Chapter 348: Do You Think I’m a Fool?

Golden Ram Herolf was not a weak opponent. In fact, the old ram was quite formidable. As a veteran Saint rank, he had roamed the Giant Whale Sea for decades. While Argon, the orc prodigy, was undeniably talented, he was still young, with three decades less experience compared to Herolf. Catching up to the old ram was no easy feat.

Even Menielman, facing Herolf one-on-one, couldn’t defeat him outright.

Golden Ram Herolf wielded oceanic combat energy and oceanic magic, giving him an array of ever-changing techniques. With Sea Strider in his hand, he effectively neutralized the power disparity between humans and the elephantine orcs.

Agon originally planned to take on both Herolf and Tumisan simultaneously. Confident in Tumisan’s abilities, he underestimated Herolf, assuming the Golden Ram’s strength to be comparable to Tumisan. However, he quickly realized that Herolf’s power far exceeded Tumisan’s.

The two Saint ranks fought fiercely for three to four hours. The clouds above were torn apart, reduced to scattered shreds. Though both Argon and Herolf intentionally restrained their powers to avoid affecting the land below, the intensity of their battle was still awe-inspiring and heart-stopping.

During those hours, Charlot Mecklenburg did not remain idle. After observing the battle for a while, he commanded the labyrinth guards to divide the orc army. Those who resisted were beaten into submission by several extraordinary orc guards under Charlot’s command. The orc army, mainly composed of elephantine orcs with a few other docile tribes, possessed formidable combat strength. Under normal circumstances, they could have resisted for quite some time, but they were no match for the overwhelming number of extraordinary guards under Charlot.

Charlot forced the orcs to surrender, ensuring none among them were cannibals, and then sent them one by one to Cappadocia.

Though the battle in the sky continued, the orcs invading Dubrovnik had already been escorted away by Charlot, leaving not even a single beast hair behind.

Agon, engrossed in the fight, had no idea that his forces were being “stolen” by Charlot.

Tumisan, observing Charlot’s skilled handling of the situation, thought to himself, “Mr. Mecklenburg truly has a knack for stirring up trouble.”

“I wonder how he plans to deal with Argon’s wrath afterward.”

Agon let out a long roar, his combat energy coalescing into the form of three giant elephants. This was a signature of the elephantine orcs’ Bloodfire Combat Energy. Each energy elephant amplified Argon’s strength further, with three elephants multiplying his power fourfold.

Golden Ram Herolf unleashed his full strength as well. With Sea Strider in hand, he pointed toward the ocean and shouted, “Wave Surge!” Endless seawater transformed into a waterspout, rising into the sky and forming colossal waves.

Both men possessed deep reserves of power, capable of battling for three days and nights without fatigue. However, Charlot had no intention of letting the fight drag on. He shouted, “Agon! Your army suddenly left the city. I couldn’t stop them!”

Agon, who had been pushing his combat energy to its peak, his battle intent surging ever higher, froze upon hearing this. He quickly scanned the ground below. Focused on the battle, he hadn’t noticed before, but now it was clear—his army was gone.

Agon broke away from Herolf and landed, frantically searching the area. He grabbed Tumisan and demanded, “Where are my people?”

Tumisan replied, “They really left on their own. If you don’t believe me, ask Charlot.”

Abandoning Tumisan, Argon went looking for Charlot.

Charlot wasted no time hiding deep within the labyrinth. Talking to a Saint-rank elephantine orc up close was far too dangerous.

Charlot’s voice echoed throughout Dubrovnik: “Your people truly left. We wouldn’t dare stop them.”

Agon roared furiously, “Do you think I’m a fool?”

“This has to be your doing!” He punched a building, reducing it to rubble. “Come out so I can kill you.”

Charlot responded loudly, “Do you think I’m a fool?”

Agon, consumed by rage, smashed another ten buildings in quick succession. Charlot called out, “If you’re willing, we can leave Dubrovnik. Then you can spend days tearing down the city at your leisure. How about that?”

Agon realized that demolishing buildings wouldn’t solve his problem. Fuming, he stopped and shouted, “You must have taken my people away. Hand them over, and I’ll spare your life.”

Golden Ram Herolf descended as well, maintaining his aloof demeanor and saying nothing. However, the oceanic combat energy surging around him grew even more intense. Argon knew Herolf’s strength was on par with his own and prepared himself for a sudden attack. As the orc prodigy, Argon not only progressed rapidly in cultivation but also possessed exceptional combat experience.

With Herolf providing protection, Charlot felt much safer. He shouted, “This is absurd! You’re being unreasonable, using coercion and violence to force a confession. Is this the behavior of a true hero?”

“You’re just bullying me because I haven’t had as much time to train as you. If I ascended to Saint rank, would you dare challenge me to a duel?”

Facing someone like Argon, Charlot was at a loss. The elephantine orc was stubbornly convinced of his own logic, impervious to persuasion. Charlot decided to keep his trump card—Machubi—for later and not reveal it too soon.

Agon ranted and argued, but as their verbal sparring continued, he realized he couldn’t out-talk Charlot. Enraged, he struck the ground with both fists. The earth shattered, sending cracks spreading through Dubrovnik’s streets and breaking an entire section of the city.

Charlot, alarmed by the sheer power of Argon’s attack, thought to himself, “Blood Glory doesn’t specialize in raw defense. Even if I reach Saint rank, I won’t be able to match him in direct combat. I’ll need to rely on unconventional tactics.”

Sensing the time was right, Charlot finally played his ace. He shouted, “It wasn’t some trick of mine! Your troops heard that Machubi is now in the hands of the Leopardman tribe and left in a hurry.”

Agon froze. Though he believed Charlot was lying, the mention of Machubi—a sacred ancestral homeland to the elephantine orcs—stirred something within him. Since the fall of the Orc Kingdom, all orcs had been driven from the northern continent. The dream of returning to Machubi remained etched in the hearts of every elephantine orc.

Even the most pragmatic among them knew reclaiming Machubi was impossible unless they toppled the human empires and restored the Orc Kingdom.

Breathing heavily, Argon wrestled with conflicting emotions. A voice in his heart screamed, “This man is lying! Such a thing is impossible.” But another faint hope whispered, “What if it’s true?”

Agon shouted, “How could the Leopardmen occupy Machubi? It’s near the Fars Empire’s capital. The human strongholds would never allow orcs to live there.”

Charlot spread his hands and replied, “I helped the Leopardmen obtain citizenship in the Fars Empire. They’re no longer orcs; they’re humans now. Why couldn’t they live in Strasbourg?”

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