CHAPTER 33: CHAPTER 33 – BATTLE OF THE EXTRAORDINARY LEGIONS (PART 1)

In the first month of the new year, during the bitterly cold season of swirling snow, the orcs of the Northern Wastes could no longer hold out.

The bone-chilling cold needed to be driven away by the burning heat of blood, and their gnawing hunger made the orcs desperate to devour the southern humans’ grain stores immediately.

And so, under the leadership of the Black Ram Clan, a vast wave of orcs surged into the Northern Wind Province.

"Seize all their food!"

"I’m starving to death—I want meat, I want that fragrant barley!"

Amidst the chaos, countless orcs charged into the warmer territories, wreaking havoc like a whirlwind through lands where chickens flew and dogs jumped in panic.

"Damn beasts! Soldiers, raise your swords—charge!"

A noble roared atop his warhorse, ordering his soldiers and slaves to charge the orcs.

Terror filled his eyes—he hadn’t expected the orcs to arrive so soon. Based on past experience, they shouldn’t have come until at least half a month after their food had completely run out.

"Damn it, I should’ve listened and arranged the property relocation earlier!"

No sooner had the noble finished speaking than he heard the retreating cries of his soldiers—shockingly, the order to fall back was coming from his own knight attendant.

"Retreat! Fall back!"

"Everyone, withdraw to the fortress defenses!"

Panic spread from atop the warhorses, and soon the noble saw his own vassals casting fearful glances back at him.

"Costa, what are you doing? That’s my

fortress—what are you trying to do? I’ll have your heads on spikes for this!"

The noble bellowed, but none of the soldiers or slaves dared to bypass the baron to rush to the luxurious fortress.

"Lord Berna, flee! There are too many orcs!"

"Can’t even count them—they’re at least ten thousand strong!"

Costa galloped to Baron Berna’s side, his voice trembling with fear.

"We can’t beat them, my lord. We’ve only got a few hundred men. The orcs are endless."

Only now did Baron Berna finally see the dark tide in the distance. His face went pale.

"Quick—retreat to the fortress and hold it to the death!"

The noble trembled all over. He had never seen so many charging monsters—each one baring fangs and claws, twisted and terrifying, as if ready to devour his entire barony like bread.

But his command came too late.

The soldiers fled. The slaves fled. No one stood to block the orc charge. In that brief moment of hesitation, the nearest Black Ram orc had already smashed into the human ranks.

"Kill all the humans—everything belongs to us!"

A Black Ram orc bellowed, impaling a human through the heart in one swift motion.

The warm blood flowing over the orc’s body only made them more frenzied—their eyes now burned with nothing but pure bloodlust.

"Kill them all!"

The Black Ram orc’s horns shimmered with a dark glow—they possessed a supernatural system of their own.

Their hooved hands gripped twin scimitars, weapons that looked as if they had been taken from the severed heads of other Black Ram warriors.

In an instant, human lands were consumed by screams, howls, despair, and a frenzy of blood.

Tens of thousands of orcs flooded this territory in the blink of an eye, beginning their uniquely brutal form of plundering.

Hánshān County, as the nearest county below the Xiangshan Plains, faced a life-and-death crisis. The nobles there had already gone all out to set up a defensive line after receiving news of the orc incursion.

With that news came word of noble deaths.

"The entire Berna Barony is gone. Everyone is dead—including the baron. Not one survived."

"Not just Baron Berna—Knight Yannis, Knight Sack—their knightdoms were all overwhelmed by the orcs."

The defensive line of Hánshān County was essentially formed by Cold Mountain City and several mid-mountain fortresses among the year-round glacial peaks. Over 80% of the county’s lords had already moved their wealth into the city, bringing their families along.

But war is not a game—it is true life and death. Even with strongholds and cities that were easy to defend and hard to attack, the nobles could not find peace of mind.

"Viscount Landa, the orcs are almost here. Do you have a plan? Are we just going to wait like this?"

Many nobles instinctively looked toward Viscount Landa at the center of the crowd. He was the governor of Hánshān County—and the only viscount here.

"We..."

"We’re not going out."

Viscount Landa was also extremely nervous. He looked out at the distant sky, where orcs were already visible, and didn’t dare make the first move.

"We only have fifty thousand soldiers. We can only defend the line. The orcs can’t all be crowding into Hánshān County."

That night, as the nobles slept, the howls of orcs echoed outside the city.

Terrified nobles were jolted awake and rushed to Viscount Landa’s estate in panic, hastily dressing on the way.

Viscount Landa, with a helpless expression, said:

"Only two or three thousand orcs attacked. They couldn’t even reach the walls before being wiped out by our cavalry."

"So... it’s over?"

One noble asked uncertainly.

"It’s over."

But at dawn the next morning, the nobles who climbed the city walls saw a vast sea of orcs.

At the very center was a massive army of Black Ram warriors, mounted on mighty black rams—their war mounts.

"Cavalry!? How do the Black Ram orcs have cavalry?!"

A noble from a centuries-old family in the Northern Wind Province shouted in terror, eyes full of despair.

"Years ago... it was because of Black Ram cavalry that the Northern Wind Province suffered devastating losses!"

"But back then, they only had five thousand cavalry."

Viscount Landa’s face darkened as he stared out at the army. No matter how he looked, the Black Ram cavalry before him didn’t seem to be fewer than five thousand.

"We’re doomed..."

A noble scrambled down from the wall and rushed back to his manor—he wanted to flee, to run south.

Just as panic spread and nobles sought to escape, the orc army outside Cold Mountain City suddenly split into two forces—one heading east, one west.

Only around 7,000–8,000 Black Ram cavalry and 50,000 Black Ram warriors remained behind.

They stood in a dense, black mass—even their eyes were pitch-dark—filling the soldiers within the city with overwhelming fear.

"They’re not planning to attack us?"

A knight asked curiously. These Black Ram orcs didn’t seem to share the brainless charge instinct of other orcs.

"Where are the others going?"

Some were confused as to why the rest of the orcs abandoned Cold Mountain City.

Suddenly, a noble began trembling all over. He pointed at the departing orc armies.

"They’re—they’re heading for our fiefs."

Inside the Hánshān County defensive line, many barons and frontier knights had territories. Though they had brought their soldiers and wealth to the safer city, their fiefs, of course, couldn’t run.

And they hadn’t been able to bring along all their serfs and family. After all, even nobles had extended families. These relatives helped manage their large estates.

While the nobles sought refuge in the city, those left behind had to resist the orc harassment and plundering with a few soldiers and slaves.

If they didn’t hold out, their lands would be lost even after the orcs left.