Chapter 379: The Orc Ambush!

Time passed second by second.

Although the servant troops inside the wooden fort fought hard, their numerical disadvantage and crude weapons—most wielding wooden spears and stone axes—allowed the vanguard troops to gradually scale the walls.

At this moment, the nobles knew the critical juncture had arrived.

They immediately dispatched messengers, ordering their elite guards to advance, hoping to seize the fort in one decisive push.

Even Commander Lei Meng no longer hoarded his legion soldiers, issuing orders for all legion troops to launch a full-scale assault.

Instantly, the fighting along the front and left walls intensified.

As the elite guards entered the fray, the orcs joined the battle as well.

Yet compared to the front and left walls, the Southern Border Legion on the right seemed conspicuously inactive.

For those two thousand soldiers still stood motionless in place!

At once, all the nobles kept glancing toward Mil.

They clearly hoped Mil and the Southern Border nobles would also commit their forces, to finally win this battle.

Lei Meng could no longer hold back, given the current situation.

The two hundred orcs inside the camp had been fully drawn in; only five to six hundred servant troops remained on the right—this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

"Lord Mil, this is the best chance to storm the wooden fort. Might the Southern Border forces now launch a full attack?"

"Uh…" Mil froze, glancing subtly at Gervas.

Gervas gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head; Mil's face instantly twisted into a grimace.

"This… this… Commander Lei Meng, I think we should wait a little longer!"

Whoa!

The nobles had not expected such an answer.

Commander Lei Meng had been observing Gervas out of the corner of his eye all along.

He had seen Gervas shake his head.

Instantly, he too wore a look of helplessness.

Though, thanks to his past achievements, he had granted Gervas maximum "freedom."

For instance, allowing earlier delays, deliberate preservation of strength.

But now, at the critical moment of the campaign,

if the Southern Border forces faltered,

even as commander of the vanguard, he could not escape blame afterward.

"Lord Mil, then when exactly do you plan to move?"

"This…"

Mil was nearly in tears.

This isn't my fault!

Ask Gervas!

Facing the nobles' confused and skeptical stares, Mil felt as if needles were pricking his skin.

"Roar! Roar! Roar! Orc warriors, kill!"

But just then, an unexpected change erupted.

Distant shouts of battle suddenly rang out.

Everyone gasped and turned back toward the wooden fort.

Yet to their confusion, the orcs inside the fort were still locked in combat with their own troops, showing no additional movement.

Then where had that roar come from?

"Ah, look! On the right… the right hill—those are orcs!"

"Damn it! Orks! There's an ambush in the woods on the right hill!"

But soon, some nobles realized the true problem.

In the woods atop the right hill, a group of orcs flickered in and out, charging downhill.

In an instant, every noble broke into a cold sweat.

"Quick! Recall your troops—it's an orc ambush!"

"Yes! Pull back your forces! If we're caught between two fronts, we'll suffer catastrophic losses!"

"Too late! Our men are already locked in combat with the orcs inside the fort!"

The nobles panicked.

Though the ambush force numbered only two to three hundred,

given the orcs' combat prowess and the surprise attack from the wilderness, it would severely disrupt their campaign today.

The best course now was to withdraw their troops immediately, avoiding encirclement and collapse.

But it was too late.

The orcs had chosen their moment perfectly—just as their elite soldiers had scaled the walls.

If they retreated now, they would instantly collapse and lose their elite troops as well.

Lei Meng's face grew grim; he instinctively glanced at Gervas.

Yet when he saw Gervas's calm, composed expression, he froze.

"Could it be…"

Lei Meng recalled the Southern Border forces' strange behavior earlier, and a sudden unease stirred in his chest.

"Spearmen! Form ranks!"

At that moment, a shout came from afar!

It was the two thousand Southern Border soldiers—who had seemed lazy moments ago—who now moved.

Two thousand men, centered on a hundred spearmen, assembled and advanced deliberately toward the forest at the hill's base.

"This…" The nobles stared, faces filled with shock and doubt, all turning to Mil.

Mil himself was stunned, but sensing the nobles' gazes, he immediately lifted his head high.

"Orc warriors! Kill!"

"Spearmen! Thrust!"

"Kill!"

Moments later, the orcs collided with the two thousand Southern Border soldiers.

As the nobles prayed that these two thousand Southern Border troops could hold back the orc ambush, an astonishing sight unfolded—both shocking and joyful.

The orcs, who had charged forward with ferocious momentum, suddenly halted—next instant, they were forcibly stopped by the strange spear formation.

So this was how the Southern Border Legion had dealt with the orcs that night?

Now the nobles finally understood: how the Southern Border Legion had defeated the orcs lured away that night.

That's how it should be!

We're all minor nobles—why can your guards face orcs without fear?

It's because of their weapons!

The nobles all memorized the spear, vowing to form their own units afterward.

Once assembled, they would never again fear northern campaigns.

Gervas sensed the nobles' emotions, yet remained utterly expressionless.

The spear formation holding back the orcs seemed simple.

In truth, few others besides his men could achieve it.

Not just formation density, combat coordination, or soldiers' courage—

even strength alone was something other nobles could not replicate.

Without sufficient strength, a single orc's spiked club sweep could shatter entire ranks of spears.

Thus, this spear formation could only defeat orcs under Gervas's command.

Even if other nobles copied it, they could only use it against human opponents of similar strength.

Roar! Roar! Roar!

From the distant battlefield came furious roars—the orcs' rage and frustration.

After failing to break the spear line head-on, they naturally sought gaps on the flanks.

But Gervas gave them no chance—he actively pressed them from both sides.

Gervas's two hundred and fifty sword guards, shields in hand, formed the front line, forcing the orcs backward into the forest.

Of course, from afar, it appeared as if nearly two thousand noble troops in dark masses were driving the orcs into the woods.

After all, the nobles stood on flat ground and could not see the front ranks clearly.

Once inside the forest, the Stormguard wasted no time—they scattered and began actively surrounding and killing the orcs.

The orcs had assumed that, once in the forest, the humans' tight formations would lose effectiveness, granting them the upper hand.

But once inside, witnessing the humans' strength, they were filled with shock and terror.

When had these small, puny humans become capable of fighting them one-on-one?