Inside Abar's golden tent, the scout summoned trembled as he reported: " Great Chieftain, a large army has been spotted in the north! The banner is the crimson dragon flag of the Glyman Family!"
The red-hot branding iron slipped from Abar's hand. "Absurd!" he shouted as he hurried to the tent entrance, pointing at Stone Bridge Town. "Isn't the main force of Glaeman right there?"
The scout immediately knelt down, his forehead pressed to the ground: "It's true, we saw tens of thousands of soldiers..."
Abar's single eye contracted violently. He strode out of the golden tent and gazed far to the north.
He couldn't see anything at that moment, but if the scout was telling the truth...
" Great Chieftain, could it be the Aldo Royal Family's army coming to support Glaeman?" his beloved general Kalem wondered.
"This doesn't make sense…" Abar's rough fingers clenched tightly. "The royal army should come from the south! Why go through all the trouble of going north?"
Acosta, who had been terrified by the branding iron, suddenly brightened up and regained some of her senses.
He cried out, tears streaming down his face, "That army must be Glaeman's main force. They must have come from Laois. This is proof, Great Chieftain Abar, I did not lie to you!"
Abar was already upset, and Acosta's interruption only fueled his anger.
"Shut up!" he roared, kicking Acosta aside with such force that she passed out.
Actually, he had already guessed about 70-80% of it; Acosta was very likely wronged by him.
Their own army attacked the Northwest Legion's weak point, and it was clear that the main human force in Laois had received the news and immediately came to its aid.
But a huge sense of absurdity immediately arose in Abar's heart: he had personally led a large army, yet he was blocked by a small detachment of Glaeman's army in a small town, unable to advance an inch!
This is an absolute humiliation!
That's why Abar was so enraged after Acosta revealed the truth.
"Send the order!" he suddenly roared, "Cease the siege! The entire army must withdraw from Stone Bridge Town to regroup and prepare to meet the enemy coming from the north!"
The orc Great Chieftain slammed his battle axe into the ground. "I'll see where Glaeman conjured this army from!"
However, the orc army, bogged down in urban warfare, needs time to regroup.
Two knights from the Bradley family — Longfellow and Boyle —were summoned to Abar's tent.
Half of the human servants the orcs brought this time were commanded by the two of them, namely the Bradley Family's army.
When the two were summoned inside, the bloodstains on their armor were still wet, and Boyle's left arm was bandaged.
"How many men do you have left?" Abar asked bluntly.
Longfellow's Adam's apple bobbed: " Great Chieftain, we still have over three thousand men, but the arrows are already..."
"Enough!" Abar waved his hand. "I'll resupply you with enough weapons. Now you have a new mission!"
The Orcish Great Chieftain explained to them that an unfamiliar army was approaching from the north.
"Take your men to the road to the north, find a strategic location, and stall that army of unknown origin!"
Abar's eyes flashed with a dangerous light. "Hold on for at least four hours!"
Boyle couldn't help but step forward: " Great Chieftain, our soldiers just came down, they didn't even get a sip of hot soup. Look—"
"Urgent military situation!" Abar frowned deeply, revealing his gleaming white fangs. He approached slowly, the blade of his battle axe lightly resting on the crack in Boyle's shoulder armor.
"The enemy won't slow down just because you're tired. Don't worry, I'll come to your aid as soon as I'm ready!"
"I will obey your orders, Great Chieftain Abar." Longfellow pulled Boyle back from arguing. "We will set off immediately once we have enough arrows."
As they stepped out of the golden tent, the sun cast long shadows of the two men, much to their displeasure.
During the previous siege phase, Abar used them as cannon fodder, and now he is sending them to fight against an army of unknown strength.
But they dared not disobey the orders of the Great Chieftain of the orcs.
...
Earl Hal led the way, his Sentinel Legion's iron-grey cloak fluttering behind him, his black warhorse spitting white foam, its iron hooves kicking up clouds of dust as it pounded across the wilderness.
Sentinel Legion, which was nearly destroyed in the last Orcish invasion, was rebuilt in Northwest Bay. Because the legion had many skilled knights, the new Sentinel Legion was transformed into a cavalry force and equipped with short-barreled firearms developed specifically for cavalry.
When Paul ordered a march south to reinforce Stone Bridge Town, Duke volunteered to lead the vanguard of the army, and Paul granted his request.
"Maintain forward formation!" The count's voice pierced the thunder of hooves.
He didn't need to turn around to know that the two thousand cavalrymen behind him were following closely like an iron torrent—many of them were veterans who had survived the orcish attack, and the names of their fallen comrades were engraved on the inside of each of their armor.
His former squire, the young knight Arthur, rode up and said, "My lord, scouts report that enemy forces have been spotted ahead!"
Duke raised his hand high, and the entire army immediately slowed down.
A short while later, just as Arthur had predicted, an army was hastily forming ranks on the distant horizon.
Duke raised his binoculars, and his blood rushed to his head!
Even if the flag on the other side were burned to ashes, he would recognize it; it belonged to the Bradley Family, who betrayed the kingdom, colluded with the orcs, and nearly caused the Watchers' destruction!
"Notify the entire army to prepare for attack!" Duke coldly ordered the bugler beside him.
As the bugle sounded, Duke's mind flashed with the firelight of the day Watchers Fortress fell. He crouched low, his lance aimed at the shameful banner of treason.
"For Sentinel Legion!"
"For Duke Morton!"
The veterans who survived from the old legion couldn't help but roar angrily, their roars mingling with the thunderous sound of horses' hooves.
The iron-gray torrent swept across the wilderness, and the earth trembled under its iron hooves.
On the other side, Longfellow suddenly reined in his warhorse, nearly dropping his lance.
"That…that's the Watchers' gray flag!" His voice was distorted with shock.
Boyle looked in that direction and saw the command flag in his hand fall to the ground with a thud.
On the distant horizon, a torrent of iron-gray cavalry pressed down like the Grim Reaper, sunlight dancing on those familiar pointed helmets—the very same standard equipment of the Sentinel Legion, which they had once stabbed in the back.
"Impossible…" Longfellow's lips trembled. " The Sentinel Legion has long been destroyed!"