As I was rounding the corner of a paddy field, four men stepped out from beneath the shade of a tree. They were dressed in loose trousers, sleeveless tunics, and straw sandals, but that wasn’t what made them stand out as unusual. Their brows were low, their skin tinged green, and their overhanging lower jaws made them look like the human equivalent of a garbage truck. If I’d seen them in a film or a video game, I would have assumed they were orcs, but that was absurd. There were no orcs in ancient China.
Which brought my mind around to a new theory. Was I just dreaming, slapping bits of fiction and reality together to create something comfortable for my mind to retreat to while I lay dying on a valley floor? I liked to think that my mind knew me better and would have filled my final hours with hot women, not monsters looking for a fight. But then, the brain could do strange things.
“You’re a funny-looking bastard, ain’t you?” one of the orcs said. He stood in the middle of the road and blocked my way. The others spread out to either side and circled around until they had me surrounded.
“I’ve certainly made some women smile, but not because I’m funny-looking,” I said. “And you’re the one that looks like more of a joke to me.”
I hadn’t planned to say it, but I wasn’t surprised to hear my mouth getting away from me. I’d always hated bullies, and these creatures had the look of playground thugs about them. It wasn’t their faces, though those jaws certainly gave them an aggressive look. It wasn’t the muscles bulging beneath their tunics or the crude, angular tattoos on their upper arms either. It was the way they held themselves, with their arms hanging loose and walking with a swagger that said they did all their thinking with their fists.
The lead orc’s eyes narrowed. “Where you from?”
“Nowhere you’ve heard of,” I said. I let my own arms hang loose as my fingers stretched and warmed up for action. I wouldn’t start a fight, but if one came, then I was going to make damn sure I would be the one to end it.
“You saying I’m too stupid to have heard of it?” the orc asked.
“Not at all. It’s just a long way away.”
“And you think I’m some country bumpkin who never left the valley I was born in?”
“Why would you? They say travel broadens the mind, but yours seems broad enough already.” Taunting the creature might have been a bad idea, but I’d already died once, and my patience for random attackers was growing thin.
“I’ve been out of this valley.” The orc continued from his previous thought as if I’d never even spoken. “Fought for the clans against Takarb the Lady of Pain. Marched all the way to Rotten Falls and back with a naginata in my hand. I bloodied its blade on a dozen of the Screaming Throng. Earned me these.”
He pulled back his upper lip to reveal gold hoops running through holes drilled in several of his teeth. As he leaned forward, a wash of hot, rancid breath hit me straight in the face. I took a step back and bumped into one of the other orcs.
“Well?” The lead orc bore his teeth again. “What do you think?”
“I think you should try eating less meat.” I waved a hand in front of my face. “You smell like you died a week ago, and the undertaker hasn’t turned up.”
“That’s it, human.” The orc wound back his fist. “It’s on.”
Thickly muscled green arms reached around me from behind and tried to pin my arms to my chest. If the orcs had hoped to surprise me, they’d failed badly. I’d seen this move coming, even been counting on it. I grabbed one of the arms with both hands, dropped my left hip, and bent forward, heaving as I did so. Just as the orc’s weight was sliding over my back, I jerked my hip up before flipping my opponent right over my head and into the lead orc.
As the two orcs tumbled in the dirt, the other two rushed at me from either side. A fist flew at my face, but I sidestepped just before the punch landed and let it sail past. The orc wasn’t quite stupid enough to punch his friend, but he was stupid enough to leave his arm out for a moment. I grabbed hold of the limb and twisted as I stepped out from between my opponents. The orc grunted as I dragged him around, spun in behind his back, and yanked the arm up. It wasn’t even a matter of strength, just pressure in the right place. The orc howled in pain as his shoulder dislocated with a popping noise. I pushed him aside, and he staggered away, clutching his injured arm.
The first two orcs were back on their feet, making it three to deal with.
Fighting orcs in the ancient Far East? It was my kind of reincarnation.
“I’m going to mess you up so bad,” the lead orc threatened, “your own mother won’t recognize you.”
“I’m sure your mother will still welcome me with open legs,” I replied.
The lead orc rushed at me, and I waited until the last moment to step aside with one leg extended. The orc didn’t see my leg, and he went sprawling in the dirt.
I decided it was time to stop playing games, so I jumped at the nearest orc and delivered a series of sharp jabs. The orc raised his arms and blocked every other blow, but half of them still got through, and that was enough. My opponent staggered backward, and blood ran from his nose while the flesh swelled around his right eye.
The orc
