CHAPTER 955: IT MEANS THEY ARE AFRAID

Hssssss!

The sound came from a cave spider. It had caught a satyr warrior, its silk wrapping tightly around the struggling creature. The more the satyr fought, the tighter the strands became.

A moment later, the cave spider injected its venom into the satyr’s body, paralyzing it.

In truth, the venom did more than paralyze; it began to dissolve the victim’s flesh and blood. After a moment, the spider plunged its sharp mouthparts into the satyr’s head and began to suck the liquified insides dry, one mouthful at a time.

Within fifteen minutes, the satyr was nothing but an empty husk.

After its meal, the cave spider circled the husk twice, then abandoned the useless shell and moved on, searching for its next prey.

"Does this disgust you, Lady Saelen?"

Delilah and Saelen had watched the entire feeding from the rear. Delilah smiled, tilting her head as she studied the blood elf who had been assigned to protect her.

For this war, King Harold of the human kingdom was leading the charge personally. With his power, popularity, and status, he was the natural supreme commander, controlling the overall strategy.

Delilah had been assigned back to the stoneheart horde’s cave spider armies to manage their section of the front. The archer Saelen had been posted with them as well, filling their need for a Legendary-level ranged DPS turret. In exchange, the stoneheart horde’s ogre lord, Aldous, had been transferred to the front lines. With the Abyssal Dragon protecting Lorelia, Aldous’s role had become somewhat redundant. King Harold’s troop arrangements were, in fact, quite logical.

"No," the archer Saelen said, shaking her head. This wasn’t her first time seeing the cave spiders. She had been on the battlefield during the last North-South war and had witnessed the stoneheart horde’s spider armies in action.

Back then, they had suffered heavy casualties. Their numbers were smaller then, their bodies not so large. Of course, the sight of them feeding was still undeniably chilling.

"We blood elves respect the natural habits of every race," she explained calmly. "We do not shy away from the reality of slaughter. We believe that if something exists, it has a reason and a right to exist."

It was a philosophy the blood elves had learned from millennia of living in harmony with nature.

"I’m glad to hear that," Delilah said, her smile genuine now. "These little ones are actually quite cute, you know. Their courage is every bit as fierce as an ordinary bloodline warrior’s. On the battlefield, they are the most trustworthy companions you could ask for."

Delilah spoke from the heart. From the very first dark beast tides, Lorelia’s cave spiders had fought alongside the stoneheart horde, protecting the bloodline warriors of every race. It was no exaggeration to say that without them, the horde’s warriors would have been wiped out long ago.

Back home, people might whisper behind their hands that Lorelia was wasteful or timid. But it wasn’t true dislike. It was the tough love of a family, frustrated with a child who wouldn’t live up to their immense potential. Even with that frustration, they would all willingly give up their share of the spoils after every victory to support Lorelia and her spiders.

Only the warriors who had been on the battlefield knew just how dependable the spiders were, and how many had died protecting them. To the soldiers of the stoneheart horde, the cave spiders were, unironically, their "little sweethearts."

"On that, I have no doubt," Saelen said. Though she had reached the Legendary level, she was humble, completely lacking the arrogance or coldness often associated with her rank.

"Lady Saelen, I think I know why you were chosen by King Rommath," Delilah said warmly.

Saelen had spent time in Stoneheart City and had been one of the blood elf race’s liaisons there, so Delilah knew her well. It was why they could speak so freely. Ever since Lycanor had married outside the race, Saelen’s promotion to lord made her the most likely candidate to be the new blood elf queen.

At the mention of the blood elf king, the esteemed Rommath, a faint blush colored Saelen’s cheeks.

"Hee hee..." Delilah giggled. "It seems the feeling is mutual."

.....

Far away, deep within the former territory of the Dwarven Tribe.

"The human kingdom is shameless!"

"They’ve allied with the stoneheart horde, the dragons, and the blood elves! The Five-Race Alliance army is already pushing north! What do we do?"

"We can’t just let them beat us back! They have an alliance, but so do we! We won’t surrender easily!"

"Commander, please, tell us what to do!"

"Yes, Commander! Do we fight or do we negotiate?"

"We’ll follow your lead, Commander! Everyone will follow your command!"

Torin scanned the faces of the assembled lords in his command tent. Including him, there were twelve of them.

Twelve lords. If every single one of them was truly and sincerely loyal to him, he’d have the confidence not just to fight back the Five-Race Alliance, but to conquer the entire continent and even invade other worlds.

Unfortunately, every lord in this tent was a two-faced bastard. They said one thing and did another, showing him no real respect. Even the smoother operators who tried to curry favor with him were the kind of opportunists who wouldn’t lift a finger unless they saw a clear profit.

For this pack of vultures, Torin had only one word in his heart.

Tools.

"Ahem. Gentlemen!" Torin cleared his throat. His deep voice cut through the clamor, silencing the tent.

"Gentlemen, if we want to claim the south, the dwarven Tribe’s territory alone is not nearly enough to divide among us," he began. "Therefore, we must invade the human kingdom. They are smart. They sense our ambition, and they feel threatened. The fact that the human kingdom brought in the stoneheart horde, the dragons, and the blood elves means one thing."

Torin paused, looking each lord in the eye before delivering his point.

"It means they are afraid of us."

"Gentlemen, they are afraid. Do you know what that means?" His voice rose, filled with a charismatic fire. "It means we are strong! It means we have the power to shatter the stalemate in the south! It means we have a chance to take it all!"

At that moment, he looked every bit the supreme commander, directing the fate of nations.

"Look around you! Together, we are twelve lords! I ask you, which of the great factions in the south can boast such a lineup? We are this powerful, so why shouldn’t we fight for a piece of this continent?"

He had learned a valuable lesson since rising to power: after analyzing the situation, you had to rally, and if necessary, delude your allies.

"We are both alliances, but our armies are more numerous than theirs. And our high-level power is not lacking either! They have an arch lord Saint, but we... we have the supreme commander of the Avenger armies."

This was the biggest card Torin had to play. As long as their commander—the clown, Ogu—was in the game, these lords wouldn’t lose hope entirely.