Chapter 368

"This… this… am I seeing things?"

"You're not seeing things—I… I saw it too! Good heavens, who are they? How dare they be so bold?"

"That's right! They're carrying orc heads and provoking them—why haven't the orcs torn them apart yet?!"

I think I recognize one of them—he's a noble from the Southern Region, named Mil… yes, Baron Mil!

"Ah! Now I remember! They really are Southern Region nobles! Commander Solit assigned them to the valley—so the valley must not have been attacked by orcs!"

"But how could Southern Region nobles not fear orcs? How dare they come here to provoke the main camp?!"

The nobles exchanged glances, and after careful identification, someone finally recognized Mil and his companions.

Yet everyone at that moment was stunned by Mil's sheer audacity.

"This is true knightly nobility—courageous, unafraid of danger!" Commander Ryan suddenly spoke, his eyes filled with approval.

He had previously belittled the conscripted nobles for undermining his Northern Legion, so he'd shown none of them kindness.

Now, this spontaneous compliment carried immense weight.

"Trouble! Look—the orcs are chasing Baron Mil and his men!"

At that moment, a noble suddenly cried out.

Mil's taunting had worked—over a hundred orcs immediately gave chase.

Only then did Mil begin to flee.

"Baron Mil is truly brave!"

As they watched Mil and his men escape, the nobles felt no contempt.

They understood Mil had come to provoke these orcs to ease the burden on the main camp.

If it were them, given Mil's chance to escape, they'd have fled at once—never mind the main camp.

…

"Here they come! Gervas! The orcs are coming!"

Mil didn't know his reckless act, spurred entirely by Gervas, had already been hailed by Ryan and the others as the spirit of a fearless knight.

Seeing over a hundred orcs charging toward them, they didn't hesitate—they bolted for their lives.

After running a short distance, they spotted the ambush site ahead; fearing Gervas wasn't ready, they shouted warnings.

Fortunately, the orcs behind paid no mind to human schemes—in their eyes, these two-legged sheep were just more meat to be slaughtered in waves.

"Baron Mil, don't worry!"

A voice came from ahead.

"Spearmen, rise!"

"Kill!"

"Spearmen, raise your spears!"

"Kill!"

One hundred spearmen rose from the grass, forming a twenty-meter-wide human wall.

Mil and his men finally exhaled in relief. "Gervas, exactly a hundred orcs—should be fine, right?"

"Perfect. Just right."

Gervas was satisfied—this number allowed the smallest possible losses.

One more would be too many; one less would be too few.

"Roar! You ignorant two-legged sheep—are you looking for death?!"

The orcs caught the humans' contempt and flew into a rage.

As for the extra hundred spearmen, they paid them no mind.

"Brave orc warriors, tear these two-legged sheep apart!"

"Roar! Kill!"

With shouts, the orcs surged forward toward the spear formation.

Their fate, of course, was the same as the orcs before them.

The spear formation they'd expected to break easily became an impassable chasm.

As they roared and shoved aside the front rank of spears, they were met by more gleaming spears from behind.

Then, crimson blossoms exploded across the orcs' bodies—like dazzling fireworks.

Puff! Puff! Puff!

Roar! Roar! Roar!

The orcs let out furious roars—unwilling cries before death.

Of course, as Lei Meng had said, even if they screamed until their throats burst, it would do no good.

"Spearmen, withdraw!"

"Spearmen, thrust!"

Puff! Puff! Puff!

The spearmen moved like emotionless reapers.

Following their formation captain's orders, they mechanically slaughtered the orcs.

Though brutal, the orcs were intelligent—they soon realized they couldn't break through the spear formation head-on.

The orc commander roared: "Quick! Attack from both flanks!"

Though only half his men remained, if they could break the sides, he was certain his orc warriors would still win this battle!

But he didn't know Mil and his men had been waiting for this moment.

After all, this was a rare chance to earn glory.

"All of you, charge! Kill these damn green-skinned monsters! Kill one green-skinned monster—ten silver coins reward! Shared kills count too!"

Ten silver coins?

The guards and peasant soldiers widened their eyes—this was no small sum.

And shared kills meant greatly reduced risk.

"Kill!"

Instantly, the guards and peasant soldiers no longer feared—they charged toward the orcs on the flanks.

After all, the Stormspears' effortless combat had inspired them—they now knew orcs could be killed!

Roar! Roar! Roar!

Facing the furious charge of guards and peasant soldiers, the orcs soon realized they were trapped.

First, they were too few; second, the spearmen refused to let them go.

So they had to defend against the spearmen while also dealing with enemies on both sides.

"Did you hear that?"

"We heard it… such loud roars—those damn orcs must be thrilled from all the killing!"

"Baron Mil is probably dead… he was a true knight!"

Meanwhile, in the camp, Ryan and the others faintly heard the distant roars.

At the orcs' roars, their expressions grew grim—they naturally imagined Mil and his Southern troops being slaughtered.

Only when orcs were drunk on slaughter did they make such ecstatic, pig-like noises!

As the orcs' roars peaked and began to fade, they knew Mil and his men were likely dead.

"I will report this! Mil and his men's bravery must be remembered by all!" Ryan said solemnly.

Though posthumous honor was often useless.

But it was at least his way of showing respect.

The nobles nodded in unison—no one objected. This was what Baron Mil deserved…

"Hey, green-skinned monsters—I'm back!"

Just as everyone mourned Mil's presumed sacrifice, a shout came from outside the camp.

"Huh…?"

Everyone froze, then stared wide-eyed at the faint figure approaching.

There stood Mil and his men—still carrying orc heads, continuing to taunt the orcs.

"M…Mil? I… I'm not seeing things, am I?"

"You're not—everyone saw it!"

"But… weren't they killed by the orcs?"

"Exactly! Even if the orcs didn't kill them, where are the orcs?!"

No one answered their questions—not even the orc leader, who wore the same confused expression.

"Roar! Bastards! What happened to our orc warriors?!"

Earlier, when humans appeared behind them with their kin's heads, he'd guessed something was wrong with Batuo's side.

But since his own front was still dominant, he ignored it—only sent a hundred men to chase and distract.

Now, barely seven or eight minutes later, the humans who'd been running away were back.

And his warriors? Gone.

He was stunned—and furious.