Lately, things in Ryan had truly not been looking good.
Having lost a border city, they now faced the orc invaders across the river. The people of Ryan clearly had boats, yet they did not dare cross over to reclaim their territory.
It was a humiliating disgrace, but after countless defeats, the Ryanites understood that courage alone was meaningless.
The orcs were even less afraid of death than the Ryanites, and if it came to humiliation, the orcs had been bullied by Ryan for so many years that this was their vengeance.
And in military command, Ange Watson was truly no match for that mysterious general.
After inquiring for so long, Ange Watson had finally learned the name of this formidable adversary—Urbano Pacheco.
A frail orc barely in his twenties who had never set foot on a battlefield before.
Urbano Pacheco was not of noble birth. On the contrary, he was a "criminal," only slightly better off than a slave.
Severely sentenced for theft, he had been serving his time in prison.
Nor was Urbano Pacheco physically robust; he was merely average for an orc. Picking up a weapon made him an adequate warrior, nothing more.
What truly brought him to prominence was an expedition against monsters. As a convict, he had been used as cannon fodder to lure wild beasts—under normal circumstances, bait who survived the ordeal would be pardoned.
Yet Urbano Pacheco didn't rely on luck. Instead, risking being whipped to death, he proposed an alternative battle plan to the lord.
The specific details were unknown, but the end result was that Urbano Pacheco's tactics achieved overwhelming success. Thus, Urbano Pacheco transformed from a criminal into the lord's retainer, and he was only seventeen at the time.
Two years later, according to tradition, the orcs held a nationwide martial tournament. Relying on his talent for command, Urbano Pacheco helped his lord claim the championship, sending shockwaves through the entire Orc Kingdom.
One had to understand that the soldiers under that lord didn't have even a single legend among them; they were the kind meant merely to make up the numbers as cannon fodder.
Yet Urbano Pacheco had been able to see through all his opponents' movements, skillfully baiting those powerful rivals into butchering one another.
When the last two legendary orc warriors collapsed to the ground in total exhaustion, Urbano Pacheco stepped forward as the victor and smoothly took the crown.
With that battle, Urbano Pacheco became completely renowned.
Orcs were not truly brainless. They too wished for a commander who could lead them to victory in every battle. It was just that previous orc commanders had merely been the best of a bad bunch—their individual combat prowess was tremendous, but all they could do was howl and charge ahead themselves.
Boosting morale was fine, but in large-scale legion warfare, the orcs fought like a heap of loose sand.
This was also tied to their living environment.
The Orc Kingdom was full of rugged, towering mountains, leaving no room for grand army maneuvers, only skirmishes between small elite squads. Under such conditions, fostering fierce vanguard generals was easy, but cultivating strategic minds was extraordinarily difficult. Without the fertile ground for it, where would such talent come from?
Even if a genius occasionally emerged, winning against superior odds remained nearly impossible.
Yet Urbano Pacheco seemed like an emissary sent by Gruumsh, the Orc God. After he won the tournament championship, many disgruntled orcs issued challenges, but as long as Urbano Pacheco wasn't forced to fight in personal single combat, every challenger lost.
Only then did the orcs realize that Urbano Pacheco had truly received the blessing of the Orc God, allowing him to communicate telepathically with any orc across any distance. Although this blessing hardly seemed like the deity's typical style, its sheer power was beyond doubt.
The orcs had spent a long time preparing around Urbano Pacheco's ability before launching this counteroffensive.
The results were splendid, throwing Ryan completely onto the defensive.
Though the Emerald River was wide enough, how long could it hold back these orcs?
Outmatched in command, deficient in troops, and now even Ryan's greatest advantage—war materiel—could no longer compare to what the orcs possessed.
Standing atop the city wall, Ange Watson watched the several black dots constantly circling in the sky and couldn't help slamming his fist into the battlement.
The impact stung, but the pain could not mask the anxiety churning within him.
Those flying things in the sky were drawing closer and closer; the enemy had likely mapped out the city's defenses and weaknesses down to the finest detail.
When the orcs attacked again, Ange Watson honestly didn't know if he could hold the line.
This agitation gnawed at Ange Watson constantly, until he heard a report from his personal guard: a lich's image had appeared on the magic mirror.
"Finally! He's finally here!"
Ange Watson had never imagined that one day he would be pining over a lich, let alone breathing a sigh of relief over a lich's reply.
However ironic it was, Ange Watson sprinted straight to the council chamber and stopped before the magic mirror.
"Master Ultraman, are you finally free?"
Ange Watson's voice trembled slightly with excitement.
"My apologies, I've been terribly busy lately. As you know, the Volcanic Sea hasn't settled down yet. You ran off halfway through, and the other commanders aren't quite up to your level, so fighting the war hasn't been nearly as easy."
Ange Watson's expression shifted. He wasn't as naive as his younger brother Alan. In a single sentence, the lich had already shifted the blame onto him; no doubt the very next sentence would be a demand for compensation.
Ange Watson hadn't spent much time around this lich, but he understood the creature's personality all too well. An opportunity to make an exorbitant extortion was something he would never pass up.
Sure enough, Anbaixiu's next words were, "As for compensation, out of respect for your brother and father, I won't bring it up. You've sent multiple messages saying Ryan intends to purchase airships from me?"
Ange Watson's face turned exceedingly grim. The lich had definitely baked that "compensation" into the airships' price tag—there was no doubt about it. But Ange had no other choice now, so he could only grit his teeth and ask, "Then what is your price, Master Ultraman?"
From within the magic mirror, Anbaixiu chuckled. "Don't rush to ask about price just yet. I have a question to clear up first. Are you purchasing them on your own behalf, or on behalf of Ryan? Ange, we're old friends. You must never end up branded a traitor just for doing business with me like your little brother was. That would be terribly awkward."
Ange Watson was so furious he wanted to smite him with Divine Smite. In barely a few sentences, this lich had already pinned the accusation of treason onto his head.
No, he was losing his cool.
Would framing him for treason benefit the lich in any way? That wasn't what he meant.
Unable to fathom Anbaixiu's angle, Ange Watson asked, "Master Ultraman, that shouldn't matter to you, should it? As long as I can pay the price, whatever follows is my own affair."
"Oh my, Ange, you're far too conceited. It's not as if you haven't used my airships before—they're a specialized form of undead. And you are Ryan. Using undead for reconnaissance will cause fallout far more severe than losing a battle. I'd hate for you Ryanites to turn around later, pin the blame on me, claim I bewitched you, and pin the fault of your defeat on my head."
Ange Watson hurriedly retorted, "When has Ryan ever done such a thing? Even when dealing with undead, we would never frame someone for crimes they didn't commit!"
"Heh. Your young emperor couldn't beat the Githyanki, trampled your own soldiers to death, and what happened? The wanted poster spelled it out in plain ink—the blame fell on me."
"Th-that is an entirely different matter!"
Anbaixiu wagged a finger, looking at Ange Watson sternly. "In my eyes, it is the exact same thing. Ange, I don't care what standard of judgment you Ryanites hold; as far as I'm concerned, that was nothing short of slander. The one who summoned the Githyanki was Tiamat. I was merely a victim coerced by Her. Yet you lot didn't dare settle scores with the Dragon Goddess of Evil, so you pinned every crime on my head in the end.
"I'll speak plainly, Ange. In my eyes, you Ryanites have less credibility than goblins. If you cannot produce proof that the Ryan Empire officially authorized this trade, I will never do business with you—lest you double-cross me when the time comes and frame me for half a dozen more crimes besides."
Ange Watson could barely hold back from drawing his blade for a Divine Smite. In all his life, this was the first time he had ever heard someone compare Ryanites to goblins—and over matters of credibility, no less!
Yet what infuriated Ange Watson even more was that he couldn't refute it at all.
Though the lich exaggerated, what he said was, to some degree, the truth.
As a paladin, Ange Watson could not lie through his teeth.
Still, Ange Watson was far more mature than Alan. He quickly forced himself to calm down and gave Anbaixiu a wry smile. "Heh, is this how my brother felt back then? Master Ultraman's tongue truly is something even the gods would dread. But are you genuinely worried about such things, Master Ultraman? Even sitting at the very top of Ryan's most-wanted list, have you been affected at all? As for payment, you have no need to worry, because I can pay in full upfront."
"Pay in full upfront? Aren't you afraid I'll take your gold and never deliver the goods?" Anbaixiu asked.
Ange Watson said, "Though Master Ultraman considers Ryan untrustworthy, from my perspective, you hold your own reputation in very high regard. You wouldn't ruin the reputation you've cultivated so painstakingly for such petty coin. That loss would be far too great."
"Impressive. Turns out out of all the sons James sired, Alan really was the foolish one."
Anbaixiu truly had no intention of embezzling Ryan's money, as doing so would indeed do more harm than good.
However, Anbaixiu wasn't about to agree so easily either.
"Ange, no matter how much you promise, I won't take your word lightly. After all, the orcs are my dearest kin and friends; doing business with you is tantamount to betraying them. Not only will the price be steep, but I also have one condition."
Ange Watson asked in haste, "What condition?"
Anbaixiu said with utter gravity, "Have your emperor speak with me personally. Let him tell me with his own mouth that this transaction is sanctioned by him, and that he will never turn around and deny it. This condition isn't asking too much of you, is it?"
Chapter 473