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To find Jared Akka Xalud, I had to leave the manor grounds.

"Sir Slaveborn." The servant in charge of ferrying me around greeted me.

"To the War Prince's house."

I caught the slightest trembling in the man's body. Fear? Perhaps. Nervousness? Most definitely. It wouldn't do for manservants of a War Prince to not have a healthy amount of fear for him. It's just that I had a feeling that Jared Akka Xalud had different standards for what 'healthy amount of fear' was.

Taking a seat in the back of the carriage, I looked out the window, taking in the sights again. More so than just enjoying the scenery, which was beautiful as one of the best gardens I've ever seen, I tried to memorize the layouts. The routes and landscape. Just in case.

It took a little less than half an hour to arrive at Jared Akka Xalud's manor. Not the castle where he held the Ball the other day, but his living quarters. For all purposes, it was no different than ours; perhaps a bit more cared for.

Exotic vines and ivy climbed the walls, decorating it with iridescent yellow, red and green; definitely a byproduct of biological enchantments. The walls were a chalk-yellow and had flowers drawn onto them, blending in seamlessly with the actual wildlife that were grown with purpose.

Down to the detail, I could see that someone, whoever that was, had a hand in making everything have a purpose. No decotation was out of place and not a single vine was unclipped, allowed to grow freely. Everything had been part of a design since this place was built.

But true to his title of War Prince, his manor was infinitely better guarded than the ones belonging to Zenom and the adventurers. Six knights guarded the main door and I saw more of the Akka Xalud Knights patrolling the grounds in pairs, their faces hidden beneath the grotesque insectoid helms they favored so much.

The servant dropped me off in front of the main door, hitched his horse to a post and waited.

"Master, if you need me, I'll be here." The human-slave said.

My gaze lingered on his neck, the Slave-Collar, a little too long and he quickly averted his own.

Personal feelings aside, I needed Jared Akka Xalud.

Putting a damper on the raging emotions proved to be easy enough. It got easier everytime. Especially when my sword wasn't in hand. The type of Cores that Skaris and I had were more susceptible to when we were in the midst of combat, or when the threat of violence loomed near. In times like this, they stayed relatively quite. Relatively, being the deception. One never quite knew what could set them off.

Now that I was actually in the MSS world, I did wonder just how Cores affected our emotions. In college, I remember taking a sociology class and there had been a chapter about biofeedback. How we could control our emotions by controlling our body, I.E, the breathing. Did Cores affect our emotions and react to it, or was it our body signals? Did Cores have any affect on hormones, muscles and body language?

My thoughts were cut short as the knights barred my path.

"State your purpose, Sir Slaveborn."

The knight was average height, face hidden beneath the helm. My eyes strayed to his waist. A warhammer hung on his waist, as well as a round shield on his back.

"I'm here for my boon." I said easily, keeping my voice as plain as possible. The last thing I wanted to do was give someone an excuse to turn me away. "The one that was promised to me during my victory over Kariyo, the Jared Akka Xalud's champion."

I couldn't see their faces, but I could imagine their faces twisting in displeasure. None of his knights liked me. I'd openly disrespected their precious War Prince and gotten away with it. The only reason they hadn't turned me away was because of the fact that I'd won the duel.

Because I was strong and they were weaker. Of that, I was certain.

In MSS, the language is Power. And Strength is one of the most direct and simplest ways to gather it.

"I'm not aware of any boon that was promised to you." He said at last.

He was intent on keeping me out.

"When I dueled Kariyo, I asked Akka Xalud Scion–"

"Refer to him as War Prince."

"He's not a War Prince."

"Refer to the War Prince," His voice was tense, frustrated, "with the proper respect."

"I asked the general," It took all of my willpower not to snap back at him, "What would happen if I win. He promised me a boon."

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In actuality, he said 'everything'. That's what he promised.

My assessment of Jared Akka Xalud was that he had a flair for theatrics. I guess all Turinans of a certain rank can't help but have this flair. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Regardless, I was also of the mind that Jared Akka Xalud wasn't one to backtrack and infringe on what he said. When someone like him promised, 'everything', he would do what he could to go as close to the letter of the word, while betraying all the spirit of it.

That was all fabricated on the instance that I could talk to the man. But the knights were intent on barring my way.

…I really didn't want to cross swords here.

"That's not a promise." The knight glanced around, checking to make sure he had the other's support.

Damn it. I thought Jared's knights were mindless warriors, not ones with an attitude.

But just as I was about to reply, the enormous double-sided door opened up behind them.

An Orc stood behind the doors.

He was tall, closer to seven feet than he was to six. His pale skin bulged with muscles rippling with power just underneath the skin, almost like they were struggling to get free. Pale warpaint-like tattoos covered his scar-ridden body, criss-crossing each other in a horrific display of cultural pride and slave-pains. He wore nothing more than an leather pants.

And a slave collar around his neck.

Bent and rusted with age, it was almost too small for the man, making him look mishappen somehow. Like his neck was too big, a deformity almost.

And last but not least…

He had no eyes.

His eyelids sank inwards from the lack of pressure.

The orc spoke, his voice a deep rumbling growl like stones grating against one another. "War Chief Jared will see the visitor."

The knights all froze as one. The one nearest to me who'd been barring my way stepped out of my path, giving a slight bow to the orc. "Of course, Captain."

The orc spun on his heel and strode in without another word. Instinct told me that he expected me to follow. While the knights were still bowing, I skipped past them and followed the Uleum Horde orc.

Inside, I found many similarities. Garden flowers, showing vibrant colors that I didn't know existed. I'm not a botanist. At this point, I couldn't tell which flowers were enchanted and which flowers were natural.

The halls were empty, except for a few knights walking around. The only difference was that the ones inside wore donning armor that was more elaborate than their counterparts who stood guard outside, as well as the fact that they didn't bother wearing a helm.

More than one knight gave a bow to the blind orc.

There's a way to tell the different orcs apart, mainly their skin color.

Uleum Orcs have pale, pasty white skin. The Samak Horde have green skin. The Bada Horde have varying shades of blue.

I found it strange that the Uleum Orc in front of me was getting gestures of respect from the Knights. Something was weird here. And my thoughts kept circling back to Jared's undercover speech, about him being a half-orc.

The thing is, in MSS, being 'half' of a race doesn't really mean anything. You're either biologically one race or another. The only significance any of that has MIGHT affect your stats (which is still not proven). There was an interesting post on the boards way back, talking about how a human with one orc parent could have enhanced [Physical] stats than a bona-fide human.

Which didn't matter for me, since I planned to hit the 100 Stat Cap anyways.

The orc kept walking and the weight of the silence kept growing. We climbed stairs and passed by large communal spaces, until it was just the two of us walking down a long hallway draped with red, green and beige. On each side, there were glass terrariums with exotic insects. The inner boy in me wanted to stay and look, but I didn't dare keep Jared Akka Xalud waiting.

"You smell of Orc."

Those were the first words he spoke since I entered the house.

"My teacher was an orc. And I spent some time in the Samak Horde." I replied, staring at a gigantic centipede that was choking the life out of a rat in one of the terrariums. I quickly passed by it, lest it appear in any nightmares.

When he didn't reply, I asked a question of my own, "What's your relationship with Jared Akka Xalud?"

"He is the Grongash. To all of us."

Grongash. That was orcish. It meant something like…

"Heart? The heart of all?" I stumbled over the words, trying to translate it. Common, Orcish, etc. Being transmigrated into this world only gave me the understanding of Common. I still remained illiterate in most things, including Elvish and Dwarvish. Then again, most of those languages were all dying –since Beastman and Humans only spoke Common.

"You know the Mother Tongue." He growled. It was a strange experience, talking to him. He was blind, so he never bothered turning my way. Instead, I saw his ears –slightly pointed– quiver every now and then. Maybe trying to pick up on whatever I was doing.

"I told you, I spent some time in the Samak Horde."

"As a slave." He spat the word, "Not as a warrior."

I felt the insult stab somewhere in my chest, the place where I keep the fragile pride hidden. "Warrior enough to kill your second-in-command." I spat back.

And to my surprise he laughed.

"Kariyo-worm-food was no more a second-in-command than you are a True Orc Warrior." He half-turned, the sunken eyelids bristling with emotion. Baring his teeth, "You were nothing but the final blade. Everyone in this manor knows it, Samaka-Slave. Do not pride yourself on delivering the final blow."

"Me? Slave?" I took a step towards him, purposefully stomping forward to see how sensitive his hearing was. If he flinched or was surprised, it didn't show on his face. It was hard to tell what kind of emotions he had without eyes to look at. "I'm not the one with a collar here."

"...Indeed. You are not." He said then returned to walking down the corridor.

"Grongash. It means Heart of Hearts. The War Chief is our Heart of Hearts and we are his Hands in Shadow."

"Hands in Shadow?" This was new information to me.

The MSS I played had been in the past. There was bound to be new terminology.

Also…

"Why do you call him War Chief?"

We finally arrived at a door.

Guarded by three other pale orcs.

The same ones who had been carrying Jared Akka Xalud's litter. And my guide had been one of them.

"Grum. You were talking to him?" One of them said, sitting on the floor.

"Orders." The orc who'd been leading me, Grum, replied.

"The Chief waits."

"I am here." Grum went to a position, creating the exact same formation the guards out at front had, guarding the office doors. But unlike them, he reached over and opened the mahogany doors and granted me entrance.

"Come in, Slaveborn." Jared Akka Xalud's rather bland voice floated out from within.

I hesitated right at the doorstep, drowning in questions. I hated going into this blind, especially when something wasn't right.

Grum's eyes shifted and I abruptly noticed that his brows were shaken. Not just him, but the other orcs too.

"Enter." Then he grinned, canines tugging on the corners of his lips.

I entered.

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