Foundation of Smoke and Steel

Chapter 171

Daniel“I don’t like this,” Ethan said, his voice resonating in the back of Daniel’s mind and interrupting his thoughts. “This is not something the Iron Tide does.”

“Which is sort of the point,” Daniel responded, reiterating some of the arguments they had already discussed. “The Iron Tide should have attacked the Murai. They were acting earlier than they should, at least based on the timeline you shared with us months ago. Clearly, something is going on. Either it’s a butterfly effect of your death and rebirth and my appearance, or something else entirely.”

Ethan was quiet for a moment.

“What’s going on in that big brain of yours, Daniel?” he asked.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Daniel admitted. “I just know, based on what we’ve seen, that everything so far is different, which actually makes sense. I doubt the timeline could suffer that much upheaval to the major events without effect. It’s too much deviation.”

Ethan seemed to consider this. “I always thought of time like a river. Even if you create some ripples with a big rock, the water is still going to flow in one direction.”

Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “You think that time is inevitable? So even with all the variation we’ve introduced, you think everything is still going to find its natural conclusion?”

“Well,” Ethan replied dryly, “I used to think that way. But that is a pretty shitty story if everything happens the way it’s supposed to. So I’m going with I hope not. And it is odd that we’re standing in a camp of the Iron Tide preparing to parley with their leader. So maybe time is more like the butterfly effect you described. What do I know?”

Daniel tried not to let out a chuckle.

They continued walking.

Sophie and Vivian were whispering to one another just behind him. Sophie’s assistant, Elizabeth, was also present. The leaders of the Imperial Bowcasters, the Serans, and the Li family walked to either side, forming a loose but deliberate escort.

Daniel could actually feel the mana coming off Nathan in anticipation.

They were lucky it wasn’t bleeding with killing intent, or they probably would not have gotten this far.

Daniel looked over his shoulder. “Little brother,” he said quietly. “You need to calm down. We’re not here to fight.”

Nathan grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll be ready if we are.”

Daniel smiled faintly. “Fine, but try to tone down your mana. You look like you’re about to spring.”

“Damn right,” Nathan replied. “They want to invite my brother-in-law to their dirty camp. The filthy green beasts will die by my sword. Just give me the word.”

It was then that they saw who had to be the leader.

The orcs stood in a wide fan that curved inward toward a single open space. Most were much farther away than Daniel would have anticipated. It looked like the orcs were truly trying to make this parley easier.

At a distance, their group could see a heavy slab of unique hardwood, so polished it could have passed for metal. The table was raised and set forward enough to make clear that this was the heart of the gathering, despite the distance of most of the Iron Tide.

Daniel noticed details as he got closer. The grain ran dark and tight across its surface, age polished into it by use and weather. The edges were rough, deliberately left so, as if refinement would have insulted the tree it had once been.

Lucas leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Gray wood.”

Daniel glanced at him.

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“It’s ceremonial,” Lucas continued quietly. “Reserved for councils of their High Fangs. This isn’t just positioning. It’s formal.”

Daniel studied the table again, then the warriors arranged around it. No jeering. No immediate hostility. Watchful and coiled, yes. But not eager for blood, at least not immediately.

“Good,” Daniel murmured. “We didn’t come for blood.”

A shift moved through the ranks as two figures stepped forward from behind the gray wood table.

The first did not hurry. He was not the largest orc Daniel had seen since arriving in this world, but there was no question who commanded here. The others gave him space without being told. He wore layered iron over cured hide, scarred and worn but well maintained. Deep lines crossed his forearms and shoulders, not decorative cuts but the sort earned by surviving things meant to kill you. His tusks were thick, unsharpened, worn down by time rather than honed for display.

He carried himself like someone accustomed to being obeyed.

Half a step behind him stood a woman.

She was not smaller in the way humans would expect. Lean muscle sat beneath her armor, and a long blade rested at her hip rather than across her back. Her skin carried a darker green tone edged faintly with gray, and her tusks were shorter but no less formidable. Blood marked her cheek in a drying streak she had not bothered to wipe away. Her gaze did not wander. It moved with intention, tracking Daniel, then Vivian, then Gavin overhead, calculating without effort.

She stood slightly to his right.

A close subordinate. Something like a Second.

Daniel noted that instinctively.

A third orc followed at a respectful distance, robed in layered leather etched faintly with glyphs. The Pulse shimmered around him differently than the others.

A translator, maybe?

The first orc came to a stop at the far edge of the gray wood table. He did not sit. Daniel did not either. The robed orc stepped forward and began in rough Imperial Common.

“High Fang Karguk Vorlack greets Ethan Zhou of the Li House. I am the High Fang of this Wave.”

Daniel lifted a hand gently and answered in Orcish before the translator could finish.

“I greet Karguk Vorlack of the Iron Tide.”

The translator faltered mid-sentence.

The woman beside Karguk did not move, but her eyes sharpened immediately.

Karguk’s expression remained still, though something in the air tightened.

“You speak the Tide’s tongue,” he said in Orcish, his voice low and measured.

“I do,” Daniel replied, feeling the shift. He was speaking Orcish, and he could tell he was doing it now. “It seemed appropriate.”

The woman studied him openly now, her consideration more assessing than hostile. She was striking and did not seem fully orc—perhaps a half-breed of orc and human.

Geez. Was that a thing? That is crazy.

After a moment, she spoke for the first time.

“I am Shira Bloodthorn,” she said, her voice carrying the same steady weight as Karguk’s. “Second Fang to Karguk’s Wave.”

Her gaze lingered on Daniel without blinking. The expectation was heavy and unsaid, though Daniel was not entirely sure what that expectation was.

Daniel inclined his head slightly. “Then I greet you as well, Second Fang.”

A flicker passed between Karguk and Shira—something like recognition cutting across their admittedly foreign faces.

Karguk returned his attention to Daniel as a translator kept the others informed as the contents of the conversation.

“You killed the corrupted blade-wearer,” he said. “You shattered his spirit-armor. You burned the Reds.”

His eyes drifted briefly toward the valley behind Daniel, then back again. “And you did so in a way I’ve never encountered. What are you, human?”

Daniel raised an eyebrow and held his ground. “I am merely a man, and not a particularly impressive one at that.”

“Let me ask you, High Fang Karguk—when we were killing the High Orcs, you stood and watched. Can you tell me why? Are they not your kind?”

It was Shira who answered.

“We do not claim the Reds,” Shira said evenly. “They were not of the Tide.”

Her voice carried no apology.

“They are corrupted—demon-touched. They have forgotten the purity of the Pulse and the honor of the Tide. Their minds are besieged by demons of the Crimson Wastes,” Karguk continued. “The Tide would have destroyed them ourselves if you, Ethan Zhou, had not done such a thorough job with your wives and concubines, as well as your Fangborn.”

The translation took a moment. Then there was more snorting, and a giggle escaped what had to be Nathan’s throat, though he quickly tried to stifle it, followed by what sounded like someone smacking him on the back of the head.

“Ouch. Dammit, sister, that hurt. Don’t get mad at me because everyone wants to be married to brother-in-law. It’s not my fault you suck at keeping a husband.”

There was another smack and more giggling.

Daniel turned and gave Vivian a pointed look. She looked like she was about to murder someone, her hand raised to strike Nathan, who had his hands up defensively.

Daniel held her gaze.

Vivian lowered her hand and smiled at Daniel, her face red.

Daniel turned back to Karguk, who looked amused. Daniel gave him a soft smile.

“Master Karguk,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “may I ask why you came to the mainland? Everyone knows of your animosity with the Murai of the Eastern Island and your long-standing feud. Why did you come here when historically you have always attacked the Murai?”

Karguk studied him, his consideration thoughtful and intelligent despite the Tide’s reputation. This man was not someone who acted without thinking first.

“Ethan Zhou,” he said, his voice measured, “do you know of the Lady of Steel and Storm?”