Lewd Dungeon Master: This Orc Is Too Damn OP!

About a week went by while we laid the groundwork for the market.

We passed the time without incident, going about the same daily routines as before.

First, the Sagittarius front.

"Nothing to report on the Sagittarius front. We intercept them at the dungeon entrance and they can’t move an inch."

Gremory’s division, the Legion of Pride, was tormenting House Sagittarius with overwhelming force.

Rather than keep losing weapons to us, the dwarves started fielding even better quality gear, and the count’s house aggressively hired adventurers and mercenaries and threw stronger forces at us.

But we held. Allocen’s dungeon had been thoroughly remodeled into a battlefield built for killing and capturing, and we stripped their equipment off them.

Second, our dungeons as a whole.

"Not a single one of them has tried an uprising, somehow."

Not one demon had picked a fight with any dungeon currently belonging to our legion. Since Andromalius’s uprising, nobody had laid a finger on us.

"A shame. A real shame. It would have been nice to hold them off for three days and then go right back at them."

Maybe word had spread that our dungeon was strong and mighty, or maybe the other five legions besides mine were settling into fixed spheres of power.

I’d figured at least one of them would recklessly open a portal, but nobody opened a door at all. So I got to savor a peace that wasn’t quite peace, growing my dungeon and my legion by leaps and bounds.

Third, the Dragonian conversion project.

"Nnngghhh!!"

With the daily routine repeating itself, the system had settled to the point that Levis was laying exactly eleven eggs a day. Flauros had adjusted the intervals between eggs to roughly ten seconds, so nothing backed up and no eggs were lost.

"Filthy stubborn streak on this one. A witch after all."

"I’m not a witch!"

"Then we’ll go with dragon mama."

Thanks to the eggs Levis laid, every orc in our legion had gotten hold of a dragon’s power. That mostly amounted to horns sprouting on their heads and no great increase in strength, but the ceiling on how far they could grow had risen to ☆☆☆☆, which was undeniably encouraging.

"Run laps through the sub-dungeons! Get real combat experience on the Sagittarius front! And then you’ll become a strong, magnificent orc like me!"

Low level orcs grew in the sub-dungeons.

Orcs who had grown enough got their real fighting on the Sagittarius front.

Our numbers were a bit thin, but the legion’s troops made up a solid elite core, and our orcs had gotten strong enough that a full scale war with the Marquis’s house wouldn’t have been a problem.

And last, the fourth item.

"To celebrate the completion of Ras Market, let’s all raise a glass, raaaas!!"

"""Raaaas!!"""

The orcs who hadn’t become Dragonians yet, the minotaurs who had faithfully played the role of overseers, the Andras who worked alongside the orcs, and the human carpenters who gave them all directions and had blended in perfectly.

Over the past several days of building the market, the walls between species had gradually crumbled, and at last they had become one legion.

"Legion Commander! Didn’t we work hard?!"

"That’s right! Grant us that one favor!!"

"I think I know what it is, so I’ll announce it myself."

I handed out rewards to commend their labor. The leader of a true collective must know exactly what his subordinates want.

"A market can’t do without a festival! The harpies, the Andras, the humans, the fairies, the succubi, and the elves have arrived!"

Those who had been quietly providing support from the rear joined the ones who had built the market, drinking together and turning it into a celebration. Fried cockatrice, Robo stew, and a food spread built on the provisions we’d gotten from the Marquis’s house made it a lavish affair.

"We can’t sit around stuffy on a day like this! Everybody strip!"

"Wooooah!!"

As the festive mood ripened, the wild Ras party kicked off. Since it was outside the dungeon, no sowing would take place, so it was an orgy for the sake of pure lust with every species in the legion joining in.

"Let’s hold a contest! Whoever Rasses with the most partners of the opposite sex gets a piping hot high grade magic stone, fresh out of Lucifer!"

"""Raaaas!!"""

The men’s cheers rang out across the whole of Ras Market. Among the women, only some of the fairies and the succubi cheered.

"For anyone who wants it, I’ll turn that high grade magic stone into magic fluid! Right here, personally! High grade for first place, mid-grade for second through twentieth, and anyone who does it with ten or more partners or Rasses with partners from three or more species gets a low grade stone or fluid guaranteed!"

"""Kyaaaah!!"""

Now the entire female contingent was cheering.

The elves, who at first hung back and would only take orcs, got into it halfway through and were taking several at once, working away with mouth and tongue to earn even a low grade of magic fluid.

"Gaaah, I can’t believe I’m going at it with an elf!"

"Damn... minotaur dicks are ridiculous!"

"Ahhh, who knew doing it with a human would be this good! Two thousand years of elf life wasted!!"

"...Two thousand years old? Uwaah, l, lady, laaady! You’re going to break it!! Guhhh!"

"Ah, this is what true harmony looks like."

How joyful and happy a thing it is, everyone wanting one another and taking pleasure in one another without regard to species. Watching our legion become one through Ras across age, species, and gender, I got unexpectedly choked up.

"If the gods are watching this scene, may they look kindly upon it."

And so I was preparing for all out capitalist war with the Marquis. My suit had been pressed nicely with Flare Pantera’s flames, and I had everything in place for a money game where capital collided with capital.

Except.

The peaceful routine shattered in an instant.

"Hey, Legion Commander. Do me one favor."

[Yggdrasil:, Lv. 230, ★★★★★★.]

A high elf who called herself the divine tree had come to our dungeon.

***

"Why is your dungeon in this sorry state? Your forces are at the level of somewhere in the low thirties in rank, but the dungeon itself is only just C-rank? Tsk, this kid. Too busy expanding multi dungeons to bother with the home base."

Uncomfortable.

Getting coached on dungeon management was uncomfortable enough on its own, but what made it worse was that the one doing the coaching had nothing to do with dungeon management at all.

"Hm? What? You got a problem with this? I’m graciously pointing out your areas for improvement here."

"N, not at all."

"Then why are you looking at me like that? You don’t like me? That would be a bad idea. I turned a blind eye to the elves becoming dick slaves for your orcs, and you’re going to treat me like this?"

"I wouldn’t dream of it."

Never try to fight something you cannot stand against.

That was a rule I’d settled on long ago, back when Brug and I used to talk about combat. And the being in front of me was at a level that I, as I was now, could not even approach. Perhaps no one could.

The divine tree, Yggdrasil.

The one (or was it "she"?) who had stood as a tree in the Elven Forest had come to me in the form of a high elf. The divine tree, androgynous in appearance, was a mighty being that not even Luna, let alone me, could overcome.

’What kind of level is that.’

The only being I’d seen in the 200s in my entire life was Estu. Sure, the divine tree was about twenty below Estu, but six stars at level 200 plus was as good as a god, untouchable.

[Yggdrasil]

I’d wondered whether this was some con artist, but the system doesn’t lie. And even without the system, my own senses were telling me.

Prickle, prickle.

My skin already knew. There was no killing intent, but my instincts were overwhelmed by the divine tree’s power and grandeur. Getting angry in front of this one would be like pissing in the Pacific.

"You don’t trust me. Should I recite what you said in front of me that day? Aside from thinking I was a tree that couldn’t talk and going around hunting for a knothole to jam your dick into, shall I go on?"

"Forgive my rudeness, divine tree."

"No matter. If I meant to ruin you, I’d have done it back when you first laid hands on Lune. I have roots in this world, but I am not a member of it. I am simply a tree with a will. Don’t let it bother you. Hahaha."

...More than anything, my dick was screaming at me to show some respect in front of the divine tree.

"Countless generations have been wiped out over the years, but this is the first time they were gang raped by orcs. Heh heh, it’ll produce very interesting results."

"..."

"I can tell what you want to say just from your face. Am I not going to punish you for touching the elves? Why would I? They all love it every time a dick goes in. The ones who hated it left, and... no, that story can wait a moment."

My dick bowed its head of its own accord in front of the divine tree. Forget getting hard; it had shriveled up before the presence in front of me.

"Anyway, well met. I am the one the elves praise as the divine tree, the one they call the World Tree. Yggdrasil."

"It is an honor to meet you, World Tree."

I bowed my head, along with the head of something else.

"Tsk. Have you gone bald in a spot at your age? Fine. Grant me my favor and I’ll give you a tonic that grows hair back nicely. How’s that for a good deal?"

"What is the favor, and is the tonic’s effect certain?"

"Two questions at once. Taking the second first, the effect is certain. And if it doesn’t work... hm.... Ah, that would do. Shall I have you born again as an elf?"

"...Excuse me?"

The divine tree’s words were somewhat shocking. More shocking than a full head of hair on a bald man.

"What are you so surprised about? I am the progenitor of every elf. Elves are a species born from me. Tens of thousands of years... no, I have existed since before humanity was even born onto this land. As an elf."

"Whoa."

So the divine tree wasn’t the World Tree at all, but an ancient elf?

"Whoa nothing. I didn’t come here for a history lesson. What matters is that even if you go bald, brewing a tonic to rub on your scalp is easier and more reliable than turning you into an elf."

"I, is that so? That’s just a figure of speech... right?"

"It’s real, though. You... spend about twenty years inside an elf’s womb and you could be born again as an elf. Not that... being born as a new existence seems all that unfamiliar to you already."

"..."

Was the divine tree some kind of transcendent species? The atmosphere coming off that androgynous appearance was starting to feel almost like an immortal sage’s.

Deciding this was someone a step below the Goddess and the Demon King but in the same class, I straightened my posture.

"Twenty years is far too long. And I’m satisfied with my life as an orc. Instead, I’d like the recipe for the tonic."

"...Ssst. That could turn dangerous for no reason. Do you know what hell I went through getting rid of the elves’ body hair...."

"Excuse me?"

"Do you have any idea how much effort I put into removing the armpit hair and the pubic hair from elves? The elves you see today are a masterpiece I selected and shaped across generations. I’ve birthed no end of elves, and hairless really is the best form for them."

"May I be so bold as to tell you that I love you?"

The being who had genetically turned elves into bare hills was sitting right in front of me. I rose from my seat and prostrated myself.

"What is this strange behavior all of a sudden. Get up and sit facing me. That scorched patch on your head is painful to look at."

"...Yes."

Everyone else politely pretended not to notice, but when the divine tree said it like that, there was no arguing.

"I watched everything you have done from inside my tree. I’ve been watching since the day you came to this land and took a dungeon. Ah, that doesn’t mean I was keeping an eye on you specifically. I am simply a tree that ’watches’ the whole world."

"I see...."

Half baked bluffing wasn’t going to work. So I resolved to be honest and bold, the way I’d been with Estu.

"Then, divine tree, what brings you out of your long seclusion and to me? What is this favor?"

"Straight to the point? Fine. First, look at this."

The divine tree took something wrapped in leaves out from inside a white robe and set it on the table.

"...Do you happen to recognize this ear?"

"Ugh."

Inside the leaves lay a severed elf ear. Tooth marks ran across it, as though something had gnawed at it.

"It’s hard to tell from an ear alone. My women might be able to."

"You mean the daughter of Ryushiel, whose progenitor was Ryunari, and the daughter of Ryunasia, whose progenitor was Allomier. Ryushiel’s daughter is a child with many wounds, so please take good care of her."

"Ah, yes. ...You, you mean Lune and Luna, correct?"

"Mm. My apologies. I’m not good at remembering names until an elf dies. There are too many branches in my head, and reaching the tips takes a great deal of groping."

The divine tree smiled bitterly, then laid a hand on the table.

"But lately the number of elves returning to the soil has surged. Even elves who die without ever becoming anyone’s mother are suddenly increasing."

"...Don’t tell me."

"Some of the responsibility is yours. The ones you drove out of my forest are dying off, one after another. At the hands of other demons."

The Virgin Elves, whom I’d worried might come back as enemies someday, were reeking of death.

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