King
Chapter 1034 - 1034 140 Military Soul_3

1034: Chapter 140: Military Soul_3 1034: Chapter 140: Military Soul_3 “Before he could finish greeting, the Orc Leader was already dead.

This was the seventy-sixth victim on the battlefield.

Moving through the battlefield, Hudson was like the Grim Reaper’s scythe.

Any Orc that dared show their head was immediately harvested.

Each tribe fighting for itself had the great advantage of strong cohesion and utmost trust, but this required that the chieftain remained unscathed.

In most Orc tribes, the chieftain held the military and political power, with no deputy in place.

Only those next in rank to the chieftain, the Sacrifice Shamans, were respected more for their personal prestige than for their military command.

Any rational chieftain, for the sake of power balance, would never allow religious leaders to control the tribe’s military.

The smaller the tribe, the more obvious this was.

After all, in larger tribes with numerous Sacrifice Shamans, their influence was diluted.

Only the Chief High Priest posed a threat to the chieftain’s power, as ordinary Sacrifice Shamans were less guarded against.

Armies held together by the chieftain’s personal charisma often disbanded upon the chieftain’s death.

Realizing the Orcs’ weakness, Hudson fought with even greater fervor.

If it weren’t for the inappropriateness of his position, he would have even considered training some powerful Divine Archers specifically to target tribal chieftains.

One tribe after another fell, and the number of fleeing Orc soldiers on the battlefield increased at an unusually rapid rate.

The fleeing Orc soldiers did not cause much trouble for the Expeditionary Army, but instead served as the last straw breaking the Orc Army’s morale.

Bodies piled up on the vast plains, and blood spread across the grasslands, endlessly watering the earth.

The lingering light of the setting sun cast a somber glow over the world.

Seeing no reinforcements arriving, the overwhelmed Orc Cavalry, under the Expeditionary Army’s assault, continued to retreat.

‘Staggered cover, orderly retreat!’

It was unclear who issued the command, but upon hearing it, the Orc Soldiers, with retreat the only thought in their minds, turned and ran, regardless of how the commanders called, unable to draw them back to the battle.

Pandora’s Magic Box was opened, and nearby Orc Soldiers quickly followed suit.

The retreat rapidly turned into a rout.

‘Staggered cover, orderly retreat’ was purely idealistic.

Faced with death, no Orc wanted to die.

From the moment they chose to coast through the battle, it was a consensus among the tribes to preserve their strength.

In the face of life or death, no one wished to cover the rear.

It became a race of speed—if they could outrun their comrades, the enemy could not catch them.

The quicker reacting Orc Soldiers became the lucky ones of this war, quickly escaping the battlefield.

The slower Orcs were doomed.

By the time they decided to retreat, they unwittingly exposed their backs to the Expeditionary Army.

Chasing down fleeing soldiers and finishing off the defeated was always a favorite.

Even though they had undergone two battles today and covered miles, the fatigue couldn’t suppress everyone’s fervor.

Fueled by sheer determination, the Expedition Army Corps unleashed incomparable power, startling even Hudson, the Commander in Chief.

It was a frenzy of slaughter.

Defeating the enemy was expected, but to surge forth expanding victory after the enemy’s defeat was unexpected.

From the performance on the battlefield, it seemed the Expedition Army Corps had forged a military soul.

There were many strong armies in history, but very few could create a military soul.

Any army that spawned a military soul stood at the zenith of the era.

How to create a military soul was a question no one could answer.

Some armies forged it through continuous victories, directly ascending to a divine status; others developed it through relentless resilience in the face of defeat, finally achieving a comeback.

Every army that developed a military soul was unique and difficult to replicate.

Looking down at the battlefield, many fleeing Orc Soldiers laid down their lives for the ascension of the Expeditionary Army.

Slaughter, unrestrained slaughter.

Only as dusk began to fall did Hudson order the army to retreat.

By then, the battlefield was strewn with corpses.

Though no count was undertaken, based on the battlefield’s conditions, Hudson was certain that the Orc Army’s casualties were no less than thirty thousand.

In a cavalry battle, to be able to kill sixty percent of the enemy force was nothing short of miraculous.

Such achievements usually only occurred in deadlocks or when one side encircled the other.

After all, if they couldn’t defeat the enemy, could they not at least outrun their comrades?

Across the vast plains, the side with greater numbers could usually escape if they truly intended to flee.

…

Night fell, and Daniel finally received news from the Expedition Army Corps, albeit a bit too late.

Had he known the battlefield was less than a hundred miles away, he would have led his troops there to reinforce sooner, preventing the current tragedy.

Fifty thousand cavalry, defeated right before his eyes by the enemy.

The exact losses were momentarily unclear, but the surviving soldiers, each in a state of psychological collapse, clearly had faced severe trauma.

Even without being present on the battlefield, Daniel could imagine the grim intensity of the fight.

If not for the dimming weather making it difficult to pinpoint the enemy’s exact position, he would have immediately led his troops to seek revenge.

Deep within, his resentment towards the Hawkmen reached its limit.

Had it not been for their cowardly delays in delivering intelligence, they wouldn’t have been so passive.

With the morale of the fleeing soldiers completely gone, their combat effectiveness was practically nil.

This meant that, at least for the short term, he had lost the combat power of fifty thousand cavalry, even if they were just second-line, still a painful loss.

To go to such lengths, suffer losses, and yet achieve no substantial victory, Daniel felt utterly helpless, unsure how to explain to the various Emperors.

Pass the blame?

That was not his style.

Plus, other than him, the Commander in Chief, literally no one else could bear this burden.

‘Send orders to gather the five Legion Commanders for a meeting.’

”