Working in Stormwind: A Warcraft Isekai

Even in the pouring rain, the tiny demon in the distance, no bigger than a kitten, was burning with demonic fire.

”This is the power of our great pact! This is our magic—the terrible power that exists only between those bound by a contract! Master, as long as I’m alive... you’re not dying before me!”

The Blood Pact Seal. So this was what it did?

He could use magic like that, and he hadn’t even mentioned it before?

The orc stared at the imp. From this distance, Saeno was no bigger than a bug. The orc, by comparison, was a giant. Wouldn’t one step crush him flat?

The imp squealed out a demonic incantation, sparks bursting from his hands. The orc charged and drew back a fist, but before he could reach the imp, flames erupted all over his body.

Immolate?

This imp could cast Immolate?

”I can’t judge this world by how things worked in the game...” Jess reminded himself as he rushed forward and grabbed the Stromgarde sword the orc had just discarded. The blade was still stained with orc blood.

The orc didn’t panic when the flames engulfed him. His face stayed cold. He shook both arms, and the fire blew out as though swept away by a fierce wind.

Jess seized the opening and drove his sword into the orc’s side.

He hadn’t expected the orc to catch the blade almost as fast as lightning. Gripping it with his finger bones, the orc actually pulled the sword farther into his own body.

The sheer madness of it stunned Jess for a moment.

The orc turned a vicious glare on him. Fresh red blood seeped from his palm.

His skin was green, but his blood was red. It wasn’t demon blood.

The orc muttered something contemptuous and gave a cold laugh. To Jess’s surprise, he knew what the orc meant—or at least part of it.

One word in that sentence was Orcish he recognized.

Little thing.

Right. Orcish!

He knew a little Orcish. Somehow, in all the confusion of the fight, he’d completely forgotten.

What could he say? What could possibly make this orc stop?

The shaman held the sword fast, preventing Jess from pulling away. Jess didn’t want to release it this time. If he lost this weapon too, he’d have no way to attack at all.

The orc smashed his bracer against the blade. The sword rang and shook violently. It didn’t snap, but it bent, and the shock almost tore it from Jess’s hands.

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With a shout, he wrenched the sword free and turned around. The orc in front of him was beginning to blur and double.

After casting Fear so many times, Jess could barely keep his mind clear. But the orc wasn’t following. Blood streamed from his side and calf, and repeatedly calling on the elements had plainly exhausted him too.

”I’ll kill you, you bastard!” the imp shrieked, flames blazing in both hands.

The orc turned sharply. Jess tried to rush forward to draw his attention, but his foot slipped out from under him before he could take a proper step.

The imp hurled a fireball that struck the orc’s neck—a neck much thicker than Jess’s waist. The orc merely grunted, slapped the flames from his hair, and kept staring at the imp.

That made Saeno lose some of his nerve.

”Uh... keep attacking!”

He gathered fire magic again.

A sudden whirlwind burst from the orc’s hand. The falling rain made the rushing air visible as it slammed into Saeno like a shock wave.

”Ow!” the imp cried, collapsing onto the ground.

After using the wind spell, the orc coughed several times and dropped to one knee, clutching his injured side. He glared hatefully at Jess.

Jess gave him an equally vicious look.

Then the orc suddenly drew a crude stone knife from near his feet. The marks left by the tool used to carve it were still plainly visible.

Grinding his teeth, he straightened and limped toward Jess, coughing as he came.

So now they really were going to fight to the death.

Jess backed up a few steps. He might be able to escape. The orc didn’t look capable of running anymore either.

But what about Gred?

He glanced sideways. The dwarf was still lying there, motionless.

Damn it.

His mind felt like thick paste being stirred with a spoon. He forced it to turn over a few times, and suddenly an idea came to him.

”Frostwolf.”

He shouted the word in Orcish. The names of the clans appeared in plenty of Orcish dictionaries.

At the sound of his native language, the orc frowned in confusion.

”Frostwolf,” Jess repeated.

The knife slowly lowered. The orc muttered a few words.

Jess didn’t understand a single one, but he knew the idea had worked.

He’d chosen Frostwolf because, as far as he remembered, among the orc clans that had crossed the Dark Portal, only the Frostwolves still followed the shamanic path. The shamans of the other clans had all joined Gul’dan’s shadowy ranks.

Jess pointed at his chest and managed a few words in Orcish.

”Know. Frostwolf.”

Some of the ferocity left the orc’s expression. He lowered his head to think, then said something else in Orcish. Jess still couldn’t understand.

”Know. Frostwolf. Alive,” Jess tried again, throwing together the few words he knew.

At last, the orc’s expression changed.

After a long silence, he asked in Common, ”Where?”

”You speak Common?” Jess asked in surprise.

”Common,” the orc replied. ”Know. Very little.”

A little was better than nothing.

”Alterac. Frostwolf,” Jess said quickly.

”Alterac.” The orc nodded. ”Know Alterac. North.”

He pointed north. ”Wrong?”

”No, that’s right. Alterac is north,” Jess said.

The orc turned toward the mountains in the north. His face suddenly hardened again. He shook his head.

”Human. Liar. No trust.”

He’d guessed that Jess might only be trying to send him away.

Jess needed real proof. He tried sounding out a name in English.

”Drek’Thar.”

Drek’Thar was the leader guiding the Frostwolf clan through life in the snowy mountains of Alterac at this time. If this orc belonged to the Frostwolves, he ought to know the name.

Maybe saying it would make him trust Jess.

But after hearing ”Drek’Thar,” the orc merely repeated the sound stiffly. He was imitating the English pronunciation, looking thoroughly lost. He didn’t seem to understand that it was a name at all.

Maybe Drek’Thar sounded completely different in Orcish. That would explain why the orc hadn’t recognized it.

At least he no longer seemed determined to fight to the death.

Jess knew he’d found something important. This might be a Frostwolf who’d lost his people. Even if he wasn’t a Frostwolf, he could be a wanderer hoping to find other shamans who had returned to the old ways.

Another name. He needed another name, quickly.

Who knew how long the orc’s patience would last?