The horns of an Orc are, depending on the tribe, often a vital part of their identity. After all, they’re a race known for being specialized in combat. Their massive physique and developed fangs certainly contribute to their Orcishness, but it’s the horns—seemingly governing their fighting spirit and offensive power—that truly symbolize what an Orc is, without anyone likely to argue otherwise.
Therefore, Orcs hold their horns in high regard. Horns are growing organs, so they require constant maintenance. They’re shaped, length adjusted, and sometimes even carved with symbolic patterns, depending on the tribe. But this is something they’d never let another person do, not even a fellow Orc. Doing it themselves is a matter of Orcish pride.
Most other races don’t even notice the effort, but there are trends and fads in horn modification. Some Orcs carve splits at the tips to make them forked, others add evenly spaced nodes along the length, or sharpen them to a razor’s edge so they can easily pierce something.
“Well, when I was younger, I thought that looked cool,” is a common excuse from middle-aged Orcs. From a structural standpoint, all of those modifications are disadvantageous, but surviving countless scraps with those impractical horns intact makes it look incredibly impressive to hot-blooded younglings. Though usually, they aim for the same and end up snapping them off halfway through, leading to massive regret.
But I digress.
Arnold Boyd, a recruit (a nineteen-year-old Orc who’s still a bit of a goody-two-shoes), has no connection to such dangerous horn modifications. For one thing, he’s a dual-horned Orc with only one horn left. Due to various circumstances, the other was yanked out from the root and never grew back again. That alone makes him look pretty bad in Orcish eyes.
Even so, he’d taken good care of his remaining horn until a few months ago when it snapped. Well, it was in exchange for saving a life and getting a girlfriend, so he was mostly okay with it. But recently, it’s been growing back quite a bit, and he’s wondering what to do about it.
“Yo, Boyd, what are you staring at your hand mirror for?”
“Ah, Ruckman.”
Arnold was lost in thought while looking in his hand mirror when his colleague, Greg Ruckman—a recruit (a Dwarf), called out to him. A recruit is essentially an apprentice soldier, the lowest rank. Greg and Arnold are the same rank and joined at the same time, so he wouldn’t get mad if Arnold didn’t use honorifics, but Greg’s bear-like beard made it hard for the younger Arnold to just call him by his first name.
“A guy staring into a hand mirror with a hundred different expressions is kinda creepy, ya know?”
“Ah, ahaha… well, it’s about my horn.”
“Oh, your horn, huh?”
Arnold’s unit in the Celestial Northern Army’s Crossbow Squad has an unusually high number of Orcs—nearly 20%—for a support team. Naturally, they have strong opinions about horns and are quick to point out how special… or pathetic Arnold’s situation is.
Greg remembered that and gave him a subtle look. He wasn’t good at comforting people.
And Arnold panicked at the subtle look. It wasn’t that he was worried about the broken horn.
“N-no, it’s just… I was wondering if it’s okay to start shaping it into a cone again…”
“Ah, yeah, now that you mention it, that’s how much was missing when it broke.”
Greg made a gap of about 5 centimeters with his fingers. Arnold felt like it was a bit more, but oh well, details. He couldn’t expect others to remember exactly.
“Yeah, something like that. But it’s grown back quite a bit now, so I was thinking maybe it’s time.”
“Well, if you want, I can lend you a sharp knife.”
“N-no, I have tools for maintenance, but…”
The problem was whether it was really okay to do it.
From an aesthetic standpoint, there was no reason not to. But other than that…
Arnold’s girlfriend, Sylvia McLean (a human woman who’s almost twenty and also a bit of a goody-two-shoes), had been saved from a near-suicide attempt involving a runaway carriage by Arnold’s reckless rescue.
Currently, she cherishes the horn fragment that broke off at that time, wearing it as a necklace.
I was super happy when she seemed pleased with the gift, but ever since then, that broken horn has been used for all sorts of ridiculous bragging—thanking her for our meeting, thanking fate, and stuff like, “Hey, it’s just one horn, it’s nothing compared to Sylvia’s gorgeous skin!” or “Aw, Arnie’s still got it, huh?” That’s the problem.
Now, that broken horn is a symbol of our bond.
And I’m torn about whether it’s okay to erase it.
“Right. So, can I punch you? Full force."
"If you could maybe spare me… I’d appreciate it…”
Greg’s height is like a baby compared to Arnie’s giant frame, but with dwarf strength, he could knock Arnie out cold in one hit.
Arnie sensed the genuine murderous intent behind that friendly smile and slowly backed away.
”Hmm, well, if that’s enough for you, I guess you can leave it as is."
"Uh, yeah, well, that’s true… But it is kinda ugly, though.”
But Arnie, being an ogre, has his own sense of aesthetics and cares about what others think.
Frankly, a broken horn that’s been left to grow back just looks bad.
Walking around with that exposed makes Sylvia look like she’s the one who’s ashamed, and I feel bad for her.
“Ugh… what should I do…"
"I doubt anyone outside of ogres even notices, though."
"Bassoon, there are surprisingly a lot of ogres here…”
Caught between culture and culture, love and appearances.
I could ask Sylvia about it, but if I did, she’d probably give me that sad look and say, “You can just shave it off.”
While Arnie was agonizing over his tail-like, broken horn, the front entrance of the barracks suddenly got noisy.
”Looks like someone’s back."
"Yeah, seems like it.”
For the past few days, the commotion had been steadily increasing.
Due to some business for the centurion in charge of the squad, there’d been an unexpected three-month leave. With its end approaching in a few days, more and more people were returning.
Even though it was just a military unit he was attached to for work, most of them were single young soldiers, so the camaraderie was strong.
Some were bringing mountains of souvenirs, making each return from their first leave feel like a little event.
But something about how this commotion started felt… off.
”Hey, Void, Rackman! Come over here! And give me a cheek pinch! No, seriously, don’t go all out or I’ll lose my head, okay?"
"What’s he saying, Sergeant Jacque?"
"Just a peck on the cheek?"
"No, not that it has to be a peck or anything… Ah, just come over here!”
The two exchanged glances and followed Jacque toward the entrance, where they found a giant cow.
No, an ogre subspecies who looked like a cow—Kelly Isaac, the decurion.
And next to him—or rather, clinging to his lower half—stood a woman with a straight back and a dignified air.
”…A woman? Doesn’t look like a civilian, though."
"That’s military-issue fabric. Same as what the Anzalos squad has."
"Whoa, she’s close to Isaac Decurion?”
“Hey, isn’t it just that Isaac’s squad leader is way too big?"
"That guy blocks the entrance by himself."
"No, no, no, I saw her walking towards us from the other side, and that woman was riding on Isaac’s squad leader’s shoulders!?"
"Whoa."
"She just got out of the best situation to be jealous of an ogre."
"…”
Arnie averts his gaze slightly, as he’s been doing this quite a bit at Sylvia’s request.
Janjacque and Greg, ever perceptive, shoot him disapproving looks.
But that aside…
”Looks like she’s introducing herself to everyone in the entrance hall."
"O-oh, hey, we should go listen too."
"Wait up!! Damn it, don’t leave a short-legged guy behind!”
The three of them rush over.
“Nice to meet you all.”
As the woman in the cloak struck a Ceresta military salute, the three arrived within earshot.
Seeing everyone around them grinning sheepishly as they returned the greeting, the three hurriedly placed their fists over their left chests.
”O-oh, what’s going on?”
Janjacque asked another nearby soldier, but before he could answer, she repeated with a faint smile,
“And to those who will join us later, nice to meet you too. I’m Linne Mikagami, a regular soldier transferred from the Ceresta Western Army’s Third Infantry Regiment today. My specialty remains infantry, and I’ll be taking on guard duties.”
“Ah… well, Mikagami’s also got the Ace Knight title, technically. Plus, she’s a lycanthrope—my, uh… hometown buddy’s grandson’s, you know, old friend.”
Kelly desperately tried to explain without causing offense.
Linne removed her hair ornament with a cool expression and revealed her ears, which had been tucked away.
”I enlisted because I admire Isaac’s squad leader. Please treat me well from now on."
"O-oh, L… Mikagami."
"Just call me Linne. …That should cover everything, right, Kelly?"
"Well, um…”
Her unwavering gaze and gestures clearly showed she trusted Kelly completely, while Kelly looked utterly bewildered.
The roughly forty soldiers gathered in the entrance hall understood almost simultaneously.
”Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you, Mikagami.”
Then, Bit Williams (a 28-year-old human consumed by jealousy) stepped forward with a smirk, representing Kelly’s squad leader rank.
”And Isaac. Sorry for this after your long journey, but we’re really eager to train hard."
"Ah, uh… well, Williams—"
"Of course, you’ll lead the way, Isaac. As a Ceresta soldier."
"Calm down. Wait a second. Let’s be rational as Ceresta soldiers, shall we?"
"Yeah, yeah. No one’s lost their reason yet.”
”…………”
The bull, towering nearly twice her height, pressed down on her relentlessly.
”Kuh…!”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re really getting into the training, huh? Good spirit—just like the future Centurion."
"IYO! I’m the Assistant Deputy Centurion-in-Training!"
"You’re shining, man!”
The soldiers chimed in as they hurried toward the armory. A few of them returned almost immediately, nostalgically winding up their crossbow strings with a twang.
“Alright—”
Bit (a human 28 years old known for his reliably fake smiles) declared to Kelly with a beaming grin.
”Which is better: running away with an arrow-deflecting shield or running away empty-handed?"
"What kind of choice is that?!"
"You better decide quick—I was just at archery practice, so I already got my hands on something."
"Kuh… ugh… waaaaah!!”
Kelly bolted for the armory with all her might.
”Alright, everyone chase after her! If she grabs an arrow-deflecting shield, shoot it!"
"YEEEEAAAH!!”
The crossbow squad cheered wildly as they gave chase.
“H-hey, wait—what are you doing to Kelly?"
"Just let me be.”
Hank Bronson, the lone remaining soldier of the Anzoros Guard (the elite infantry), grabbed her shoulders firmly.
”This is a ritual."
"A ritual…?"
"Yeah. …See? The Centurion and the Anzoros Decanus aren’t here right now."
"What does that have to do with anything?!”
As they babbled on, the starting signal for the massive archery drill—targeting Kelly—was fired.
”UOOOOH!! You guys are seriously aiming at me?!"
"We’re sorry, Decanus Isaac! It pains our hearts, but this is training! Die."
"We don’t do this out of fun either! Rot in hell."
"Even if you go back to your village and pick up some hot local girl, don’t think you can just bring her here and brag about it for free, you bastard! Sorry."
"Don’t insult me with that convoluted grammar!!”
The “arrow-deflecting shield” she was supposed to grab was, for some reason, a super-heavy shield lying in the armory—one even an ogre would struggle to wield. It could deflect crossbows at close range, but Kelly’s massive frame still wouldn’t be fully covered by it.
”Ow! I got grazed! I got hit, you bastards!!”
Even so, she desperately managed to escape.
”…What kind of unit is this, anyway?”
“Welcome to the best buds squad of the Northern Legion.”
It sounded like a joke, but it was probably true.
Night.
The daytime chaos had died down, and while everyone was eating dinner in the mess hall, Lynn and Kelly had started poking at each other—how they’d met, what they liked about each other, that sort of thing.
”Consider it a blessing, partner."
"…When I started dating Sylvia, I was glad to have a Centurion and an Archon Ten-Head backing me up…"
"Haha, well, you gotta be at least as tough as Isaac to play around up there.”
From a little distance, watching Kelly and Lynn look subtly angry but also pretty happy, Arnie secretly broke out in a cold sweat while simultaneously patting his chest with relief.
Yeah. Everyone was scary.
”But…”
This meant Kelly had a girlfriend now.
Which meant he wasn’t getting brushed off when it came to relationship advice anymore.
And since Kelly was an ogre hybrid, there was a shared understanding about horn treatment.
”Alright.”
Arnie wolfed down the chunk of meat—spiced and grilled (a super-masculine dish for ogres with huge appetites)—and followed Kelly, who had already gotten up.
“Horns?"
"Just shave them off.”
Predictably, Kelly and Lynn tilted their heads at that.
”No, but… I don’t want to sever the memories of the two of you, y’know?"
"You’re such a romantic, Boyd.”
Kelly laughed heartily—HAHAAHA—while Lynn smiled and nodded.
Kelly was rough around the edges but caring, while Lynn was quiet and steady. When they were side by side like this, they almost looked like the perfect couple.
”Romance or whatever. But… well, Sylvia and I are different races… I don’t want to lose anything that could strengthen our bond, even a little.”
“I see… But you two are so lovey-dovey, you should have more confidence."
"Physical tokens are nice, but if you only focus on those, women get insecure. They start wondering if they’re not trusted enough for memories, or if your love isn’t reliable.”
“N-no way…"
"So, why not make it a step forward?"
"…A step forward?"
"Yes. Shaving off your precious horns could be a new memory for the two of you.”
”…W-well… like this?”
Crrr, crrr.
Sylvia carefully shaped her horns with Arnie’s favorite knife (though to humans, it looked like an axe) and a file.
”Ah, don’t round them off too much—that’s how you shave a kid’s horns."
"Okay… Hey, why did I suddenly feel like letting you do this?"
"W-well…”
“An ogre’s horns are precious. We entrust our pride to their shape. That’s why we don’t let just anyone touch them."
"Leaving that to someone else… well, in my colony at least, it’s also a pretty serious courtship ritual."
"…Hey, Kelly-san. Could I… maybe get to carve one too?"
"Huh? …Oh, yeah. …Jeez, you’re starting to act all spoiled.”
“My pride is that Sylvia-san came to like me. …If horns are the shape of pride, then the horn Sylvia-san carved with her own hands is the proudest horn I have right now."
"…Seriously."
"Too cheesy, maybe? Isaac the Decurion taught me that killer line."
"No… I’m happy.”
“Then I’ll take the right horn—"
"Kate!?"
"Then I’ll take the left—"
"How about instead of dicks, we both get our horns carved by Big Sis Kelly?♪"
"…H-Horn-dicks… gulp."
"Hey, wait—"
"Haha, Isaac. What a coincidence."
"W-Williams!?"
"And who’s that Mikagami foot soldier lookalike making those unsettling remarks over there?"
"No, calm down. Let’s talk. First, this kid has trouble with standard speech—"
"Yeah, yeah. …Should we ask the barracks about where ‘dick’ comes from? Maybe while we’re exercising."
"Wait! Listen to me!”
This is heavily intertwined with Isaac’s arc in Extra Edition 2. I’ll post that soon too.