Xhosa was in a good mood.

At this time, he was holding a roasted squeaky and oily leg of lamb and gnawing at it. The excited subordinates were eating the fat and tender lamb around the campfire. In a happy mood, some orcs even sang loudly.

The rough song drew bursts of cheers.

Robbery, getting something for nothing, killing, and blood. These words are like stimulants to the orcs. Instead of making them feel any guilt, they will completely stimulate the cruelty and violence in their bones. Just like at this moment, after the complete slaughter of the Cree Village

, what the orcs want to do most is to gather around the campfire, eat and drink, and sing praises to their ancestors for their "merits" today, to prove that they have not embarrassed those ancestors who slaughtered humans.

"Cheers! For Lord Sarota!"

Shouting slogans, the orcs held up bone wine glasses, but what they drank was the wine plundered from the Kree village.

For orcs, they have never tasted anything like "wine". Although they find it unpleasant to drink, everything used and eaten by humans is always "high-end and classy" in their eyes. So even if they don't like it,

, they still swallowed it hard, and what they were thinking about was how to brag about this experience to other orcs when they returned to the tribe.

The poverty of spirit and culture makes their inner world always so desolate, and even the so-called "vanity" becomes so ridiculous.

The purpose of the looting at this time was not to bring any resources to the tribe. In the final analysis, their biggest purpose of appearing here was to kill and intimidate.

They slaughtered a village without any luggage and emptied the resources of that village. When they had the strength, they massacred the next village, making human beings tremble, tremble, and fear under such behavior... As for the possible resistance of human beings

, they took a completely indifferent attitude,

In the eyes of Xhosa and other orcs, unless a large-scale army of lords encircles and suppresses them, cowardly humans will always tremble in front of them. Just like the scouts they encountered today, they are just a group of scum with no fighting ability.

Not worth mentioning.

"Xhosa! Where shall we go tomorrow?"

Except for the witch doctors and chiefs who use honorifics, the orcs always address each other by their first names. At this time, the subordinates in front of the campfire asked Xhosa loudly, and the wolf cavalry next to them also used their expectant names.

His eyes looked over.

"Lord Sarota wants us to establish a stronghold here, and then attack to the southeast. Have a good rest today, and head south tomorrow. Kill every village we see! Everything we can grab belongs to us!"

"Hail! To the Hammer of Rohar! Cheers!"

"Kill all humans! Cheers!"

There was a cheer in the camp.

This scene lasted for a long time. After eating wildly for several hours, the orcs who had drank all the wine staggered back to the tent one by one. Xhosa, however, drank a lot, and was still conscious at this time - he stepped forward.

He returned to the tent with slightly wavy steps, and when he lifted the curtain, he still didn't forget to turn around and tell his subordinates to go on patrol:

"Go. Go and take good care of the wargs. Don't feed them too much meat. Pay attention to vigilance. The patrol team will be doubled at night. Do you hear that?"

He said before that he would kill those humans, but in fact, Xhosa still had some fear in his heart. Although the wound on his back from the human sword was almost healed, the shadow that followed was always lingering.

So much so that at night, he paid special attention to the issue of patrol posts.

After stressing it several times to make sure that the subordinates in front of him understood it, he waved his hand and entered the tent and fell asleep.

The orc who was assigned the task yawned, and in a daze he woke up a few of his companions to go watch the night, while he prepared to feed the wargs. It was already completely dark at this time,

By the light of the campfire, he tried his best to squint his eyes to identify the scene in front of him, and walked unsteadily towards the edge of the camp.

More than forty wargs are taking a nap outside the camp at this time. This is a major feature of the orc camp - if there is no animal pen, the wolves will gather outside the camp, because the wargs with the habit of living in groups can only live in this situation.

You can fall asleep peacefully and regain your strength quickly.

These wargs are huge, and outsiders only think that they are as ferocious as tigers, but only the orcs themselves know that the temperament of wargs is completely different from what others imagine.

As an unruly species, "wolves" themselves are actually extremely difficult to tame. On the grasslands, wolves are often cruel, cunning and aggressive beings. But wargs are far from that - orcs are too heavy, resulting in

The prairie ponies could not carry them, so over hundreds of years the originally violent "wargs" were bred through crossbreeding to become what they are today: meat-eaters, but gentle temperaments and extremely low IQs. They have hornets in their mouths.

They have teeth, but they will not take the initiative to hunt at all. On the battlefield, wargs charge seemingly bravely, and are not even afraid of directly hitting the enemy. In fact, it is entirely because their brains are too stupid to pay attention to orders other than their masters... In order to train the wolf cavalry

Their sense of obedience has suppressed their desire to attack since childhood, so by the time they reach adulthood, apart from eating meat, these guys are not much different from cattle and sheep in character.

In the history that belongs to the other end of time and space, these data were gradually summarized by humans two years after the outbreak of the war in 592. Before that, no one would have thought that wargs were not much different from sheep, and even had strong temperament.

Not as good as a dog.

In fact, if you think about such things carefully, you can already find some clues - if wargs can bark and warn at the slightest disturbance like dogs or wolves, how can those orcs who are almost blind at night need to allocate many people to keep watch?

?I’m afraid everyone has gone to sleep peacefully.

Therefore, the "asymmetry" of information can greatly influence a war. Sometimes a seemingly disparate situation can be completely reshaped by such an inconspicuous detail.

It was approximately 11 o'clock in the evening, and the orc camp gradually became quiet. The orc who woke his companions to keep vigil was walking on the edge of the camp, swaying and humming an off-key song. He held a scimitar in one hand.

The other hand was dragging an invisible object.

If you look closer, you can see that what he is carrying is a half-human corpse.

Because wargs eat meat, the cost of the "Wolf Cavalry" unit is much higher than that of light cavalry. Feeding these wargs every day is a huge expense. Obviously what the orc has to do at this time is to use

Human corpses are fed to wolves.

It sounds cruel, but the orcs think this is normal.

He walked up to more than forty wargs lying down, and without raising his head, he waved his scimitar and started to cut into pieces, and then threw the pieces of meat piece by piece into the pile of wargs gathered together. The stupid wargs began

Fighting for food, due to long-term training, they did not get close to the feeding orcs. If there was something they couldn't grab, they would just wait there helplessly.

This kind of thing is done every day. The orc who was dismembering the corpse felt that he could continue even if he closed his eyes. However, just when he yawned again and thought about going back to sleep as soon as possible, undisguised footsteps suddenly sounded in his ears.

Voice.

"Hey, want to help?"

The standard Sabine question immediately dispelled the doubts that had just arisen in his mind - obviously, he never expected that humans would appear in a place like this.

Turning his head, he couldn't see the other person's figure clearly in the darkness, but he naturally regarded the speaker as his companion, and responded casually: "No, no, Xhosa asked me to feed the wolves, I...uh--I

You have to do it yourself.”

After burping, he opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say hello and then ask who the other party was, but unexpectedly he heard a slightly indifferent answer from the other party:

"Feed the wolf? Oh, you do have to feed the wolf."

"puff--"

The sound of the blade cutting through the air was inaudible. When the head soared into the sky, blood spattered on the grass, and then the headless corpse slumped to the ground. But when this scene happened, the head was immersed in fighting for food.

The wargs didn't even raise their heads.

Roddy raised his head, his gaze lingered on the half-human corpse next to him for a moment, his eyes narrowed - the hand holding the scimitar tightened slightly, he bent down and exhaled softly, as if he wanted to reach out and touch the corpse.

, but finally stopped, turned his head, reached out and dragged the headless orc corpse towards the distance step by step.

His steps were very calm, as if the more than forty wargs around him were just a group of pigs competing for feed, and the corpse he was holding was just a bag of rice.

Every ten meters or so, he stopped, raised his knife to chop off a certain part of the orc's body - either an arm or a calf - and threw it behind him, attracting the wargs who only cared about eating meat to follow him.

Away from the snoring orc camp...

"Little Sloppy, really sloppy, he is the King of Sloppy, everyone calls him Little Sloppy..."

A song that was completely different from the orc's just sounded on the grassland. In the dark night, it seemed strange and empty.

After walking nearly a hundred meters, the orc he was dragging in his hand was basically just a shapeless piece of meat.

Is it disgusting? Disgusting.

Before this, Roddy had never thought that he could do such a thing in reality. If he said it was not disgusting, it would be a lie... But when he thought of the half corpse that the orcs used to feed the wolves, he felt in his heart.

Anger made him suppress this disgust.

Roddy was very angry.

There is a saying that "anger" is essentially anger at one's own incompetence - and now Roddy can only admit that he is really like this.

The tragedy in Keri Village was traced back to the fact that it was caused by himself. He had clearly thought about this possibility, but due to some luck, he never expected it to actually happen - to outsiders, this seemed to be the same as

Roddy really has nothing to do with it, but the regret and self-blame in Roddy's heart at this time may not be noticed by Luger, Carter and others, and they cannot understand it at all.

The result of being angry is to get angry and then find a way to vent. But when the scimitar chopped up the corpses of the orcs again and again, Roddy clearly understood that even if he killed all the orcs this time, the dead villagers... would not be able to be resurrected.

.

"After all, this is no longer a game."

The sigh in the darkness is somewhat inexplicably depressing.

The corpse in the orc's hand just now should be that of a child. It looked like he was only seven or eight years old - when he was at this age, the world was beautiful, everything he saw should be full of hope, and he had his own

ideal, and my heart is full of longing.

But for the child who couldn't even find his lower body, all this was empty talk.

Throwing away the last body parts in his hands with some disgust, when Roddy stopped, the wargs were already hundreds of meters away from the camp. Several patrolling figures in the distance were turning around from the side of the camp.

.
Chapter completed!