Chapter 2106: Lord Saimbi

Garan was guarding outside while Virion was out and about when this interrogation was ongoing. However, when the last point was revealed, it so happened that Virion was nearby.

When he heard Plai mention Warrior City and his uncle’s name, the expression on his face was indescribable.

Garan helpfully told him that he looked constipated.

"Damn," Virion muttered under his breath. "No wonder the fighting style of those level 30s felt familiar."

"They used Warrior City techniques?" Garan asked, looking at him as if he were an idiot. If he just recognized this now, then wasn’t it just embarrassing?

"It’s not exactly the same," Virion snapped. "Just similar."

Many good armies naturally had their own styles or sets of techniques that were propagated in the barracks. Most special techniques might go through blood or apprenticeships, but there would also be certain styles taught in the barracks.

At least for the territories that go past the initial village levels, they had mostly developed fitting techniques through decades of existence. Further, many guards would pass on this knowledge to their own children, propagating it further.

It was a lot like evolution. People would keep the attacks that worked well and gradually forget those that were obsolete, eventually forming styles. And for some highly isolated territories, some techniques could develop more uniquely than others.

Obviously, a territory that had once thrived on war, like Warrior City, was no exception.

There were several, and it depended on a person’s style, talent, and physique, but they were finite. As the heir, Virion was familiar with all the styles found in Warrior City.

In his youth, he had sparred with everyone in his generation, so he was especially familiar with various techniques. This was the case for most young men, in fact.

In Warrior City, which had a unique mix of races in its population, the uniqueness of the styles was even more pronounced. After all, they had to consider the strengths of orcs and half-orcs, as well as how to counter them.

Anyway, during the earlier battles, he thought many attacks felt familiar, but he hadn’t had the time to ponder on it until Althea mentioned their findings.

There had been plenty of changes, but the origin was undeniable.

"My Uncle, huh..." he couldn’t help but say, thinking back about the man he used to treat as a respected elder.

After finding out about this, he wasn’t too surprised. His uncle was not an elementalist, and his blood was too diluted to inherit any of the orc skills. Uncle only had that brain of his, but he was never satisfied with this fact.

In this world, especially in extra ’masculine’ territories like Warrior City, pure strength was prioritized.

In such a society, what was the use of a mind? Vairoz had always been deep in his insecurities, twisting his mind since young. It was just that no one had noticed until it was too late.

Fortunately, Valhalla and Virion—unlike some other unfortunate and very-dead relatives—managed to survive his schemes. However, even after death, he was still causing trouble—the kind that could eventually cause trouble to the entire world—which was very annoying.

"How long have they been doing this?"

"Even Plai isn’t sure. He just knows that they have been in Quo for years, but they already had established systems and pre-prepared studies in place at the time."

Virion thought for a moment and shared what he knew. "Uncle was the one in-charge of external relations and diplomacy, all the way back since I was a kid," he said. "So I can’t tell how long ago it was, but it certainly wasn’t recent."

"Fortunately, he’s dead." He beheaded the man himself. Of course, Virion would still feel a bit sad. They were family, after all, which made the pain of betrayal all the more painful.

"Was it only him that’s involved?" Althea asked, making everyone quiet down again.

Warrior City and Vairoz were involved; who was to say others were not?

...

After suffering through various pains, Plai finally revealed the location of the Lord. He was actually just inside his abode, but it was well-guarded by both guards and the territory’s rules.

Virion actually had a lot of clearances here, but when he skimmed through the area, he didn’t find Saimbi.

He wasn’t in his bedroom or any of the conventional rooms inside his house.

Unexpectedly, the Lord himself was inside a dungeon inside his very own palace, and it was still the hidden dungeons that were not within Virion’s knowledge. Ironically, the entrance was just below the living area.

As they say, hiding the target in plain sight was still the way to go. It was definitely a treacherous human who thought of this.

Every one of the Lord’s appendages—including his damned tail—was tied by chains. His maine looked like it had been pulled out manually from his head, and his snot and mouth had layers of dried blood.

He was kept alive just because the token was still attached to him. Otherwise, he’d have long been buried underground.

He seemed lifeless, but there were still signs of life. His dull eyes, when he saw Virion, lit up with a bit of hope.

Virion made him drink a superior health potion while Garan handled the chains. Althea, on the other hand, studied the dungeon itself.

"Virion..." he gasped, smiling (though it looked like a grimace), as he finally saw someone familiar—at least one who was not hostile.

It was sad to say that everyone familiar he had interacted with in his current state all wished he were dead. To think he treated them all as companions and allies...

"I have failed Lord Valhalla..." he said, still not moving his arms despite them being freed.

Saimbi could be said to be Valhalla’s apprentice. He was practically adopted by Valhalla decades ago, trained him along with others, and taught him the wisdom of rule.

Valhalla had seen the potential for leadership in him, which made Saimbi all the more guilty for failing him.

"It’s not too late," Virion said with a sigh, patting the half-orc’s slumped shoulder. "Just help with the clean up."