Fantasy Lord: Starting with Daily Information

Chapter 102: The Orcs' Scheme

The battle intensified, with a large number of orcs gathering at the borders of the Northern Province. Their numbers far exceeded those seen in previous assaults. Both the Earth Dragon Knights and the Flying Eagle Knights found their defensive lines teetering on the brink.

Yet, it was only on the brink.

Though the gathering of orcs was immense, it wasn’t enough to truly break the defenses. The Earth Dragon Knights and Flying Eagle Knights were under enormous pressure but held their positions.

This pressure, however, allowed several orc tribes to slip past the lines of both knight orders, infiltrating the Northern Province. It wasn’t just the Tulip Kingdom that was affected; neighboring kingdoms faced the same crisis. The entire northern region was plunged into turmoil.

Ten days later, the stronghold saw reinforcements arrive. One of the three grand dukes of the kingdom, Duke Karenina, personally led her knights to the front, along with a powerful marquis of the kingdom. The arrival of a Sky Knight and dozens of Earth Knights immediately stabilized the shaky defenses.

But stabilization was all they achieved. Soon, more orcs pressed forward, even including two fourth-tier orc tribes. The situation seemed to return to a precarious balance.

“Boom!”

Explosions echoed as magical crystal cannons poured out energy. In the skies, two figures clashed repeatedly, while below, dozens of people engaged in fierce combat.

"Marquis Raymond, have these creatures gone mad? Without a Behemoth, they dare invade human lands?" one marquis exclaimed, retreating to the stronghold, panting alongside a weary Marquis Raymond.

After weeks of fighting, including a skirmish with a fourth-tier orc, Marquis Raymond was severely wounded.

"Faerun, we should focus on how to handle this situation!" Lehman sighed. "These creatures are not so easy to deal with."

“Damn it!” Marquis Faerun cursed under his breath and charged back into the fray, with Marquis Raymond following closely behind.

In the sky, Duke Karenina alone fended off three fourth-tier orcs. Her power was immense, and though outnumbered, she was only being suppressed, not defeated.

Farther away, the Earth Dragon Knights also faced an overwhelming situation. In the skies, two human figures battled against five fourth-tier orcs, while below, thousands of orc tribes continuously attacked the defensive lines. The slaughter was relentless.

A similar scene unfolded in the northern region of another kingdom. Large numbers of orcs, appearing almost crazed, kept assaulting the northern defenses. Outside the defensive lines, numerous low-level orc tribes (first- and second-tier) poured into human territories, clashing with the pioneer knights.

Orc tribes were being annihilated, but human lands were also falling, their provinces soaked in blood. In many areas, blood flowed like rivers. Yet, no one had the luxury to care about such things, as all attention was focused on the battles at the borders. Every kingdom was tense and anxious.

However, amidst this anxiety, there was a small sense of relief. No fifth-tier orc tribes had joined the battle, meaning this was not an all-out war. It was merely an orc assault, albeit a large one. As long as it wasn’t a full-scale war, the impact could be contained.

The kingdoms, especially those bordering the northern orcs, had their own strengths and would not fall so easily. They had withstood worse before.

What none of them knew, however, was that this wasn’t an ordinary orc assault.

In the heart of the orc tribes, large tents were scattered across the landscape, and colossal Behemoths gathered—the true uncrowned kings of the orcs. In theory, all orc tribes answered to the call of the Behemoths, the only seventh-tier tribe among the orcs, whose strength surpassed all others.

In a large central tent, several massive Behemoths gathered.

"Rok, what is happening? We haven’t declared war," boomed a rough voice. The crowned Behemoth at the head of the table looked toward a Behemoth on the left.

"I'm not sure," said the Behemoth named Rok, shaking his head. "But it seems someone has discovered the land of the Titan God's inheritance in the northern human lands."

"The Titan God's inheritance? Impossible! The Titan God fell long ago, and we, the Behemoth clan, have always guarded his resting place," another Behemoth scoffed. "This must be some scheme by those sly werewolves. It’s none of our concern. In a year, the great Titan God’s spirit will awaken again. We must prepare, and hopefully, more Behemoths will be born this time."

"The Titan God's power grows weaker," the Behemoth leader said worriedly, shaking his head.

"Yes!" the Behemoths responded in unison. To them, the awakening ceremony of the Titan God was the most important thing. Other matters, like the so-called Titan God's inheritance, were irrelevant.

However, because of their indifference, chaos continued to spread across the orc territories.

With no Behemoth interference, many orc tribes grew emboldened, seeing opportunities. Meanwhile, in the shadowy northern caverns, eerie green lights flickered. This was the gathering place of the werewolf clan, specifically the fourth-tier bloodthirsty werewolves.

Unlike the regular third-tier werewolves, bloodthirsty werewolves were much more intelligent, their cunning matching that of humans. No orc tribe liked dealing with them, for their reputation for deceit and treachery was well-known.

In the cavern’s center, a massive altar glowed, blood-red lines spreading across the ground. At the center, a bloodthirsty werewolf's eyes turned blood-red, and its gray fur slowly changed to the same crimson hue.

"More sacrifices!" the werewolf growled. "The Behemoths have no time to deal with us now. Send more orc tribes to the front. The great god Anubis demands more offerings!"

"Yes!" came the fervent response from the other werewolves, their eyes filled with fanaticism.

A year ago, they had stumbled upon the god’s fallen resting place in the northern lands and received divine enlightenment. All they needed was enough blood to summon their god.

The entire bloodthirsty werewolf clan had been in a frenzy ever since. This was their chance. If they could summon Anubis, they would rise and potentially replace the Behemoths as the new uncrowned kings of the orc tribes.

Thus, their plans, set in motion a year ago, were now nearing fruition. As the blood-red lines spread across the altar, the werewolves’ excitement grew.

In the dark caverns, more werewolves emerged, driving more orc tribes toward human lands. Although as a fourth-tier orc tribe they couldn’t command others directly, they used more cunning methods—temptation.

Strange parchments had begun circulating among the first- to fourth-tier orc tribes, containing not only a map to the so-called Titan God’s inheritance but also a secret method called “Divine Awakening.” This method promised to birth new members of their tribe as long as they had a human female, a lure that made orc tribes crazy with desire.

Though the offspring might be weaker and less intelligent, the prospect of increasing their numbers was irresistible to the orc tribes. Even the third- and fourth-tier tribes couldn't resist and rushed toward human lands without waiting for the Behemoths' orders.

As a result, the northern provinces of the kingdoms saw a surge in orc activity. The battles and incursions spread, even reaching the western territories, where even more regions turned into warzones.

For Thor, the increase in orc encounters was evident. Where once it had taken over ten days to run into an orc tribe, now only three days had passed, and he had already encountered two. Though they were only first- and second-tier tribes, the sheer numbers were alarming.

Thor’s unease grew, especially when he once again found several identical parchments from the orcs he fought. Holding the parchments, he muttered to himself, "What is this?"

Despite his efforts, Thor had been unable to decipher the Titan language. There wasn’t a single person in Loren City who could. He had even thought the map was a treasure map at first, but how could a treasure map exist in several identical copies?

Unable to make sense of it, Thor could only hope that his daily information reports would offer some clues.

Without the ability to translate the parchments, there was little he could do. Grabbing an orc for translation was pointless—they didn’t understand the Titan language either.

Shaking his head, Thor tucked the parchments away, rising to his feet. The battlefield had already been cleared. This time, they had encountered a tribe of goblins, their strength only at the second tier. Though not particularly strong, they had still managed to craft some finely-made weapons.

While not as advanced as those made by goblins, the weapons were comparable to those forged by human alchemists. Given the current rising demand for weapons and armor in the Northern Province, these weapons could easily fetch five or six hundred gold coins, if not more.

The price of armor had been skyrocketing, with even the lowest-quality black iron armor now selling for fifty silver coins, far above its original price.

At first, black iron armor only cost twenty to thirty silver coins. Even black iron armor made by goblins wouldn’t exceed fifty silver coins. But now, the price of the lowest quality black iron armor has reached fifty silver coins, and it continues to rise. And this is just black iron armor—bronze armor and silver armor prices have skyrocketed even more.

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