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“Because those same young men they had to babysit during the war have found themselves rich Human women to marry and are living in such comfort and luxury that even the richest of Elves would be shocked!”

“Ah, so that’s why…”

“They won’t be satisfied until they can live a better life than the “loser men” that they had to protect. They want to marry into aristocracy, or even royalty! They want a husband who has enough money to let them live a true lifetime of opulence! …I don’t belong here… I’m pathetic…”

Incidentally, this man was as penniless as Bash in terms of liquid currency.

By the end of the war, he had already lost his hometown and had no place to return to.

With nowhere to call home and not much in the way of family, he lived in a small, ramshackle house and worked as a daytime laborer to scrape by day-by-day.

Back then, marriage was nothing but a far-off dream.

What was he fighting for? Why did he survive?

In the midst of his self-questioning, he heard rumors about Elves taking foreign men as their husbands.

Those beautiful Elves he had witnessed in battle during the war.

If one of them became his wife, he might finally be able to turn his life around.

He might finally have a place to call home. To return to.

With that hope firmly implanted in his mind, he rushed over to Siwanasi Forest to marry a beautiful Elf.

“And yet…”

But reality wasn’t that convenient.

The remaining single Elven women were all money-grubbers.

No matter how much he bragged about his achievements on the battlefield, no matter how much he touted his varied skills, no matter how many times he promised he would protect them and lay down his life for them, as soon as he revealed he was flat broke, they just laughed at his face and walked away.

“Ahhhhh…geh…uhuh…am I really such a loser?”

With memories of his past failures resurfacing in his mind, the man began to cry.

Bash just sat there in silence, not knowing how to react to the Human who had just burst into tears.

The man just cried and cried and cried.

And then between sobs, he took a sip of beer, before sobbing again.

Then suddenly, he looked up.

In his eyes, he saw the Elves that had just turned down Bash.

“Look at them, man… look at those Elves… Gosh, they’re so beautiful, aren’t they?”

“…Ah, yes.”

Bash could do nothing but agree.

The Elves he saw from a distance were indeed beautiful.

They had silky, exquisite blonde hair and fine, slender limbs.

They mannerisms were sharp, and their well-developed muscles were reassuring.

Sure, they might not have the best personalities, but if he could just have one of them for himself and hold her in his arms every single day, he would forever be satisfied.

“If only I had money… ahhh! Money….”

“Yes, money…”

Money.

For Bash, who had spent his whole life among Orcs, money was something he knew very little about.

He had no idea how to obtain money nor where to start looking for clues.

Zell, who would probably be knowledgeable about the topic was now waist deep in a cup of ale.

She was washing the back of her good friend the saltshaker while laughing at inaudible jokes.

Ah, the beauty of friendship…

“When you say “rich”, what do you mean by that? How much money do I need to be “rich”?”

“How much…? Hmm… I don’t know! But I heard that a long time ago, the first millionaire that married an Elf wooed her with a huge emerald necklace. Not to say it only had a single emerald on it – that was only the centerpiece. It’s said that that necklace was a chain made out of solid gold, with precious gemstones inlaid in every single link! So, uh, about that rich. Yeah!”

Unbeknownst to Bash, this was an old Elvish fairy tale.

A Human man had fallen in love with an Elf at first sight.

The Human asked for the Elf’s hand in marriage, but the proud Elf naturally refused.

However, the Human did not relent, and persisted in asked the Elf to marry him.

Fed up, the Elf thought of a plan.

She promised to marry him if he could fulfill a near impossible quest: to bring her a clear green emerald. Only then would she marry him.

But still not giving up, the man traveled all across the world, searching for the precious stone.

He ended up not only finding the elusive emerald itself, but also a wealth of various treasure, with which he made a necklace.

With the necklace in hand, he returned as once more asked for the Elf’s hand in marriage.

Impressed by the Human’s dedication and fortitude, she finally agreed to his proposal…

While the story might be a complete fabrication, it remained that a large portion of Elven women longed to be proposed to with an emerald necklace as a gift.

To them, it was the peak of romance.

Emerald necklaces were so popular in fact, that Elven jewelers made sure to keep them in stock at all times.

“Hmm… a shiny golden necklace…”

“Eh, well, neither of us losers should worry about that, right? Ha!”

“…So, what are you going to do now?”

“Me? Eh, no idea. Probably try my luck another day. How about you? You gonna join in on the zombie hunting tomorrow?

“Zombies?”

“You don’t know? There a whole zombie outbreak going on near this town. No idea why though. But hey, they’ll give you a little bit of money for every zombie you kill.”

“You get paid?”

“Hm? Yeah, of course we do.”

That was useful information.

Perhaps this man was planning on saving up his money through zombie hunting and using that to buy a shiny gold necklace, thought Bash.

Which would be completely off the mark. The Human was actually just trying to make a couple of quick bucks – just enough to pay for the food, rent, and his next round of drinks.

“Anyways, looks like we’re both out of luck today. Let’s have a drink. I’ve never drank with an Orc before.”

“Ah, well I’ve never drank with a Human before.”

“Oh, I almost forgot to introduce myself. I’m Breeze.”

“Bash.”

The moment they heard each other’s names, both parties tilted their heads.

Their respective names were familiar to the other party.

But the Human quickly dropped the matter, saying, “Oh well.”

He had lived on the battlefield for ages and had made it out alive. Over the years, he had heard so tales and rumors about so many distinguished warriors that he had lost count.

Probably nothing to worry about, he thought.

And perhaps the alcohol had something to do with helping him forget the fact that he was sitting right next to the deadliest orc the continent had ever known.

“To the unwanted men!”

“To the beautiful Elves!”

““Cheers!””

That day, Bash drank for the first time in a long time.

First time in a long time? I’m pretty sure he was drinking back in like, chapter 1… and that definitely wasn’t that long ago timewise.