Chapter 373: Young Cub

The swing of the axe caused a cloud of dust to rise, and Thales had no choice but to shut his eyes.

But in the end, he escaped the fate of being chopped into two by the axe.

During that dangerous moment, a single-edged battle axe came swinging at them from the direction of the campfire, striking the orc's unprotected underarm while its wielder let out an earth-shaking roar.

The orc let out a shrill cry of pain. The red blood in its body splattered on Thales' face, who was panting arduously.

It stank, and had a pungent smell.

As always.

As the axe struck him, the orc's crude greataxe fell out of its hand and sank deep into the sand beside Thales' left, with a force that can split the ground open.

The tall and big orc growled in an unfamiliar language. It swung its arm, which was as thick as a normal person's thigh, at the person wielding the battle axe. But the person nimbly dodged the orc's arm.

"Get up!"

Dean the bald mercenary's powerful voice rang in the air, and it was extremely clear despite the battle cries around him. It made Thales perk up.

"There's no more time to rest!"

The Power of Eradication surged to the teenage boy's back and chest, reducing the tightness in his chest slightly. Thales rolled over and trembled as he crawled towards the orc's greataxe. He struggled up and wiped the blood off his face. He exercised his numb limbs while still badly shaken.

The orc, whose neck was pierced by Thales, still looked extremely violent. It did not care about the wound on its neck and underarm at all. Instead, he roared in a language Thales did not understand and pounced on Big Dean.

The calm mercenary held his axe with both hands and made a show of charging towards the orc. However, at the moment he approached the orc, he rolled sideways and nimbly dodged the orc's pounce.

"Hurar, nadaleis!" When it missed its target, the orc howled in exasperation and turned.

As it pounced like a lunatic, the orc's blood splattered on the dry ground, making it wet.

Dean fixed his gaze at the spot below the orc's feet, but he did not face it head-on. Instead, he relied on his body size and nimble steps to make deceptive movements and feints, dodging the orc's powerful charge twice in a row, just like a bird evading a ferocious panther.

With each passing second, the orc's blood flowed out slower, and there was lesser blood as time passed as well.

Finally, Thales saw with relief that the orc rasped and swayed a little. Its movements became slow.

Dean did not let go of this opportunity.

He moved in an instant, going beside the orc like a whirlwind. He brandished his axe and chopped down the ugly head.

The headless body waved its huge arm, which was a few feet long, for the last time and collapsed to the ground.

Thales heaved a sigh of relief.

"The wound you inflicted on him made things a lot easier for me." Dean panted and pulled Thales up. He tossed the spare one-handed sword on his waist to the teenager and kicked the burly corpse. "But remember, Wya, don't get entangled with them. Orcs do not fall immediately once they are wounded. Instead, the more heavily injured they are...

"The more dangerous their counterattack is... I know this." Thales gritted his teeth and caught the weapon. "I'm sorry. Someone taught me that before, but during an actual fight..."

Even though it had been a few thousand years since the Holiness Exorcism Campaign, this tall, strong and fearless foreign species remained as the Northlanders' eternal enemy in their classrooms.

Sentry Region—located northernmost of Eckstedt—was the one territory in the entire kingdom that was the most detached from the common-elected king's influence. They were even exempted from paying a considerably large part of the taxes to the common-elected king. Instead, they used the money to form the elite force, the Glacial Sentries, which was not any less renowned than the White Blade Guards. This was all because the Stustel Family beared the important responsibility to guard the Thirty-Eighth Sentry Ground and watch out for the glacial orcs to the north of Glacial Quiquer, and they had shouldered that responsibility for generations.

And since Eckstedt was established, more than twenty common-elected kings had led troops to assist the north and fight against those from Glacial Orc Tribe, who crossed the border to the south. Fighting against orcs was one of the compulsory courses, whether it was in the military training that worthy Northland aristocrats received since they were young, or the routine training of recruits at the age of enlistment.

All the guards in Heroic Spirit Palace said that before Nicholas got his title, he had already followed King Nuven to the Thirty-Eighth Sentry Ground and proved his ability to fight evenly against orcs. But in face of the delicate archduchess and her dagger, which she swung as if she was sewing, the Star Killer, who was quite knowledgeable when it came to fighting against orcs, could only vent the frustration of his 'unrecognized talent' on his second student. The Prince of Constellation would not have the chance to go to the north, anyway. For example, he pushed Thales countless times to the ground with his greataxe, and rudely continued to beat Thales up even after Thales screamed madly countless times for him to stop. He then gave his actions an excuse by saying that "this is the power of orcs".

But Thales never thought that he would, in the end, forget Nicholas' teachings during his first fight with orcs.

Thales looked at the headless corpse with fear lingering in his heart, recalling the unstoppable force when it swung its axe at Thales even with the wound on its neck.

'What sort of species is this!'

The orcs who wandered to the Great Desert after the Battle of Eradication were perhaps a little different compared to their frightening distant relatives who were stayed and defended their place in the north. But they were still similar in many aspects such as their massive size, their shocking ability to recover, their endurance towards pain and heat, their frightening explosive power and the counterattack they launched when they were near death, which had a notorious reputation among humans. It was said that the renowned Iron Blood King was killed by the last strike of a dying orc, who was under his feet.

Dean said nothing and only thumped Thales' chest. He still looked worried.

"Be careful!"

When he heard Louisa's anxious yell, Dean pushed Thales aside.

A fierce-looking spiked mace smashed into the sand between them, causing a cloud of sand to rise.

This was not the only threat on Dean's side. He turned and fended off another orc's irregular machete, taking the opportunity of his movements to dodge.

Thales steadied himself and saw the wielder of the spiked mace clearly under the moonlight. It was an orc with blue paint on its face. There was a hideous scar above its left eye, and the fur on its head was tied into short braids. It was wearing more armor than the orc just now, and was even bigger in size. Its height was almost like that of one and a half-grown man.

It glanced at the corpse on the ground. It then parted its lips and revealed two gritted rows of teeth. It looked at Dean, who was fighting against it, and then at Thales.

"Sel," the orc before his eyes said slowly with a hoarse voice, "Luma, sokadasel."

Thale could not discern the orc's expression, but this did not affect his judgement of the orc's emotion.

The orc blood on his face was not dry yet and was slightly sticky. The prince endured the bloody stench and moved into his attacking stance.

"'Orcs... when they crush your skulls, they can do so effortlessly, as effortlessly as when we crack eggs.'"

This was what the awkward Gleeward told Thales in Dragon Clouds City before they parted.

Thales was too well aware of this right then.

Almost all of them were seven or eight feet tall; some were even taller. Not only did they possess astonishing strength, but also agile movements. Even though their weapons were heavy and crude, when it came to efficiency, those weapons did not fall short of the finely forged weapons of humans.

The orcs were superior to humans in terms of body size, strength and physique... It was hard to imagine how the miracle of a few thousand humans defeating twenty thousand orcs in the Holiness Exorcism Campaign two thousand years ago was created.

Thales gritted his teeth hard.

A distance away, Louisa arduously stalled three of their opponents with a two-handed sword and nimble steps, and it was an astonishing sight to behold.

Mickey nimbly rolled about and sped alone on the sand, brandishing his dual machetes and confusing several of his opponents. He relied on random objects and obstacles to move as he fought, wanting to go near Louisa.

Schubert, Old Hammer, Kant and Quick Rope had their backs against each other and arduously warded off the orcs who surrounded them.

The other people were not this lucky.

Even though the merchants had their own armor and weapons too, their skills were obviously not up on par to the mercenaries. With the orcs' overwhelming advantage when it came to quantity and quality, the merchant group suffered heavy casualties, and nonstop wails could be heard from all around Thales.

The battle cries continued. The orcs no longer tried to hide the fact that they were trying to ambush them. They spoke in an unfamiliar language and shook the dunes with their sonorous voices.

"Wya, there's another key when it comes to fighting against the mixed breeds." Dean panted and forced his opponent to move backwards with a swing of his axe. "Don't be left alone at all times, even if there's only one orc opposite you."

Under the moonlight, two more tall, robust and gray figures slid down from the dune. The two figures raised their weapons and charged towards them.

"Go to Louisa. I will cover your retreat."

Thales nodded anxiously.

"Run!"

Almost at the same moment the teenage boy started running, the orc with blue paint on its face roared furiously and brandished its spiked mace. "Freuca!"

But Dean did not let it have its way. He parried the spiked mace with his battle axe.

*Clang!*

Thales listened to the whistles of wind behind him and resisted the urge to turn. He desperately summoned the Sin of Hell's River and charged towards the bonfire with an astonishing speed. He pounced on the floor and whipped out a shield from Schubert's travelling bag.

The moment he lifted his head, he saw through the corners of his eyes that a big and strong figure was raising its machete at him!

He attacked with the sword style he had practiced numerous times, as if by instinct.

"'No matter what, always raise the shield in your left hand up high! There are only two situations where you can put it down.'"

"'When you are dead, or when the enemy dies!'"

The teachings that never faded from his mind throughout these six years echoed by his ears again. Iron Body style!

The machete struck the shield hard.

*Clang!*

A frightening loud sound shot into the air, along with a great force of impact. A terrifying force surged up Thales' arm!

At that moment, Thales had the impression that the strike could break the walls of a city.

His feet kept sliding backwards in the sand, and the shield in front of his arm trembled violently.

But Thales managed to stand still.

As per habit, from the moment he lifted his shield, he adjusted his center of gravity to receive the impact, and his feet were ready to neutralize the force. This habit from the Northland Military Sword Style had always drawn a snicker from many people, from Nicholas to Wya. All of them thought that Thales' defense was too stiff and conservative, lacking in agility and speed, leaving him with no room to fight back.

But the moment he warded off the machete, Thales suddenly understood.

In a fight against orcs, you did not really have the chance to be 'agile' and 'quick'.

Compared to human opponents, the orcs' frightening strength concealed far too many of their weaknesses. One fatal strike from them would ruin your move, destroy your movements and render your gaudy and fancy follow-up response completely useless.

If you lost your composure during the first round in this battle where both sides had a great disparity in strength...

"Selka!" The orc growled and moved!

Thales instinctively swung his arm and switched to a defense position. He turned to neutralize the force of impact and the strength from the orc's blow, then moved to the orc's side.

This was another special characteristic of the sword style that was often criticized.

"Are you in heat? Why are you wiggling your butt? Who are you showing it to? That large stallion? Or the archduchess beside you?" This was Nicholas' original cruel words after he kicked Thales and made him fall during one of the lessons.

The prince inhaled deeply and lowered his body. The Power of Eradication surged into his right hand, and he attacked for the first time since the fight began.

*Schick!*

The sword tip ripped open the unprotected back of the orc's knee, causing blood to spurt out.

Heel Breaker from Flank Maneuver, which was the second set of the attack stance from the Northland Military Sword Style.

Thales subconsciously furrowed his eyebrows tightly.

The orc wailed in pain. Its left leg was slightly uncoordinated, but it attacked even more fiercely.

Thales forced himself to calm down. He did not attack in a hurry. Instead, he circled the orc's injured leg, and relying on his tiny build, fought while he retreated. He parried the orc's machete, which seemed like it was going to tear the air open, with his shield for the third time. The impact made his arm numb.

The Power of Eradication flowed through his entire body in a carefree manner. His hell's senses not only showed him the movements of the opponent before his eyes in his mind, it also showed him the battle in the distance, causing him to feel dizzy. Dean was encircled, pursued and intercepted by three orcs. On the other hand, Louisa managed to move past one of her opponents and charged towards Thales.

Finally, Thales seized the opportunity. After defending with the Iron Body Style again, he thrust his longsword upwards like a rattlesnake towards the opponent's chest during the intervals between its attacks.

The orc's skin was coarser and harder than he had imagined, but the opponent's momentum aided Thales. The prince felt his shield and longsword quiver at the same time while he gritted his teeth hard!

*Spurt!*

Velvety and warm liquid gushed out, flowed along the blade of his sword, and dripped on his arm.

"Hurar!" The orc who had its chest pierced screamed loudly. It contorted its face, and it looked uglier the more twisted its face became.

Thales, who had learned his lesson, knew that things were about to get worse. Without hesitating, he withdrew his longsword and threw himself to the side.

The next moment.

*Thud!*

The opponent shattered the campfire beside Thales with its machete, causing sparks to fly.

The orc did not get to go a step further, as Louisa appeared from the darkness beside it and chopped down its machete-wielding palm.

"Beautiful!" Louisa dodged the dying opponent, letting the orc roll around from the pain of being burned, having its chest pierced, and a broken arm. It violently hammered the ground beside it and bled non-stop. "Is this the first time you see an orc?"

Thales shook his head. After letting down his guard, his entire body hurt and was numb.

"The second time."

'The first orc I saw was already killed by Dean.'

But they did not have the time to chat, as help was not the only thing Louisa brought with her. There were also two orcs trailing her.

The wind howled, and Thales instinctively turned over again!

But he had already depleted a large amount of his strength, causing his movements to no longer reach the benchmark, and the opponent's heavy sword struck his shield.

Thales felt his left arm quiver. He then lost balance and fell head-first to the ground. He could not control himself, some sand went into his mouth.

'Damn it!'

Jines told him before that falling down on the battlefield was equivalent to...

Thales turned over and watched as the heavy sword continued moving towards him.

At this moment, a figure crashed into the sword-wielding orc and sent it flying a few meters away!

It was Halgen, the man with the big belly.

"Louisa!"

Halgen, who just saved Thales' life, was drenched in sweat. He was wielding a frightening claw hammer. He waved it with great strength and forced a few successive opponents to draw back.

Thales arduously got up and nodded gratefully at him.

"Breeze is down, and Furnace is dead." Halgen was covered in wounds, he could not be bothered to respond to Thales. There was hatred on his face. "The gray mixed breeds know that they're peripheral patrols, and eight or nine of them surrounded the patrols at the same time..."

"F*ck!"

The female captain cursed with a feminine yell and struck the shoulder armor of one of the orcs with her sword.

*Whoosh!*

A long arrow swooped over and forced an orc, who wanted to attack Louisa from both sides, to draw back.

"They've realized that we're the key, and are coming over here." Palka the archer returned behind Halgen. He looked anxious, and there were very few arrows left in his quiver. "I encountered a good marksman among gray mixed breeds! After being hit by three of my arrows, the creature didn't even..."

But he did not get to finish.

The next moment, a crude black arrow with a hideous fletching pierced into Palka's chest with astonishing force, and came out from his underarm.

Thales trembled violently!

The archer stared at the arrow that pierced through his body in shock.

"Motherf*cker... What dad said was right.

"What's the use of shooting accurately?"

Palka said each of his words with great effort. He swayed, and in the end, collapsed weakly to the ground.

"If the target doesn't die from the shot, I still lose."

"Palka!" Louisa's sad and shrill scream rose into the air. "Motherf*cking mixed breed!"

Thales looked into the distance in disbelief.

Under the moonlight, an orc who had its lips painted white coldly put down a frighteningly huge and heavy black bow, then started dealing with its injury—three gleaming long arrows.

But the mercenaries had no time to avenge their companion's death. Another group of orcs surrounded them from afar.

Thales raised his shield with all his might and quickly rushed behind the shocked and angry Louisa to fend off an attack for her. But the force of impact from the orc made him lose balance.

'It won't do.

'We're not on the same level as them at all when it comes to military power.

'If this continues...'

He was about to turn and call Halgen, but...

"Watch out!" Thales screamed in shock!

Just when Halgen sent an orc who wanted to pounce on him back with his claw hammer and panted, another orc suddenly appeared behind him!

*Clang!*

A familiar spiked mace crashed into Halgen's weapon and knocked him on the ground.

Thales wanted to rush over to help him, but the orc beside him attacked him again.

The orc who struck Halgen down had familiar blue paint on his face. It lifted the dizzy Halgen and glared at Thales fiercely. Burning in its eyes was a hatred that even those who were not its race could recognize. "Freuca!"

In the next second, in his terror, Thales saw the blue-faced orc extend an arm and seize Halgen's head.

As if it was grabbing a chick, it rammed Halgen's head to its steel chest plate with an enraged howl!

Due to its great strength, a strange sound that would send shivers down someone's spine shot up when Halgen's skull crashed into steel.

*Crack!*

Thales shuddered.

"No! Halgen!" Dean's roars traveled out from behind the blue-faced orc.

Just like that, the Alumbian, Halgen, who wanted to have his little sister marry Thales, had his head—previously still perfect and undamaged—change shape just like that. Red and white substances gushed out of his head.

He fell limp to the ground and did not move.

"'Orcs... when they crush your skulls, they can do so effortlessly, as effortlessly as we crack eggs...'"

These words echoed in Thales' head again, causing him to be incredibly horrified.

"Sokka! Freuca!" The blue-faced orc roared furiously at Thales and flung its sticky left hand before it struck its chest plate, covered in brains and blood. Then, it walked over.

But it turned around while it was halfway to Thales.

"Mixed breed!" Dean pounced on it while he roared. His battle axe collided against the spiked mace. "I'm your enemy, you f*cker!"

Thales shook his head and chased away the fear in his mind.

But the fight had yet to end. The stench of blood still remained as swords and blades flashed.

The orcs' murderous shouts had yet to diminish, but the screams of pain and fear from the merchant group had grown fewer.

"Behind you!" As he roared, the Northlander, Kant pounced on Dean even though he himself was covered in wounds. He pushed him away and helped the bald man block an axe attack aimed at his back.

As dozens of orcs pursued them, Old Hammer and Quick Rope rushed over while panting and gasping. They broke out of the encirclement and met up with the others. They took over Thales and Louisa's places in the front row, who had gradually become drained of strength.

Louisa, who had been surrounded all this while, finally got a chance to catch her breath. She asked, "How are the other people in the merchant group and the others?"

"Schubert's dead." Old Hammer turned around and avoided a heavy blow. He gave a simple report of his comrade's death.

Quick Rope continued with his words with a quiver in his voice. "He acted as our rearguard."

Louisa stomped the ground with her foot, feeling pain in her heart, but there was no longer any time for her to mourn for her comrades.

"The merchant group is gone," the dishevelled Mickey rushed forward from behind her and spoke swiftly, "I'll search for horses. If we don't break out of this encirclement soon, we'll die here!"

Old Hammer swung his weapon desperately for a while, forcing four enemies coming at him from a direction several steps backwards.

"Damn it!" Louisa gasped in pain. "Dean!"

"I know!" During the fight, Dean's voice changed slightly, but he seemed to still be thinking.

"Archers, armors, weapons, ferocious beasts ambushed us suddenly at the same time. They had organized military tactics and formations... and this scale of attack... these gray mixed breeds!"

The bald mercenary gritted his teeth and shouted loudly, "They aren't exiles! They're brave men from their tribes, proper warriors from some big tribe in the desert!"

Thales was momentarily taken aback.

'Big tribe? An orc's... tribe?'

At that moment, a strange sound traveled into the air.

*Hiss!*

"Careful!" Dean roared angrily. He threw a feint, moved past the incredibly enraged blue-faced orc, and shouted at Kant, "Lizard soldiers!"

Thales felt his skin crawl. A nonhuman figure with four of its limbs on the ground squirmed about while letting out a strange cry and charged forth swiftly from the sand!

In the next moment, a huge grayish-yellow lizard the size of a normal adult man leaped up from the ground to stand in front of Kant. Its scales could be seen clearly on its body.

It charged into the mercenaries' formation, bit down on Kant's arm, and flung him in a circle, causing the Northlander to cry out in pain.

Thales gritted his teeth and moved forward, thrusting his weapon into the strange beast's body, but it was deflected by its scales.

Kant swung his left arm while enduring his pain, attempting to shake off the lizard soldier's bite.

But this was his final act of effort.

Another orc seized the opportunity. Its heavy Han blade [1] drew a sharp, piercing whistle in the air and slashed across the left portion of Kant's chest.

Under the attack of the crudely made weapon, a very distinct gap even appeared on the Northlander's left armpit.

*Splash—*

Blood gushed into the air, dyeing Thales red while he was beside Kant.

"Aaahhh!!" Old Hammer swung his hammer in anger and sadness, knocking back the owner of the Han blade.

"No!" Dean roared fiercely. He kicked up the bonfire, and the burning firewood landed on the lizard soldier.

Quick Rope screamed shrilly, grabbing all the firewood on the ground and throwing it at the monster of the desert.

Eventually, the lizard soldier could not withstand the flames. It let go of Kant's arm and retreated into darkness.

But with half his body cut open, Kant only had the strength left to tremble. He fell into a lump on the ground and soon stopped moving.

"Ah!" Louisa's tears streamed down her face. She grabbed her longsword and pounced on her enemies again.

The lizard soldier's charge was disastrous. Dante's Greatsword had their formation disturbed.

Quite a number of beasts broke into their formation using that advantage. Without the aid of their flank, all the people sank into a difficult state where they were one against many. Thales alone found out he had to face off two orcs at the same time.

In the face of their incredible strength, he was practically in a hopeless situation. He had never stopped using the Sin of Hell's River, and with the Northland Military Sword Style, he avoided their attacks at the nick of time and also deflected their attacks. Only then did he barely manage to block that terrifying power.

The battle situation was swiftly going against their favor.

The prince attacked and defended himself under the threat of a axe and greatsword. His shield moaned, as if it was about to shatter in the next moment.

*Thud!* A loud bang shot up. Quick Rope flew several meters away before he fell to the ground, completely unconscious.

'Oh no.'

Thales bit down on his dry and chapped lips. The hope in his heart was chipped away bit by bit.

The sounds of battle grew dimmer.

The merchant group had completely fallen silent. The only people still fighting among Dante's Greatsword were Dean, Louisa, and Old Hammer.

Mickey, who went to look for horses, had long since disappeared into the enemy crowd.

"Persevere!" Louisa's voice penetrated through the encirclement and traveled into his ears. It sounded as if the situation was very bad, but she was still doing her best to motivate them. "Believe in Mickey! He's a Barren Bone man, a beloved child of the desert!"

'Persevere? Believe?'

Thales took a step back and avoided another fatal sword slash in a very disheveled manner.

'Believe in what?'

He breathed in pain. The sword and shield in his hands had started trembling due to being struck multiple times.

Through the use of the senses granted to him by the Sin of Hell's River, the teenager could sense that the orcs around him had increased in number. Most of them had weapons in their hands, and they were waiting beyond the encirclement quietly. Perhaps when there was an empty spot, they would immediately rush forth to replace their comrade, and perhaps they were also waiting for their comrades' victory in a bout of arrogance.

As he stared at the increasing number of enemies all around him, Thales began to believe that his luck had perhaps ended.

He knew that his opponents were too strong, be it in terms of their numbers or their power. Thales and the others practically had no chance.

He could only fight based on the instinct of never giving up, honed over the years he lived.

The Sin of Hell's River seemed to have reached its limit.

*Bang!* Not too far away, the sound of something being dealt a heavy blow shot up. Old Hammer fell to the ground in pain.

'Damn it.'

Thales sighed in his heart, then tumbled on the ground laboriously, only to find that he had rolled himself to an orc's feet.

His heart froze.

'It's it. That blue-faced orc.'

It lowered its head, and its face was as ferocious as ever.

In the next second, the spiked mace came charging to the ground!

*Bang!*

Thales threw his shield away. While dragging his hurting and sore body, he avoided that attack in an incredibly pathetic manner.

Golden sand flew into the air, blinding eyes.

Thales persevered, even though he could no longer keep his mind in focus.

He knew that to humans, one attack from these orcs could take their lives.

As for using the Sin of Hell's River to increase the chances of survival?

Come on now. Under this sort of intense battles, Black Sword's talk about not dying even though he was about to die would not happen.

There would also be no chance where he could bleed and he could activate his mystic power.

Once he was hit, he would immediately know whether the ferryman in Hell's River was just a legend.

Thales struggled up in great difficulty, but before he could gain his footing, a machete struck his sword.

*Clang!*

Under the powerful blow and since he was not steady on his feet, Thales did not manage to withstand the blow. His longsword fell off is hand and landed on the ground again.

His weapon crashed on the sand and let out a muffled sound.

'It's over.'

Thales trembled and could only feel a sharp pain in his arm.

'Compared to the spars against Jines and Wya, and even the fights against Nicholas and Monty... battles of this degree...'

He flipped over in great difficulty, and could only see that blue-faced orc in armor approaching him.

It revealed ferocious fangs against the prince, then slowly lifted its spiked mace.

"Freuca," the orc said coldly.

'Damn it.'

Thales felt his consciousness fade a little.

'Freuca... what exactly does it mean? Did I ever learn it during my classes in Dragon Clouds City?'

Dean and Louisa's furious shouts still echoed in his ears.

Thales panted with great difficulty and touched the area around him, trying to find anything that could allow himself to draw blood.

But he failed.

In the next second, the spiked mace fell swiftly!

Thales closed his eyes.

'Little Rascal, remember to learn orc language properly, okay? Or else, you won't even know why you died...'

At that moment.

*Thud!*

There came the sound of steel crashing against each other.

As sand flew and chaotic gusts of wind blew, Thales felt cold sweat break on his skin!

He opened his eyes swiftly.

The enemy's weapon missed. It landed just one inch beside his head.

Thales' heart had yet to calm down. He stared at the scene before him in a daze.

An incredibly thick, shark iron fork was stuck between the spikes of the spiked mace. It was the one that knocked off the mace's trajectory.

And that iron fork was connected to an even thicker, palmless wrist. The fork had been forged straight into bone.

The blue-faced orc who had been prevented from killing looked incredibly displeased. It turned towards the owner of the iron fork—the owner of the arm whose hand had been sliced off cleanly.

"Nazair!"

The orc roared madly. Even the blue paint on its face contorted.

It was incredibly agitated while it pointed at the fallen Thales. "Sel, freuca!"

But the owner of the iron fork simply shook its head slowly. The right arm, connected with the iron fork, still held off the spiked mace and did not let loose of its strength even in the slightest bit.

The owner said an unfamiliar word with a deep voice.

"Solnoir."

Thales watched their exchange with a dumbfounded expression.

"Solnoir." The owner of the iron-fork arm repeated calmly. "Solnoir, saattsel."

The blue-faced orc seemed very angry. Its breathing grew more ragged, and its gray skin rippled slightly.

But the owner of the iron fork seemed to be of extraordinary status. A few seconds later, the blue-faced orc roared and reluctantly put away his weapon. It threw Thales a fierce glare, and its narrow eyes were filled with hatred.

Thales laid on the ground, stiff. He only felt that he was about to lose control over his overused body.

The blue-faced orc raised his head and roared to the others around it. "Naq! Kandarl!"

In the next moment, as if they had received an order, all the orcs put down their weapons, regardless of whether they were previously engaged in a fight, and they took a step backwards.

Even that lizard soldier was bound using ropes by two orcs and restrained.

The orcs spread out, revealing Louisa, who was panting harshly while leaning against her sword and surrounded, and also Dean, whom Louisa supported.

They also revealed the owner of the iron fork.

Thales could see it clearly now.

This was another orc, and a special orc to boot.

The armored blue-faced orc could already be considered to be big, but this orc was even larger than the former. It was practically the height of two adult men, but this was not its greatest characteristic.

It was its skin.

The orc's skin was pure black, and was much darker than its companions around it.

There were a pile of thick, snow-white pelts on its shoulders, and it looked like it came from some creature. Hidden under the pelt was black metal armor. Clearly, its status was incredibly high.

There were three parallel, ferocious looking scars on its forehead. They stretched to its nose bridge, and they looked like claw marks. Its lips were faint gray, and it had more fur on its head.

Thales frowned.

'Its... the leader?'

But the remaining mercenaries cried out in surprise.

In the next second, the pure black orc leader curled its black lips and raised its thick left arm. Its hand held onto a human hostage's neck tightly, and he simply allowed him to struggle in vain while he was in its grip.

"No, no." Louisa's voice quivered slightly due to her tears. "No."

Dean sighed. "Mickey."

While he had his throat seized, Mickey shuddered. His eyes were unfocused, and his hands held on to the unique orc's huge arm limply. He could not fight back at all.

Thales shook his head in despair.

'It's over.'

The orc let out a sound similar to laughter. It threw the weakened Mickey on the ground, then lifted its cut wrist and directed the iron fork at the remaining mercenaries.

In the next moment, the pure black orc spoke slowly.

And it caused Thales and the two mercenaries to turn pale with fright, because what came out of the orc's lips was the common language of the Western Peninsula, spoken fluently and with the accent of those in the desert.

"Humans." The orc's deep voice seemed to even make sand tremble. "You fought bravely. You took away the souls of four of our brave men from our tribe. You also won our respect."

Louisa widened her eyes in shock. As for Dean, he frowned.

There were dozens of orcs around them. When they stood together, they formed a dense, black layer. They held weapons in their hands while they stared at the mercenaries with killing intent rolling off them, but they kept silent and held their breaths. No one made a sound.

"Hence, with our pride as members of Shattered Stone Tribe, as long as you surrender to us, your comrades, including this solnoir..." It kicked Thales, who was beside its feet, and said in a solemn and stern manner, "Will be able to continue living."

Thales moved slightly.

He remembered now.

The pure black orc had used one word: Solnoir.

In his classes in Dragon Clouds City, he learned that the glacial orcs had a similar word, but the pitch and suffix was quite different: Solnar.

The meaning was... a young cub.

Translator's Note:

1. Han blade: A weapon from China, the ancestor of all Chinese swords used for war.