Chapter 463: Retreat to the Inner Camp!

“Good!”

Gervas, not far away, had been closely watching the light cavalry’s movements.

Faced with such an open and generous invitation from the orcs, Gervas naturally would not waste their goodwill.

Thus, he had arranged for the light cavalry to launch a surprise attack.

If successful, it would save a great deal of manpower and resources.

Otherwise, those two or three thousand orc warriors were no joke.

Fortunately, his surprise attack had already succeeded.

Next, he needed to quickly mobilize troops to support the light cavalry and prevent the gate they had just seized from falling back into enemy hands.

Fortunately, the wolf knights outside the camp had already been mostly eliminated.

“Lei Meng, Lawren! Immediately reinforce the light cavalry! Crush every enemy inside the King’s Tent Palace!”

“Yes, my lord!”

Lei Meng and Lawren did not dare delay; they immediately gathered their subordinates and rushed toward the King’s Tent Palace gate.

At this moment, Prada was also doing everything in his power to stop the human advance.

“Quick, stop them! Absolutely no letting these two-legged sheep breach the King’s Tent Palace!”

Prada now finally regretted—he shouldn’t have been so careless, sending out the wolf knights to try to wipe out this group of humans.

After all, the fact that these humans had suddenly appeared outside the King’s Tent Palace already indicated something unusual; he should have taken it seriously.

Too bad, it was now too late to say anything.

All he could do now was find a way to drive these humans back out of the camp.

Otherwise, if these humans truly broke into the camp…

Not only might the safety of the King’s Tent Palace be endangered, but even just the aftermath—when the Beast King learned of it—would leave Prada utterly humiliated.

Under Prada’s desperate shouts, large numbers of orc warriors began to gather.

As the orc army finally reacted, the Storm Legion faced a sudden surge in pressure.

Gervas quickly moved forward. “Lawren, take the King’s Tent Palace at all costs—you know what to do!”

“Yes, my lord!”

Lawren had long understood that the King’s Tent Palace was the key to whether any of them would survive this mission.

He now charged at the front, leading the Storm Legion in fierce combat.

The formation was built on spear infantry, with swordsmen guarding both flanks.

Light cavalry, crossbow teams, and artillery teams were assigned to cover the flanks.

With such tight coordination, even though the Storm Legion was vastly outnumbered, they still managed to hold their ground inside the King’s Tent Palace against the orcs.

Of course, the orcs stationed in the King’s Tent Palace were no third-rate fighters—they were among the most fierce and battle-hardened in the beast tribe.

This was evident from how, after witnessing the cannons’ roars, they did not scream in terror at divine punishment or retreat in disarray.

Instead, these orcs grew fiercer with each passing moment, showing no sign of retreat.

As more and more orcs appeared and the Storm Legion neared collapse, Lawren finally prepared to deploy his trump card.

“Storm Swordsmen, prepare Glory’s Wrath!”

Upon hearing the order, the swordsmen immediately pulled from their belts iron balls the size of fists.

Above each iron ball was inserted a fuse over ten centimeters long.

These were the trump cards Gervas had prepared for the swordsmen before the campaign… homemade grenades.

Gervas had held off using them until now, saving them for this critical moment.

The swordsmen took out their fire-starting tools, then without hesitation lit the fuses of their “Glory’s Wrath” and hurled them with all their strength into the orc ranks.

Of course, since the enemy was directly ahead, the swordsmen deployed Glory’s Wrath in waves.

This first wave—some forty to fifty grenades—were all thrown into the midst of the orc warriors.

At first, the orcs paid no mind to the iron balls that had struck them, thinking them merely painful projectiles.

But soon, they realized these iron balls were not so simple.

For the balls emitted sparks and hissed with a steady “chit-chit-chit.”

“What is this thing?”

BOOM! BOOM!

The moment the orcs’ minds registered this question, blinding light and deafening explosions engulfed them!

ROAR! ROAR! ROAR!

Forty to fifty explosions rang out; hundreds of orcs fell with furious, unwilling roars.

Although Glory’s Wrath might not directly kill too many hydra orcs,

its specially cut shell shattered into dozens or hundreds of fragments, inflicting heavy damage on orcs within range.

Each Glory’s Wrath could kill or severely wound at least four or five orcs.

In an instant, two to three hundred orcs lost their combat capability.

But this was not over—swordsmen who had already thrown their Glory’s Wrath immediately advanced, replacing their fallen comrades in battle.

Meanwhile, their comrades who had gained a moment’s respite quickly lit their own Glory’s Wrath and hurled them again.

BOOM! BOOM!

The explosions rang out once more, accompanied by the orcs’ furious, dying roars.

This scene repeated itself again and again over the next one or two minutes.

After all, all three hundred and fifty swordsmen had been equipped with Glory’s Wrath!

When every swordsman had thrown their final Glory’s Wrath, fewer than four hundred orcs remained capable of fighting in the outer camp.

Remember, the outer camp had originally held nearly two thousand orcs—now only three hundred or so remained. The casualty rate was staggering.

Moreover, there were no servant troops inside the King’s Tent Palace, causing the orc forces outside it to collapse entirely.

Even the orcs, whose fighting spirit had once been unshakable, were finally overwhelmed by fear from the relentless explosions.

“Damn it! Why is this happening? Why is this happening? What the hell are these humans?!”

Prada’s face had turned ashen.

The strange bows and three black iron tubes had already shocked him enough.

But he never imagined those were merely the beginning.

Two thousand beast tribe warriors—once capable of standing firm against tens of thousands of human troops—

were now utterly wiped out in less than two minutes.

The shock to his worldview was no less than witnessing actual divine punishment descend from heaven.

“Commander Prada, we must retreat! These humans are too powerful!”

“Yes! Deputy Commander Prada, the outer camp is lost! We must retreat behind the inner wall to hold our ground!”

Around him, orc leaders wore expressions of terror; seeing Prada frozen in stunned silence, they could no longer hold back and spoke up.

Prada, hearing their warnings, snapped out of his rage and shame.

He knew the situation—if they didn’t rely on the inner wall, they could not possibly hold back these humans.

Even though it was deeply humiliating, he had no choice but to endure it, gritting his teeth: “Order all beast warriors to retreat immediately behind the inner wall and reorganize the defense!”

“Yes, Deputy Commander Prada.”

WOOOOO!

The next instant, horn blasts rang out.

The orc warriors still fighting immediately began retreating, fleeing toward the inner camp at the rear of the camp.