Oh Look, It's the Consequences of My Actions

Kyle was carried around the town for everyone to see.

He assumed that being carried around on an oni’s shoulder like a piece of meat was some sort of domination ritual. Or a public announcement that he was now Fiona’s property.

The better question was the one he decided to ask. “Where are you taking me?”

“If this was a normal oni courting, back to my cave where we’d go at each other for a few hours.” Fiona seemed to sense Kyle’s apprehension because she immediately added, “But since we’re already engaged, somewhere more peaceful.”

That was a relief. “Mind taking me to Francis?” Kyle was shifted a bit on Fiona’s shoulder, which he took as a ‘yes’. One of the benefits of being around Fiona was that she seemed more in tune with Kyle’s take on things. He didn’t have to worry about insane shenanigans coming out of nowhere with Fiona.

He just had the worry about the ones coming at him head on. “Fiona? As your fiancé –”

“Twice-over fiancé,” Fiona corrected.

“Twice-over fiancé, are there any obligations that I need to be made aware of? Like, do I have set up a ceremony during a blood moon or anything?”

“Nothing that over the top. Oni courting rituals are a lot less concerned with showy performances than humans. Normally you’d have to worry about challengers but there aren’t any other oni near here. All you have to worry about is surviving the consummation the marriage.”

“Oh, is that all?” Kyle took a moment before his head whipped around to look to Fiona. “SURVIVING?!”

Fiona chuckled. “The first night is always the roughest – or so I’ve heard. Most men survive. Though since you’re a human, I would need to control myself a bit.”

Kyle imagined something involving a praying mantis popping his head off like a children’s toy. For a moment it sounded like Fiona would’ve been the ‘easy’ option out of this. But there was nothing easy about surviving the harem if he’d just die immediately after!

----

“I’m in big trouble, Francis. These women are going to be the death of me.”

Kyle was now lying face down in the floor of one Francis Ryeburn’s home.

Francis had been mayor of the village before everything shook out. After the defeat of Prince Demerius, he was named the head of a council of elders that managed the peasants’ day to day affairs. Elder was a bit of an overstatement; he was still the only man over the age of fifty even with all of the towns unified. It was a task Kyle had been thankful they’d taken up; everything else was eating up too much of his time.

“Boo-hoo,” said Francis. “Too many women find me attractive! Next, you’ll tell me your bed is too comfortable and your food too delicious!”

In hindsight, complaints about being in a harem to an elderly pervert were always falling on deaf ears. But Francis was not so heartless as to not give him somewhere to take a break from the insanity.

It was nice to talk about something else that wasn’t what Kyle had been working on for the past month. Even if it ended up being Francis recounting minor complaints about the council meetings he’s been attending. Rants about reestablishing trade with Trunsit and assuaging the egos of the other heads of villages made for palette cleansers.

But one thing that Francis said caught his attention.

“…And then we had some people freaking out because they said they saw orcs on the horizon.”

Kyle’s head perked up from where it had been on the floor. “Orcs?” Hadn’t he run into some of them when he’d been escorting Kari to Castle Zoroman? “How many?”

“You know how people get,” Francis admitted. “That said, a lot more people’ve been claiming to see them over the past week.

Peasant Kyle was lying on his back next to Real Kyle. “They were always one of those stories I’d heard when we were a few drinks in.”

Office Kyle was hanging from a hook on a wall next to a mounted wolf’s head. “It’s an isekai. I’d put money on them coming here to kill us.”

“Why are you up there?”

“Don’t look at me, it’s his imagination!” Office Kyle pointed at Real Kyle.

The interplay between the Kyles was interrupted when the sound of screams outside. Kyle and Francis looked at each other in shock before rushing to see what was going on.

-----

Francis was nearly run over at his door by a horse galloping past. And then he ducked back inside when a giant wolf followed.

When Kyle managed to get outside, he saw two orcs riding into the center of the village. He was surprised to see neither the male riding the horse nor the woman riding the wolf were causing wanton bloodshed.

The man was covered in mismatched metal armor over his chest that had clearly been cobbled together from other pieces. Black hair flowed down his back almost like a cape. His legs were mostly covered in furs, feet in metal tipped boots.

But it was the woman on the horse who drew Kyle’s attention. Unruly short black hair flowed in the wind, with piercing blue eyes staring fear into the hearts of his fellow peasants. Unlike the male, she favored leather armor.

He was getting the strangest sense of déjà vu.

“Attention, whelps!” The man spoke aloud, waving with an arm with a bracer embedded with a perfect diamond on the outer part. “I am Togoldor. Chieftain of the Ga’vash Horde. Your tools, your crops, and your lives are now mine to command. If you submit, you will find us gentle masters. If you resist, only your gods have the words to describe what we shall do to you.”

The female orc locked eyes on Kyle’s. Kyle felt something in his shirt start to move on its own accord. The amulet with lapis lazuli around his neck, the amulet of wisdom that had been given to him began shining with a red light. One that he had not seen it give off since he first saw Prince Demerius.

“One more thing before you settle your affairs. There is one amongst you for whom their life is forfeit. I seek the one known as ‘Wheatsman’. For you to live, he must be surrendered to me.”

It was then Togolodor noticed the green light starting to glow from the diamonds on his bracers.

A great explosion of wind blew on an otherwise calm day, knocking the many residents of the village over. Even the orc woman on the wolf struggled to stay on her mount.

But Togoldor was not phased by the sudden burst at all. In fact, he considered it a divine blessing that his prey was all that was left standing.

Kyle noticed it too.

“Wheatsman,” purred Togoldor. “We meet at last.”

The female orc slapped her hand on the back of her wolf. “Brother! That’s the one! That’s the man who slew the rest of the raiding party I led!” She pulled a bow off of her back and began nocking an arrow.

“Dolona, wait!”

Kyle barely had time to dive for cover. An arrow shot past his shoulder, its head slicing it open.

He had no choice. With no weapons or backup, he’d have to fight this woman with nothing but his magic ring and whatever power he could still muster.

It was when started running towards the wolf that he remembered.

Kyle’s horse and a female orc’s wolf danced around as their riders clashed with a pitchfork and an axe. The orc’s axe bit into the pitchfork’s length, only for the rider to leave herself open to Kyle booting her off of the wolf.

Dolona was right. She was the only orc who’d survived that fight on the way to Castle Zoroman.