Chapter 243: The Orcs' "Staple Food"

Charlot Mecklenburg endured until the third day before he had to order the small unit to retreat due to a lack of supplies.

Before leaving, Charlot glanced back at Strasbourg, where the storm still howled, lightning flashed, and rain poured relentlessly. He couldn't help but quip, "These Saint-rank orcs sure have stamina!"

Sophia Gallanord, unable to understand the humor of another world, earnestly replied, "Saint ranks can indeed fight for several days straight."

Charlot offered her a faint smile before leading the group toward Machubi.

The small force, consisting of a few hundred people, braved the storm and trudged through lightning and thunder for more than half a day before finally putting over twenty kilometers between themselves and Strasbourg.

The further they distanced themselves from Strasbourg, the less they were affected by the gale conjured by the orc shamans. By twenty kilometers out, though the wind still howled, they could faintly see a gray sky. The torrential rain had subsided to heavy rain, and the thunder, which had dominated the skies, now appeared only occasionally.

Relieved, Charlot exhaled deeply and said to Sophia Gallanord, "We have a base nearby. Once we get there, we can rest for a while."

"The battle between Saint ranks is beyond us. Once Strasbourg has a victor, we’ll reassess our options."

By this point, Sophia Gallanord had come to trust Charlot completely. It wasn’t just because he had saved her but also because of the courage, determination, and reliability he consistently displayed—qualities rarely seen in someone of his age.

At times, she even felt a twinge of jealousy toward the West Wind Goddess of Gorgias University.

Charlot, showing no signs of hesitation, led the small unit toward Machubi. They hadn’t traveled far when they encountered an orc encampment. Outside the camp, thousands of human heads were displayed—some mummified, others fresh. There were the heads of the elderly, men, women, and even children.

Some truths Charlot had long suspected, but he hadn't dared to fully imagine.

With only a few hundred men and no way to resupply in the orc-dominated vicinity of Strasbourg, he had always wondered how the army of hundreds of thousands of orcs sustained themselves.

From the moment Charlot saved Sophia Gallanord and her peers, he had already realized what the orcs' "staple food" was.

Humans.

As Charlot surveyed the orc encampment, he said nothing. He merely raised his hand and commanded, "Attack."

Sophia Gallanord had been subtly signaling her classmates to remain cautious and not act recklessly. After all, they were surrounded by the orc army, and danger was everywhere. Saving these innocent humans seemed an impossible task.

But even she struggled to suppress her desire to fight.

The moment Charlot gave the order, Sophia Gallanord could no longer hold back. Shouting fiercely, she wielded her Lion’s Fang and was the first to charge into the orc camp. Her knight's lance swept across the battlefield, taking down seven or eight orcs in an instant.

Following her lead, more than a dozen students from Sheffield University surged forward. These were individuals who had narrowly escaped becoming the orcs' "staple food." For years, whenever the empire suggested cleansing orc tribes, there were always those who argued from a place of compassion, insisting that orcs shouldn’t be slaughtered indiscriminately.

Yet almost everyone in the Fars Empire knew that only a small fraction of orcs had embraced human civilization. The majority still maintained their barbaric customs, including cannibalism.

In the southern reaches of the Old Continent, where the climate was harsh, the orcs had never developed advanced agriculture, and food shortages were a constant struggle...

Charlot once thought orc assassins from the Orc Assassin Alliance behaved no differently from humans. Their mannerisms were indistinguishable from human norms, and individuals like Frederica even attended Gorgias University.

But his perspective shifted when he encountered the Redback Bear Tribe. These bear warriors embodied every stereotype of orcs from fiction: boorish, voracious, heavy drinkers, utterly devoid of caution, and loud snorers.

And yet, the Redback Bear Tribe was among the more civilized orc clans. The reality of most orc tribes was far grimmer than Charlot had ever imagined.

The raid ended swiftly.

Charlot didn’t even need to join the fight.

After all, his unit had over ten individuals with extraordinary abilities. Charlot, Sophia Gallanord, Hundred Bears, Big Bear, and Honey Bear were all mid-level transcendents. The remaining four bear warriors and three Sheffield University students were no less capable.

A mere orc camp like this stood no chance.

Charlot glanced at the wounded and surrendering orc soldiers on the ground and muttered, "Take them along. Keep moving."

Sophia Gallanord couldn't help but ask, "What about the humans?"

Charlot raised his voice and declared, "We are knights of the Fars Empire. Those willing to follow us, join now. Those who aren’t, you are free to leave."

"The orcs' forces will arrive soon. Their retaliation will be merciless, so you must flee quickly."

Under normal circumstances, Charlot would have incorporated all the humans into his ranks. But now, there was no time.

With Charlot’s command, the unit departed almost immediately, abandoning most of the spoils of war and taking only essential weapons.

Approximately two hundred human captives decided to follow the group. Others, however, chose to leave on their own, some demanding supplies like travel funds. A few, emboldened by their newfound freedom, attempted to loot the orc camp. Some merely wished to rest, entirely unaware of the danger still looming.

Sophia Gallanord hesitated, saying, "We could bring more of them."

Charlot sighed and replied, "We can’t make their decisions for them."

"Spending time persuading a few more people doesn’t save them—it condemns all of us."

Sophia Gallanord wanted to argue further, but Charlot's resolve was absolute. Though the skirmish had been brief, it would undoubtedly draw nearby orc forces. They had to leave immediately.

Not long after Charlot’s unit departed, an orc force stormed the camp. At least five or six hundred humans remained behind.

What awaited them...

Charlot forced himself not to think about those who had refused to leave.

At that moment, he shut off his emotions entirely, relying solely on logic to guide his actions.

Humans, for the smallest gains or the most trivial reasons, would risk their lives recklessly.

Charlot, having lived in an era of information overload, had seen countless vivid examples of this.

He led his troops another ten kilometers ahead, finally reaching a zone where only a gentle breeze stirred. The skies were clear, and the rain had ceased. Finding a suitable spot, they began to rest.

Roughly an hour later, the sound of orc cries and the dust of their pursuit rose from the rear...

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