”

“Hmm…We could even raise a whole workforce solely composed of Orc laborers! Better yet, we’ll turn it into a huge manpower industry! Just imagine, guys—if we put hundreds of Orcs to work in the mines as laborers, the profits we’d get from exporting ores would be astronomical!”

“Pfft, you just wanna export ores? Man, you’re thinking way too small! With the war looming on the horizon, we could probably sell all the Orcs we capture to those Dark Dwarves slavers in the underground!”

“Yeah, we could do that too…though we better keep the ones with low faith and sell off those with high beliefs!”

“Excellent! (666)” ¹

“Genius! You’re all geniuses!”

“Muwahaha!”

“Muwahaha!”

These players were all members of Moe Moe Committee. As such, many of them preferred to focus more on life-oriented matters rather than combat. Once their interests were sparked, these individuals could effortlessly come up with all kinds of ingenious and out-of-this-world ideas.

Within moments, they had already begun discussing how to leverage the funds they had accumulated from Moe Moe’s prior real estate investments to expand the ore and mineral trade business, and secure a monopoly over the proposed Orc manpower industry.

Numerous ideas flew rapidly out of their mouths, from optimizing labor distribution to setting up supply chains, as these players eagerly envisioned turning their latest scheme into a thriving enterprise.

Looking at the overly excited members of her guild, Little Salty Cat didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But before their conversation further derail into grandiose plans of world domination, she quickly interjected and reminded them:

“Wait! Hold on, guys. Don’t forget, we can only bring back those Orcs with low faith. Otherwise, it’ll pose a huge danger to us if we forcefully capture too many of them, especially since our group isn’t that large.”

“Got it, understood!”

The surrounding players nodded at her eagerly.

With their imaginations reignited with all sorts of ideas, these players were now looking forward to the night raid even more.

This time, it wasn’t just about gaining experience and contribution points as they had now realized this entire operation had the potential to lay the foundation for a lucrative business opportunity.

༺⟐༻

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Inside the Central Tent of the Tribe

Whilst basking under the flickering torchlight, Priest Shalu sat cross-legged with a silly grin upon his face as he eagerly counted his gold coins.

With a contented sigh, he took a swig of the wheat ale he had just purchased from the Sauron Trade Group.

“Hehehe…Once the others return, I’ll sell off those three elves and demand my share of the golden dragon from Andris. What I’ll get from this should be enough to bribe the officials and secure a safe position for our tribe when the war finally breaks out.”

He murmured to himself, eyes filled with anticipation.

To be honest, Shalu had never considered himself particularly competent in his job being the tribe’s head priest.

He had merely been an ordinary apprentice priest beforehand who got in through his connections, as his faith had always been shallow at best.

But personal success aside, he also knew being in his position wasn’t just about individual effort and it also depended on ones ability to see through the shifting tides of time.

Three years ago, the sole elderly priest in his tribe passed away and ascended into their Patron Deity’s divine kingdom.

In accordance with their race’s tradition, every tribe was required to have at least one priest to serve as a bridge between the tribe and the royal Orc court, ensuring their connection to the greater Orc hierarchy and securing their place within the Desert’s power structure.

However, the sad reality of their tribe was that it was just a small and remote one, with no better candidates amongst their people suited to become the head priest.

Hence, in the end, the members of his tribe had no choice but to make do with him, as he was the only one who barely qualified for the position, having only reached the level of a priest apprentice.

Shalu thought that was the end of it.

But last winter, everything had suddenly changed.

Imsh, the Lionheart King, fell in battle, plunging the royal court into chaos. His death sent shockwaves throughout the entire desert, triggering a cascading effect that forced all the tribes into a period of upheaval, wherein alliances shifted, power struggles erupted, and the entire hierarchy of the region was thrown into complete disarray.

Fortunately, the Church of the Hunt eventually intervened after receiving an oracle from their Divine Father.

In his decree, the God of Winter and Hunt ordered all the Orcs living within the Desert of Death to prepare for war. His directive also included the rapid promotion of many tribal priests, so even someone as unqualified as Shalu found himself selected for divine favor, earning him the right to travel to the royal court and receive their god’s blessings.

Honestly speaking, he had wanted to refuse at that time.

After all, he himself knew his own situation best. Years of dealing with human smugglers had tainted his faith with greed for money, leaving his belief for their God shallow at best. @@novelbin@@

As such, he’d be totally exposed if he actually went to the royal court to receive their God’s blessings!

But the church’s emissary made it clear:

Every tribe needed at least one priest to receive the divine blessing. The church had already made its decision and his tribe was just too small to send anyone else besides him.

So he was left with no other choice but to go.

However what happened next left Shalu utterly stunned.

Despite his faith being barely above the level of a shallow believer, he still received the divine favor and had gotten promoted to a Silver-rank Priest!

…Of course, with his faith being that low in the first place, he naturally became the weakest Silver-rank Priest among his peers.

The other priest who had traveled with him from different tribes were all far stronger. Some had even got promoted directly to high-ranking Silver Priests.

But Shalu didn’t mind.

To him, attaining this position was nothing short of a miracle.

At first, he was thrilled, basking in the unexpected prestige. But as the excitement faded, a creeping sense of unease began to pervade his thoughts.

The more he reflected upon it, the more he realized how absurd it was. How could someone like him—whose faith was shallow at best—receive such divine favor?

Was it truly a blessing?

Or was there something else at play here?

Being someone who often dealt with humans and prided himself on his worldly knowledge, Shalu knew there a deeper meaning behind the oracle of their God.

This kind of sudden, large-scale, forceful promotion of numerous priests was something he had never heard about aside from tales sung by those human bards.

Based upon these tales, this kind of unprecedented mass promotion only happened during a complete fallout between two opposing gods, leading to a major war of faith wherein entire populations were dragged into war.

And like in most of these tales, those who were weak and at the bottom of the hierarchy were usually relegated to nothing more than the mundane and most perilous of jobs:

—A cannon fodder.

…That’s right.

He finally realized it after observing the undercurrents stirring around the Desert and the actions taken by those in power…

War was looming on the horizon, and now that he had become a Silver-rank Priest, chances were that he would be required to lead his tribe into battle and step onto the battlefield himself.

Too bad, he had no intention of becoming a cannon fodder.

After thinking it over, he came up with only one solution:

Bribery.

If he could somehow alter his tribe’s position within the army by bribing the officials and secure a relatively safe place for himself in the rear ranks, his chances of survival would be much higher…

“I heard those evil elves are not only fearless in battle but also eat raw flesh and devour their captives, skewering them like a barbecued meat…Brrr, they’re worse than demons. I don’t want to fight monsters like that.”

Whilst shaking his head, Shalu carefully counted his beloved gold coins once more before tucking them back into his hidden stash. He then covered them with a rag and wiped away any traces of disturbance.

After picking up a goblet made from a skull, he drained the last of his wheat ale in one gulp.

Smacking his lips in satisfaction, Shalu nodded contentedly, tossed the bone cup aside, and lay down on his fur-covered bed, closing his eyes for a brief nap while waiting for Andris and his men to return…

༺⟐༻

Shalu didn’t know how much time had passed when he groggily woken up.

He took a glance outside and realized that night had already fallen.

Yet Andris and the others were still nowhere to be seen.

His brows furrowed slightly.

Rising to his feet, he paced back and forth inside his tent, while a growing sense of unease began creeping in within him.

“Why are they taking so long to return?”

He muttered in frustration.

Andris and his team had been gone for half a day, yet there hadn’t been a single message from him.

Not only that, but the rest of his tribe members who had accompanied him on the hunt still hadn’t returned either.

The initial excitement Shalu had felt over seeing the golden dragon earlier had slowly began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of apprehension.

He had lived in this region for decades and he was certain that there was no real danger nearby. If anything, the only ones who should be at risk were those human travelers who accidentally wandered here into the desert and encountered them, the orcs.

But Andris’s hunting party had been gone for far too long…

“Don’t tell me that Andris had somehow betrayed me and took the golden dragon for himself?”

Shalu muttered under his breath.

It wasn’t an impossible scenario.

After all, capturing that golden dragon was worth a fortune.

Moreover, the two of them hadn’t formally signed a binding contract and their agreement was merely based on a verbal promise.

And while he had sent out more subordinates than the number of mercenaries, Andris was still a Silver-rank expert.

If he had truly set his sights on the golden dragon, eliminating Shalu’s men would have been a trivial task for him. With no witnesses left alive, he could simply claim the prize for himself and disappear without a trace.

Shalu had not the slightest belief in the integrity of these greedy humans.

Betrayal was second nature to them.

The more he thought about it, the more he firmly believed that the other party had already screwed him over.

“Shameless bastard!”

Shalu banged his fist on the table, shaking the tent as his frustration boiled over.

However, to his shock, the tent continued to tremble even after his hand had withdrawn. Then, a sudden commotion erupted outside. The sounds were chaotic, a mix of shouting, screams, and what seemed to be explosions.

“W-What’s going on? Is the tribe under attack?”

Shalu’s eyes widened in shock, his expression turning grim.

At that moment, the flaps of his tent suddenly burst open, and a wounded orc stumbled inside, panting heavily.

“Sir Shalu, it’s bad! The elves are attacking! The evil elves are attacking us!”

The evil elves…were attacking the tribe?

Shalu froze, thinking he had somehow misheard it.

But when he saw the sheer terror upon the orc’s face, his immediately heart sank.

His mind immediately flashed to Andris and their missing dragon hunting team.

“N-No… it can’t be.”

He swallowed hard, hastily grabbing his wolf-fang mace-turned-staff and striding toward the tent’s entrance.

But just as he was about to step outside, a thought struck him.

Turning back, Shalu hurriedly dismissed the Orc who informed him of the attack, then rushed to his hidden stash, stuffing his gold coins into his clothes before finally making his way outside.

The moment Shalu stepped out of his tent, he was left utterly stunned by the scene before him.

The night had deepened, yet his tribe was ablaze with light.

Alas, it wasn’t due to the glow of lanterns or torches but was the result of scorching flames engulfing their entire settlement.

The surrounding tents and thatched huts were ignited by fireballs, burning fiercely. These structures had already dried out from prolonged exposure to the hot, humid autumn air, so it was no surprise that they easily caught fire like kindling.

The roaring blaze spread rapidly, turning the sky a fiery shade of red.

Panic and chaos consumed their entire village.

Meanwhile, elves, mounted on all manner of magical beasts, charged into the settlement, their fierce battle cries piercing through the roaring flames. They struck with precision and agility, cutting through the chaos like sharpened blade.

The warriors of his tribe, though caught off guard, roared in defiance as they scrambled to defend their home, weapons clashing violently against the invading force.

No, in Shalu’s opinion, such clash couldn’t even be called a battle anymore…

It was more like a one-sided massacre.

These elves raised those strange metallic tubes in their hands, before spewing tongues of fire at anyone that moved.

One after another, his subordinates collapsed, their agonized screams echoing through the night.

Amid the chaos, Shalu could even hear these elves arguing:

“Dammit! Don’t kill them all!”

“Tch, you’re such a killjoy, you know? There are thousands of orcs here!”

Shalu: “…”

“E-Elves…They’re really those evil elves from the rumors!”

His voice trembled as he took in their gleaming armor, which was just as extravagant like the rumors had described them.

He couldn’t tell how many of these evil elves had invaded their settlement—but everywhere he looked, an elf was battling against an orc warrior.

They have surrounded them on all sides.

The air was thick with the acrid stench of burning straw huts and the overwhelming scent of blood.

There was no doubt it!

This was a premeditated ambush.

And a highly successful one at that…

Staring at the chaos engulfing his tribe, Shalu’s mind went blank.

For a moment, he hesitated—should he rally his fellow tribesmen to fight back?

Or should he just slip away unnoticed?

Yet before he could even decide on what to do, the elves had already noticed him.

There was no avoiding it, Silver-rankers like him stood out like beacons in the dark, making them easy targets for anyone who had the appraisal skill.

The moment they laid eyes on him, Shalu immediately noticed their eyes gleaming with excitement. They had likely already realized that he was a high-valued target since he was not only the highest-ranking figure in the tribe but also a Silver-ranked priest as well.

A surge of raw terror gripped Sharu. His face turned deathly pale when a wave of them surged towards him, weapons raised and grins plastered across their faces.

Without thinking, he raised his wolf-fang staff over his head and shouted at the top of his lungs:

“D-Don’t kill me! I surrender!”

The moment these words left his mouth, Shalu immediately regretted them.

Because he suddenly remembered what those orcs who had successfully escaped from the Elven Forest had said—

Surrendering to these evil elves was futile, as they had never spared anyone they deemed as enemies.

Instead of giving up, he should have just turned and run, or at least rallied his fellow tribesmen to fight.

But in the mere seconds it took him to speak, his chance was already gone.

Several elves had already surrounded him.

He was finished!

Despair filled Shalu’s heart.

Yet, to his surprise—and slight relief—the elves didn’t strike him down right away.

T-They… they didn’t kill me?

Shalu was so shaken that he let out an involuntary hiccup.

“Drop your weapon! Hands on your head and squat down!”

The elves barked their orders, swords pointed at him.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Shalu flung his staff into the ground, its impact kicking up dust.

Clang!

Along with it, the gold coins hidden within his clothes accidentally spilled out, scattering everywhere in a shimmering cascade.

Elves: “…”

¹ This part was just written as “666!” in the raws but its a chinese net slang (liùliùliù) which means either ‘Cool, Awesome or Excellent’ (which is a very colloquial word, by the way).

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