Chapter 367

"Bravo!"

"Hah! The orcs ran! We've won!"

"We've won! We repelled the orcs! Bravo!"

Instantly, cheers erupted throughout the camp.

Of course, these cheers did not come from Gervas's men.

Gervas's men were veterans who had weathered storms long ago; they no longer cheered over such minor victories.

These cheering voices all came from Mil and the others' subordinates.

Of course, it wasn't just the guards ecstatic—Mil, Ian, and the other barons were equally beaming, as thrilled as if they'd won a massive battle with tens of thousands.

"Hah! So satisfying! Truly satisfying! Gervas, we actually defeated the orcs!"

"Yes! Gervas, listening to you was right—we actually won! This is a major achievement!"

"Gentlemen, we are not yet victorious," Gervas said, his expression still calm.

"Not yet victorious? Don't joke, Gervas—look at all these dead minotaurs on the ground! At least eighty or ninety orcs!"

"You don't know—scalps from northern orcs are the most valuable. Each is worth at least a gold coin, because they're so hard to kill!"

"Exactly, Gervas—with so many scalps, we're bound to be rewarded! After all, these past weeks, the south has heard nothing but news of our kingdom's legions being crushed by orcs!"

At that moment, Mil suddenly realized something and smirked, "I get it! You're afraid we'll steal your credit, right?"

"Don't worry—we know the rules. We won't take your credit. These orcs were mostly killed by you and your men; we only assisted."

"Of course, to make it look good, we'll each take five or six scalps for show—one gold coin per scalp—we know the rules!"

Clearly, Mil and the others had misunderstood.

Gervas wasn't generous, but he wasn't stingy either.

If he was eating meat, he'd certainly let them have some broth.

The real question was—was this tiny amount of merit really worth such joy?

"Gentlemen, we'll discuss merit distribution later. My point is—do you really think this little achievement is enough?"

Everyone froze.

"Gervas, what do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" Gervas smiled faintly. "There are still eight or nine hundred orcs over there. Don't you want to get a few more?"

"This… isn't that too risky?" The men were stunned.

Killing a few orcs in the camp had already made them ecstatic.

Now Gervas wanted to go to the main camp—where eight or nine hundred orcs waited.

"No risk at all! We charge now, kill another one or two hundred orcs, and we'll likely drive them off."

"Then how do you count this merit? Defeating over a thousand orcs and rescuing the main camp?!"

Mil and the others' hearts pounded.

The merit was indeed tempting.

But their doubts remained: "But Gervas, can we really pull this off?"

"With me, it's certain."

The men fell silent, then took a deep breath. "Alright, Gervas—we trust you!"

Immediately, Mil and the others halted their cheering troops, left the battlefield uncleaned, and each sent two-thirds of their men to follow Gervas toward the main camp.

Soon, they reached the outer edge of the main camp.

At this moment, the orcs attacking the main camp had all surged past the palisade.

Inside the camp, shouts of battle mixed with towering flames.

"When we move, do this…"

"Lord Gervas, will this work… I mean, will the orcs fall for it?"

"Of course they will. You saw the orcs who attacked our camp—they flew into a rage the moment they saw their kin killed by humans."

"Take these orc scalps and lure them. No orc can resist."

"But remember—don't carry too many. Too many are hard to control."

"Understood, Gervas!"

…

"Commander Lein, think of something quick!"

"There's no other way—we must keep fighting these orcs!"

"But how many of our men will we lose?" The nobles were nearly jumping out of their skins.

They had indeed held the orcs back, preventing them from breaching the camp's core and causing chaos.

But their losses were enormous—seven or eight hundred peasant soldiers and elite guards were already dead.

As for the orcs, only dozens had been wounded.

Judging by the situation, these orcs could keep fighting for a while longer.

If that happened, their losses would be catastrophic.

So the lesser nobles, hearts aching, begged Commander Lein to find a solution.

"No matter how many die, we must hold! If we retreat now, the orcs will gain even greater advantage—and we'll suffer even heavier losses!"

"Commander Lein, that's not what we mean. We're asking—can you summon all your legion guards? Their equipment is superior; they're far more effective than our peasants!"

"No. The vanguard has only two thousand legion guards—half are already engaged. The other thousand must be held in reserve."

The nobles grieved for their peasant soldiers; Commander Lein grieved just as much for his legion guards.

"But Commander Lein, our peasant soldiers have already suffered so many losses!"

"If this continues, we might lose three or four thousand!"

"Gentlemen, losses are unavoidable. The fact that we detected the orc ambush early is already a stroke of luck."

"Do you think the northern third of our territory was lost because our northern legions were cowardly? It was lost because the orcs are simply too strong!"

"Didn't you hear the rumors that our northern legions were incompetent? Now do you see the orcs' true strength?"

The nobles fell silent. Two days ago, outside Black Dragon City, they had indeed mocked the northern legions' incompetence.

But now…

"You green bastards—look over here!"

"Huh?"

At that moment, a shout reached their ears.

"What's going on?"

"We don't know!"

The nobles froze.

But scanning the battlefield, they saw no source for the shout.

"Green monsters—over here! Behind you!"

It wasn't just the nobles who were puzzled—every orc in battle was equally curious.

They knew full well that "green skins" and "green monsters" were human slurs for their own minotaur kind.

Just as they called humans "two-legged sheep."

"Roar! Roar! Roar!"

With this second taunt, the orcs finally spotted the two-legged sheep taunting them.

But when they saw what those two-legged sheep held in their hands, their fury exploded!

"Damned two-legged sheep—you dare insult our orc warriors like this!"