Chapter 254: Orc Saint Rank

The document was worded harshly, and Charlot Mecklenburg dared not neglect it. After a brief farewell with Annie Bretagne, he hurriedly departed Strasbourg, taking all his subordinates with him.

This time, Sophia Gallanord was no longer part of his team, nor were the students from Sheffield University.

Charlot had returned to Strasbourg with bountiful gains—both in position and personal strength. Apart from a slight reluctance to part ways with Annie, he was in a rather cheerful mood.

Upon leaving Strasbourg, Charlot rendezvoused with the troops stationed outside the city and set out directly for Machubi Fortress Labyrinth. Though they encountered small groups of defeated orc soldiers along the way, none posed any threat. After all, he now commanded the main force of the West Wind Knight Order as well as the Orc Labyrinth Guards, a force capable of standing up to any orc tribe head-on.

Back in Machubi, the first thing Charlot did was convert the orc warriors captured en route into Labyrinth Guards. However, he soon discovered a major issue.

Among the over 300 orc captives, there was one who could not be turned into an NPC, no matter what he tried. It was utterly impossible to transform this individual into a Labyrinth Guard.

At first, Charlot was simply surprised, but that surprise soon turned into something else—terror.

What kind of person could resist NPC conversion? The answer was something he didn’t want to face.

Countless ideas flooded Charlot’s mind, but in the end, he decided to do nothing. It was akin to discovering a tiger hiding among his flock of sheep. As long as the tiger pretended to be a sheep, it was best for the shepherd to also pretend the tiger was just another sheep, rather than provoke it.

With this unexpected variable, Charlot decided not to linger in Machubi. He ordered Dolores Soumet to lead the elite forces of the West Wind Knight Order along one route, while he took the Orc Labyrinth Guards down another path.

Charlot didn’t need much effort to identify the “aberrant” individual in his team. It was an elderly orc, seemingly of the leopard tribe, like Frederica. Despite his advanced age, he was lean, muscular, and as tough as iron.

One day out from Machubi, the old leopard orc remained with the group. Charlot stopped in his tracks; he couldn’t risk bringing this individual to Silver Dove Castle.

Charlot retrieved the twin pistols, Red and Blue Vipers. He didn’t intend to use them for combat but gently placed them against his left leg, merging them with the Blood Vortex within.

He hadn’t displayed this technique before Sean Connor, but now, faced with an extraordinary orc of terrifying power, Charlot couldn’t afford to hold back.

The synergy between the pistols and the agility runes within the Blood Vortex pushed the Swiftstep Technique to a tenfold amplification. Charlot felt as light as a feather, his confidence soaring.

The Orc Labyrinth Guards, like the West Wind Knights, were organized into small squads of fifty. Charlot first sent out a team composed mostly of older or weaker orcs, ordering them to scout for a campsite ten kilometers ahead. Half an hour later, he dispatched another weaker squad to join them.

The third time, Charlot carefully sent the old leopard orc’s team ahead. Once they had departed and traveled for about ten minutes, Charlot decisively led the remaining Orc Labyrinth Guards in the opposite direction at full speed.

By evening, Charlot stopped to rest and checked his remaining forces. To his shock, the three dispatched squads had all returned, somehow rejoining the group without his notice.

This discovery left him deeply unsettled. That night, Charlot was restless and plagued by anxiety. At dawn, after a brief moment of relief, he devised another plan. Through an elaborate series of maneuvers, he left the old leopard orc and most of his troops in place, taking only his elite Labyrinth Guards on a furious dash away.

By evening, however, Charlot found his group inexplicably growing larger once again. By the end of the day, all the Labyrinth Guards had returned, and the old leopard orc was among them.

On the third day, Charlot made a desperate decision. Abandoning the nine extraordinary-ranked Labyrinth Guards, he fled alone, using the cover of darkness and the full power of his Swiftstep Technique x10 to run through the night. But as dawn broke, he saw a fully-formed orc camp calmly waiting for him ahead.

Charlot took a deep breath, finally understanding that he had been toying with forces beyond his control. Just as he had noticed the old leopard orc’s oddity, the other had clearly discerned his small schemes.

Charlot gripped Berserker Blade tightly and strode into the orc camp. With a single command, all the Orc Labyrinth Guards drew their weapons, pointing them at the elderly leopard orc.

The old orc, who had previously feigned clumsiness and injury, appeared briefly stunned before letting out a chuckle. Rising to his feet, he said, “Young human, you are clever. You’ve uncovered my identity.”

“But do you truly know whom you face?”

Charlot felt a familiar pang of frustration and replied, “I’m not well-versed in orc Saints.”

The old leopard orc’s eyes gleamed sharply. “So, you knew I was Saint rank all along?”

Charlot gritted his teeth. “Yes.”

There was no point in explaining how he had deduced it.

The old orc grinned, baring sharp teeth. “Are you not afraid? I could easily annihilate all your subordinates.”

“How could I not be?” Charlot thought grimly. “But what choice do I have if you refuse to leave?”

He replied aloud, “Fear changes nothing. Besides, if you’ve infiltrated my Labyrinth Guards, I suspect you’re not in peak condition—probably injured by the Saints of Strasbourg.”

The old leopard orc let out a low laugh. “You’re quite perceptive. Indeed, I’ve been grievously wounded. Even with only ten percent of my strength, however, I could still kill you and these traitors.”

Charlot had never imagined he would find himself face-to-face with an orc Saint, let alone one as ferocious as this.

He didn’t know why this old leopard orc had infiltrated his forces, nor did he care to find out. He wasn’t the type to risk his life for answers he didn’t need.

The old orc didn’t strike immediately but instead turned a sorrowful gaze to the Labyrinth Guards. After a long silence, he said softly, “Do you know why the orcs launched an all-out assault?”

Charlot didn’t have an answer.

The old orc didn’t wait for one. “Because the Byron Empire promised us that a Blood God would descend to help us break through Strasbourg.”

“But those vile vampires deceived us. No Blood God appeared. What awaited us was annihilation.”

“Strasbourg is protected by nine True Gods. Even with sixteen orc Saints working together, we could not break through the city’s defenses. After exhausting our magic over ten days of casting Grand Wind Magic, Strasbourg’s Saints suddenly struck. Hundreds of thousands of orcs, along with our Saint-ranked shamans, were wiped out.”

“Orcs…”

The old leopard orc let out a long, mournful sigh, his voice carrying the weight of sorrow and despair.

Charlot’s expression was complicated. He couldn’t understand why the orc would share such a tale with him.

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