I Refused To Be Reincarnated-Chapter 888: An Orc in Human Skin

"Did I?" Adam tilted his head, the beginning of an understanding forming in his mind. "Or is it you lot, with your green skins, that have a problem? I felt it, you know—the unnaturalness of your 'evolved' forms. I just picked the 'natural' one."

A heavy silence strangled the war council. The warriors narrowed their eyes at Adam, glaring and clenching their fists as if his words had sliced their chests. Shamans lowered their heads, letting out exhales that made Adam think they knew more than the warriors and had resigned themselves to whatever issue they faced.

Grum'Thal tucked his fingers around his chin, his elbows planted on the armrests of his throne. He leaned forward, his red eyes igniting in the darkness of his hood.

"The natural one... that is precise terminology." His voice was heavy with reluctant acknowledgement. "Have you heard about Grash'Thul?"

Adam nodded. Orcs mentioned this entity each time a warrior died. As for who it was, he believed it was their leader; an assumption that proved wrong, as it was Grum'Thal.

"No idea who it is."

He shrugged, yet the great shaman shook his head. "Humans, orcs, trolls, dragons—everyone knows him. Some call him death, others the soul reaper. Mages named him the Netherworld Overseer; we call him Grash'Thul, the eternal abyss. What you felt was the taint of the netherworld."

Adam's eyes widened as Grum'Thal lifted his palm. "Enough. Rokhan, I assume his answer satisfies you." Upon receiving Rokhan's nod, he continued. "Then, this trial comes to an end. This is your last chance to object before I deliver my judgment."

No one spoke, but Adam's mind rumbled. That overseer again! What had he done to the orcs? Was he the profane deity that allowed them to use shamanic arts? He opened his mouth to ask, then closed it again. Though he suspected Grum'Thal had hidden motives, he also knew that he wouldn't get any answer now. Not in public. Not in the middle of his own trial...

"Kyu..." On his shoulder, Bao pawed his cheek, her small face wrinkled with worry.

"It'll be fine." He forced out a gentle smile. "At worst, we'll find a way to escape before they can carry out the sentence."

Bao rubbed her nose against his cheek, licking it despite the tremors ruffling her fur. She trusted him. Adam understood her. And she was damned right. No matter what, he'd figure something out. Even if Grum'Thal decided to ignore the college backing him. Too many people waited for him. In the cultivation realm, back in the magic realm. Shamanic arts, the Gate, and the Netherworld overseer could all go whistle. He wouldn't fall here.

Grum'Thal observed the steely glint entering Adam's eyes. For three heartbeats, silence. Then, he knocked on the skull forming his armrest, the sound echoing like the beat of a drum. "In light of the testimonies and answers provided during this trial, and since no one objects, I, Grum'Thal, great shaman of the orcs, declare..."

Adam was sure that the old bastard paused to smirk at him. At least, he believed the orc's red eyes curved.

"I declare I'm not gazing at a human who wore the skin of an orc, but at an orc born in a human body."

From the shamans to Adam, everyone gasped at the ridiculous claim. But before they could voice their thoughts, Grum'Thal rose from his throne. Brown leather robes ruffled as if the wind blew on them, and his voice rumbled like thunder. "You've proven your interest in our culture and lived as one of us for six days. This trial to determine whether you were one of us is over. The ancestral ritual shall proceed as planned. Your fate is now in your hands."

He clenched his fist, the movement deliberate as if he gripped the very concept of honor. "Will you prove yourself to our legendary warriors to join their ranks and be worthy of truths you can't fathom, or join Grash'Thul's embrace? I'm looking forward to tomorrow. Unchain him, Ulgarath. Rakhan, Gora, lead Adomash to his room and watch over him. Dismissed."

While the shamans glanced at each other in muted stupor, Ulgarath unlocked Adam's bindings with a snort.

The cut-off mana instantly waved back into his magic circuits in a feeling he would have found wonderful if his thoughts weren't blaring like a confused alarm. What about the infiltration, the ritual? The trial's goal had never been about it, but to determine if he was one of them... Why?

Pieces of an imageless puzzle fell into place. Grum'Thal could have framed him, but to what end? No, there was something more. Something the great shaman wanted everyone else to accept, even though he could force his decision. Secrets? Perhaps help? Why him, though? Mhh. The earlier explanation? Too precise for someone who only saw him cast basic spells. It was as if Grum'Thal knew much more about him than he let out.

Troublesome.

He massaged his wrists, noticing Zul'Rakhan and Zul'Gora approaching him. No matter what Grum'Thal was planning, he couldn't blindly guess it without information he wouldn't get. Escaping seemed the best solution, but these two were not his janitors, just familiar people to make him relax while the real warriors kept watch. After the ritual, during the celebrations. That would be his best chance... if he could win, that is.

"H-Hey..." Zul'Gora muttered, awkwardly scratching her gray hair. "Hum... It went better than expected, even if the end surprised us all."

He locked eyes with her, silencing his thoughts. "I know. I won't forget your testimony." His eyes narrowed on Zul'Rakhan. "Or your manipulation."

"Ah! Childish from someone who planned to infiltrate us. Are you going to throw a tantrum because we knew?" Zul'Rakhan snorted, gesturing to follow him out. Mid-movement, he subtly pointed at his ears while his red eyes darted across the other shamans.

A signal Adam understood: too many ears. Silence accompanied his steps behind Zul'Rakhan. Zul'Gora opened her mouth a couple of times, but each time she seemed about to say something, Bao's accusatory glare made her close it again.

Soon, he entered his room on the second floor. Besides three oversized beds and a dining table, he found nothing of interest. He sat on a chair, tapping a finger on the thick wood of the table. "You're right, Rakhan. I still don't like being led by the nose."

"You weren't." Rakhan sat across from him, leaning on his elbows. "What you are, though, is young. Way too young to understand politics, or the weight of secrets even I don't know about."

Adam rolled his eyes. "And yet, I figured out that much. He wants everyone to accept me for whatever reason."

"Correct. Because of something I didn't mention in my testimony, of what made him look at you in the first place." Zul'Rakhan paused, his withered face twisting in a terror he failed to suppress. "Bones," was the only word he managed.