Chapter 395

"Hah! Great! Finally, we don't have to stay in this godforsaken place anymore!"

"Yeah! I heard those guys outside Redstone City have it easy—every day they get to drink and have fun inside the city!"

"Yeah! Once we get back outside Redstone City, we're definitely hitting the bars, then picking out two beautiful dancers... hehe..."

Listening to Mil and the others' lewd laughter, Gervas was amused.

These fools probably have no idea what awaits them after returning.

According to prior intelligence, since the main force recalled them, they must have completed their rest.

And after rest, the natural next step is to launch an offensive—to face those forty thousand orcs head-on.

So, once these men return, what awaits them is likely marching straight to the battlefield with the main force.

And the reality proved exactly as Gervas had predicted.

When they returned outside Redstone City, the main force gave them not even a moment's rest—immediately began mobilizing.

"Gentlemen, you are the Southern Front unit stationed at Graystone Bridge, correct?"

"That's right, we are!"

"Gentlemen, please return immediately to your Southern Front unit! The army is about to march—you must register before departure!"

"This... it's already noon! Why must we leave immediately? Can't we wait until tomorrow?"

The Northern Legion cavalrymen looked at Mil and the others as if they were fools. "Apologies, gentlemen, this is the order of the Legion's Supreme Commander—it cannot be delayed!"

"Ahem, thank you, gentlemen. We understand—we'll find our unit at once!" Gervas thanked them and dismissed the Northern Legion cavalry.

"Damn it! Why won't they even give us half a day's rest? We held Graystone Bridge for so many days, never once enjoyed ourselves, and even got ambushed by orcs!"

"Yeah! That ambush—if it weren't for Gervas and House Austin, we'd probably be dead now. This is so unfair!"

After the Northern Legion cavalry left, Mil, Ian, and the others immediately began complaining.

"Gentlemen, with the merits you earned at Green River Valley and Graystone Bridge, aren't you confident you'll get to enjoy yourselves after the battle?"

"So I suggest you all endure a little longer—kill more orcs now, and you'll live better afterward!"

Though Mil and the others were relatively ambitious compared to other inland nobles,

they still carried the common noble flaw of this world: endure a few days of hardship, then demand lavish comfort.

Ever since earning merit at Graystone Bridge the day before, they'd been fixated on celebrating inside Redstone City—hence their deep resentment today.

"Gervas, we just wanted to celebrate early! But you're right—more heads mean we'll enjoy ourselves more after the campaign!"

"Exactly! If each of us can gather two hundred heads, even if we can't be promoted in rank, we might still earn a fief!"

"Right! For our titles and lands, let's all push harder!"

"Greetings, Commander Kael!"

"Oh? You're back?"

"Yes, Commander Kael. We received orders to rejoin our unit and march with the army!"

"Good. Then rejoin your unit—we're departing immediately!"

"By the way, Baron Mil, congratulations—you've become quite famous now!"

Southern Front noble unit camp.

When Gervas and the others returned, the camp was nearly packed.

They went straight to Commander Kael, who oversaw the Southern Front unit.

Commander Kael's tone toward them was far more courteous than before.

Clearly, the news of Mil's public commendation had elevated the group's standing in his eyes.

"Also, after this, report to the quartermaster—you each may claim three barrels of beer. These are gifts from Redstone City nobles, arranged to comfort the conscripted troops!"

"Understood, Commander Kael!"

After greeting him, Gervas and the others prepared to leave.

But as they turned to go, Gervas suddenly felt something and glanced toward the rear of the Southern Front camp.

He met the gaze of a middle-aged nobleman.

The man wore lavish silk robes, his hair slicked with wax, gleaming neatly.

Yet his eyes, fixed on Gervas, brimmed with gloom and venom.

Without doubt, this was Farrio's father... Minister Willard.

And indeed, after studying the man's features, Gervas immediately recognized the threefold resemblance to Farrio.

Meeting his gaze, Gervas showed no fear—instead, he smiled broadly, brilliantly.

This sight, of course, sent Willard—who already seethed with hatred—into a rage. His fists clenched, knuckles cracking, nails digging into his palms.

Yet beyond this, neither side made another move.

Soon, Gervas followed Mil and the others away.

About ten minutes later, horns blared, and the army began its northward advance.

Their destination: the orc encampment ten miles outside Redstone City.

In just an hour and a half, they arrived.

The orcs had already sensed the kingdom's army's movement.

But instead of defending their camp, the orcs poured out en masse, forming ranks on the open wasteland.

"Order the troops—prepare for battle!"

The Northern Legion's Supreme Commander gave no hesitation—he issued the battle command immediately.

Though the enemy numbered over ten thousand orcs, his own force totaled one hundred fifty thousand—this advantage was overwhelming.

Of course, the orcs were not mindless brutes; they understood their disadvantage.

That's why they dared to face the kingdom's army with only ten thousand orcs and thirty thousand auxiliaries—they relied on a river thirty meters wide between the two sides.

This was the Pearl River, flowing down from Graystone Bridge upstream.

Though this stretch was calmer and narrower than at Graystone Bridge, crossing to the opposite bank still required only the six-meter-wide stone bridge spanning the Pearl River.

Thus, the bridge and its approaches were now heavily guarded by orc forces.

At least two thousand hydra orcs personally held the bridgehead—truly one man could hold it against ten thousand.

Of course, the Northern Legion's Supreme Commander had prepared thoroughly for crossing—numerous rafts, among other tools.

These past two days, while ostensibly for rest, were actually spent preparing these crossing devices.

Woooo!

Horns sounded, and the entire army moved.

"Gentlemen, don't stand there—move! Advance now!"

First to be deployed were Gervas and the conscripted noble units.

They would lead the initial river-crossing assault.

Behind them, another special unit from the kingdom's army also stirred—the Northern Legion's catapult detachment.

Five massive catapults, slowly assembled by craftsmen, rose into place.