Chapter 390

"Gentlemen, don't think you're going to die! You won't die now!"

"Huh? Why?" Mil and the others froze. Even if they were possessed by the Heavenly Gods, wouldn't this still mean certain death?

"Because our reinforcements have arrived! I heard shouting from the south!"

"R…reinforcements? Shouting from the south?" The men blinked, then strained their ears.

The next moment, they clearly heard faint shouts coming from afar in the south.

And there seemed to be a lot of them!

"R…really? Reinforcements? Wonderful! May the God of Glory protect us!"

"Yes! Our reinforcements have arrived! Ha ha, thank the God of Glory for His protection!"

Instantly, Mil and the others, who had just resigned themselves to death, began jumping and dancing, barely holding back tears of joy!

"Gentlemen, still want me to finish you off?" Gervas asked with a smile.

"Uh, no need at all! Gervas, reinforcements are here—we don't want to die!"

Exactly! Tonight we killed plenty of orcs with you and held the Gray Stone Bridge—both glory and survival! Why would we die? Gervas, pretend we just farted!

"Hahaha!"

Instantly, the nobles themselves burst into laughter.

…

"Lord Chief, something's wrong!"

"What is it?"

Hearing his subordinate's urgent report, Babik's heart lurched without reason.

"Lord Chief, the south… the south has appeared a human army!"

"What! How is this possible! Hongshi City is at least twenty li away!" Babik's face turned ashen.

Just ten more minutes, and he could have eliminated every noble in this camp.

Yet at this critical moment, a human force had appeared!

"How many humans?"

"Lord Chief, at least… four or five thousand…"

"Damn it!" Hearing his subordinate's answer, Babik's face darkened like stormwater.

Though human combat strength was weak, he'd already lost too many of his own tonight!

"Lord Chief, what do we do now? Should we retreat?"

"Retreat? No! I will kill these damned humans! Order everyone: attack these damned nobles with full force! Kill them all before the humans arrive!"

The subordinate stared at Babik's bloodshot eyes, wanting to offer some advice, but swallowed it down. "Yes, Lord Chief!"

"Orc warriors, the Lord Chief commands: attack these two-legged sheep! Eliminate them at maximum speed!"

"Roar! Roar! Roar!"

Hearing the order, the orcs surged forward again.

"Still thinking of killing us now? Your hatred runs deep—then let me crush your last hope!"

Gervas clicked his tongue. The orc chief had clearly lost his mind with rage.

Otherwise, retreating now would have cost little.

But if he delays, he won't be able to leave when he wants to!

"Spear formation, advance!"

Earlier, to preserve troops, Gervas had withdrawn the spearmen after the orcs breached the camp—narrow space, high risk.

But now, reinforcements would arrive in minutes; holding the line with spears for a while was perfectly fine.

Quickly, the spear formation formed up.

The swordsmen immediately stepped aside.

"Spear formation, advance!"

At the command, the spear formation surged forward, filling the space left by the swordsmen.

"Fool! Behind the wooden wall, your spearmen had some use. Now that the wall is gone, can your spearmen withstand the charge of five or six hundred of my orc warriors?"

Babik immediately noticed the change inside the camp.

Yet compared to the swordsmen, who could each stand alone against an orc warrior, Babik paid little heed to these spearmen.

Even though one of his subordinates had said earlier that such spear formations were hard to break.

But he now had over six hundred orc warriors.

"Spear formation, thrust!"

Of course, Babik's belief changed quickly.

For as the spearmen thrust forward, they instantly killed at least twenty orc warriors.

This kill efficiency was no worse than that of the ballistae.

"Damn it! You fools, block the spears! Sweep them aside, then charge!"

The orc subordinates gritted their teeth and swung their weapons to sweep the front-line spears.

And the effect?

They swept away the first two rows' dozens of spears—but the rear ranks' spears came in one after another!

"Spear formation, thrust!"

Puff! Puff! Puff!

Roar! Roar! Roar!

Another spray of blood, and over a dozen orcs fell, dying with rage.

"Lord Chief, we can't break through! These humans' formation is too tight, and they coordinate perfectly…"

The squad leader looked at Babik, face full of distress.

Babik was so furious he nearly spat blood, fists clenched till his knuckles cracked.

But he knew: the idea of killing these nobles before reinforcements arrived was shattered.

"Everyone, retreat!" he gritted out the order.

"Quick! Lord Chief's command: everyone retreat!"

Amid the shouts, the orcs finally began retreating.

"Now you think of retreating? Too late! Everyone, hold these orcs! Don't let them escape!"

"Exactly! Don't let these cowardly orcs who sneak at night get away! Chase them!"

"Cowardly orcs who sneak at night—don't run!"

Seeing the orcs retreat, and hearing the shouting from the southeast grow closer, Mil and the others suddenly gained courage and began chasing the orcs.

One must admit: success breeds confidence.

In the past, they would never have dared such a thing!

Puff!

Meanwhile, Babik, mid-retreat, was consumed by rage and spat a mouthful of blood!

If both raids had succeeded, it would've been fine.

But both raids failed—massive losses—and now these shameless two-legged sheep nobles were calling him cowardly.

"Lord Chief, enemy cavalry!"

At that moment, his subordinate's cry once again drew Babik's attention.

From the road in the southeast came the thunder of hooves.

Closer inspection revealed at least three or four hundred human cavalry.

Though human cavalry held little advantage over the tall, massive orcs,

their appearance would certainly delay them and inflict casualties.

"Ostyn Cavalry Regiment, charge!"

"Kill!"

At once, shouts rose, the hoofbeats grew fiercer, like thunder rolling across the plain.

This meant the cavalry had entered their final sprint.

"Slave troops, stop retreating! Block these human cavalry!"

Babik could only sacrifice the weak to save the strong.

His move had some effect: the slave troops, fearing orders, rushed to block the Ostyn Cavalry Regiment, buying the orcs precious seconds.

But only partial seconds.

When the orcs surged toward the head of the Gray Stone Bridge, the column immediately jammed.

The bridge was barely two or three meters wide—three orcs side by side fit perfectly; four were cramped.

Thus, even without pushing or shoving, the orcs still blocked the bridge.

Ha! The orcs are trapped there! Commander Darik, hurry—send the troops forward! These are all achievements! Don't let them escape!