"Hurry! Quick, move!"
"By Father God Guosh, how could those Imperial people possess such weapons!"
"No wonder the High Mountain Kingdom fell to them! With just these low-level Beastmen, how could we possibly reclaim Aivendel?"
Staring at the earth covered in thick smoke and flames in the distance, the Orcs looked terrified, abandoning their supplies as they fled hurriedly northward once again.
Fortunately, the camps of these pure-blood Orcs were all located far behind the battlefield, requiring only a retreat of a dozen leagues to reach their homeland—the Wuge Prairie.
Solo rode atop a Wildland Dragon Beast, turning his head to gaze at the war-torn battlefield. Reflected in his eyes were flickering flames, but deep in his pupils burned profound hatred.
At this point, Solo's grand ambition of capturing Aivendel, leading the Orcs to conquer the Fianso Continent, had utterly dissolved into a mirage.
