Necromancer, summoning 055? What the heck?

Chapter 348 Choice: Blood Oath Lord's Scheme - A Historical Masterpiece
Hamon's guess is very close to the truth.

The reason the "Long-Toothed" tribe remained so quiet was that they already knew the identity of their opponent before Chen Mo issued that proclamation announcing his attack on the continent.

It was the Han Hai Territory that had just wiped out more than 100,000 human and beastmen troops at Qishan Pass.

The "Long-Toothed" tribe chose to play it safe for now and wait for the autumn hunting army to return.

The source of this news was naturally the "Seven Luminaries Garland" Chamber of Commerce.

Well, the busiest people during this period have to be these dwarfs.

With their left hand, they accepted the generous bribes from Rainbow Holy City and secretly sent the elite warriors of the Vast Ocean Territory into the heart of the White Deer Plains in batches.
With his right hand, he accepted the huge sum of money paid by Han Hai Ling for the purchase, and with a clear conscience, he supplied the army that was about to fight the orcs with food and weapons.

He took the opportunity to further sow discord between the orcs and humans in the "Long-Toothed" tribe, partly to gather internal intelligence and partly to exchange this intelligence for benefits with the Vast Ocean Territory.

At the same time, they also took the opportunity to sell some of the selected intelligence about the Vast Ocean Territory to the "Long-Toothed" orcs.

Regardless of the final outcome of this great battle, the "Seven Luminaries Garland" is exhausted.

For the dwarf race, no one can stop them from making money, not even the highest gods!

Now, after careful observation and evaluation, the dwarfs believe that Lord Chen Mo has a high chance of winning in the current confrontation between the Vast Ocean and "Long Teeth," so they have chosen to increase their bets.

One of the key bargaining chips was the servant army within the orc tribe.

Hamon is now facing such a choice.

Should we switch sides?
This was no trivial choice; it was a high-stakes gamble concerning him and the lives of tens of thousands behind him.

If the auxiliary army suffers a defeat, their families and relatives will undoubtedly fall into the sixth tier and become slaves who will never see the light of day again.

After tossing and turning all night, no one knew what Hamon had thought of or figured out. In any case, around noon the next day, Hamon summoned his most trusted confidants.

The atmosphere inside the tent was unusually oppressive. After waiting for a long time, Hamon raised his head. Having not slept for dozens of hours, the human general's eyes were filled with dense, bloodshot veins, making him look somewhat like a beastman of the White Rabbit clan.

It's a kind of fear of being at the bottom of the food chain, constantly on guard against predators.

He looked around at the faces that had followed him for many years, his voice a little hoarse.

"The enemy's vanguard has already reached the foot of Black Mane Ridge, exuding murderous intent. I estimate that in a few days, once the enemy's main force catches up, they will begin their attack."

"Reconnaissance has also been blocked. In the past two days, every squad of wyvern cavalry that went out has been lost. They dare not go out anymore!"

"Do you think we have any hope of winning this battle, being cornered like this?"

A moment of silence fell over the field.

The generals all kept their eyes down, focusing on their own thoughts, and even their breathing became much lighter.

No one was stupid; they vaguely sensed the general's hidden meaning, but the matter was too serious for anyone to speak up.

What if... what if I guessed wrong?

What if there are a few orc swordsmen hiding behind the main tent? Is our commander trying to show his loyalty to the orcs?

For many years, the orcs had amassed great power, and their tyrannical authority, wielding life and death, was ingrained in the very bones of most people. The thought of them suddenly harboring other intentions always instilled a nameless fear in people's hearts.

But Brin didn't care about that. He was overjoyed to hear that his general's words had a certain meaning.

Here, he was nominally the lowest-ranking, and according to past practice, he would always choose to speak last. But now, Brin didn't care about that anymore.

The fire burning inside his chest had reached his throat.

After waiting for about ten seconds and seeing that no one spoke, Brin could no longer contain himself and stood up.

"General, generals, I have something to say."

"In this battle, regardless of whether the orcs win or lose, our vassal army is doomed!"

"Everyone here knows the strength of the 'Black Mouth' tribe! They could easily take on our two auxiliary armies head-on! But what about now? They've vanished without a trace, most likely all dead!"

"What kind of strength does Linshui Village have? Their leader has met our general and is one of the most formidable warriors among the orcs. Otherwise, they wouldn't have placed him at such a crucial gate. And what happened? They disappeared without a trace!"

Brin became more and more excited as he spoke, and his arms started waving involuntarily.

"Now those orcish beasts have left us here at the entrance of the valley. Isn't it obvious that they're making us take the first hit from the other side?"

"Even these orc scum can't hold on, how can we?"

"Isn't it just trading our brothers' lives for some of their arrows and magic?"

"Even if these orcish trash win, how many of us will be left? If they win, we'll probably be reduced to dust..."

While Brin was muttering curses like "beast," "scum," and "trash," the other generals kept a close eye on their commander's expression.

Hamon remained expressionless.

Alright, everyone understands now.

If an employee berates the boss mercilessly in front of the department manager, and the manager remains silent...

Now it seems there might really be axemen hiding behind the large tent, though they might not necessarily be orcs.

The middle-aged general, whose rank was second only to Hamon, stood up and declared resolutely: "We have suffered greatly from the oppression of the orcs and those Torika bastards over the years, and it is all thanks to the great general's care!"

"I don't know anything about humans or orcs, or who's stronger or weaker. I just follow the general's orders. Whatever the general tells me to do, I'll do! Wherever the general points, that's where my sword will strike!"

Once someone takes the lead, the subsequent statements follow naturally.

Following a predetermined order—first by rank, then by the order of promotion for those of the same rank, and then by age for those promoted simultaneously—everyone stood up to express their opinion. Their tones ranged from impassioned to calm, and some even trembled slightly, but their opinions were completely unanimous.

We'll do exactly what the general says!
In fact, the generals who were summoned to the main tent to participate in such confidential matters at this moment had already been repeatedly selected and tested in Hamon's mind, and were the core of the team who could be entrusted with important tasks.

The result pleased Hamon greatly.

The general stood up, clapped his hands a few times, and everyone's hearts tightened.

Several guards emerged from the large tent behind them and brought over an orc.

The orc looked quite miserable; his hands and feet had been broken and were hanging down at strange angles. His mouth was stuffed with rags and strangled with leather ropes, and he could only make muffled and painful "woo-woo" sounds from his throat.

Despite his face being covered in blood and dust, the sharp-eyed generals present immediately recognized him as the orc supervisor stationed in their auxiliary army.

In theory, this guy was the superior of everyone present. However, since orcs have always looked down on their servants, the position of human military supervisor was basically held by those second-generation orc playboys who, although incompetent, had powerful connections.

These guys have always treated their vassal soldiers like dirt, and even Hamon has suffered his share of humiliation.

But no matter how useless he is, he is still a legitimate military supervisor with a strong orc background. When this guy was pinned to the ground like this, everyone present knew that their general had gone berserk and there was no turning back!

At this moment, the orc overseer had clearly realized his fate.

Overwhelmed by extreme fear, he twisted his body, which he could no longer support, and desperately thrashed his neck, the only part of his body that he could still move, against the hard ground with his forehead, making muffled "thump-thump" sounds. Through his blocked mouth, he managed to squeeze out indistinct pleas for mercy.

Occasionally, when he turned his face, tears and snot would smear all over his face, washing away the bright red blood and leaving several white marks.

It's kind of funny...

Everyone in the tent was seeing this arrogant orc overseer cry for the first time; in fact, most of them were seeing an orc cry for the first time.

So it turns out orcs also howl and beg for mercy; even orc generals kowtow...

Just as everyone was filled with excitement, Hamon's hoarse voice came again: "If we brothers work together and accomplish this great thing, we will never be bullied by the orcs again!"

"Today, right here, use the blood of this orc scum to wash your filthy hands!"

"One man, one knife; from now on, we're brothers who will live and die together!"

Before Hamon could finish speaking, Brin was the first to rush forward, almost snatching a dagger from the guard and plunging it viciously into the orc overseer's stomach. Then, he twisted it horizontally with force. When he looked up, tears streamed down his face, and his expression was contorted with rage.

The orc overseer's body arched instantly, like a fish thrown ashore, convulsing violently, his eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, and strange gurgling sounds coming from his throat.

The middle-aged lieutenant stepped forward and thrust out a second stab.

And so, one general after another stepped forward and stabbed the enemy with their swords.

These are all experienced professionals who are extremely careful with their strikes. Every stab is aimed at a vital organ, but not so deadly as to leave the next person warm and still able to move.

Inside the tent, only the dull thud of blades piercing flesh and the increasingly faint moans of the orc overseer remained.

Finally, Hamon personally beheaded the orc overseer with a single stroke. The general's swordsmanship was perfectly controlled, and blood gushed out like a fountain, landing precisely in the iron basin placed on the table.

"Clang-"

Hamon threw the blood-stained longsword on the ground, walked to the table, put his hands into the still warm blood, rubbed them together, and then raised his blood-soaked hands to vigorously rub the junction of the shoulder armor and arm armor on his left shoulder.

Beneath the armor, the white lining was a deep crimson.

Everyone followed suit, washing their hands in the blood basin and leaving marks on their shoulders and sleeves.

"The brothers under my command who have this red patch on their arms are my own men!"

"The enemy will launch an attack at dawn two days from now. Everyone, listen to my command!"

Hamon abruptly raised his bloodied arm, clenched it into a fist, and swung it down with all his might, letting out a long-suppressed roar from deep within his chest:

"These beasts have gone too far!"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

When Chen Mo received the message from the "Seven Luminaries Garland" at the command center of the Vast Ocean Territory, he was somewhat unhappy.

Why should I bother with you?
Do I care about the combat strength of these human servants? Wouldn't it be better to just capture them as prisoners and send them for labor reform?

Those who can be reformed are good soldiers, and those who can't are perfect for hard labor—nothing is wasted!

How can we deal with them severely now that they've surrendered?
Moreover, from a strategic perspective, he not only couldn't treat this first example of surrendering harshly, but he also had to provide him with good food and drink, coax him with kind words, and even, in order to set an example for other observing human and orc tribes, he couldn't immediately disarm and strip them of their command.
Otherwise, if he were to gain a reputation for "discarding the millstone after it has served its purpose" or "discarding the bridge after crossing the river," it would create a lot of trouble for his subsequent plans.

These dwarfs are so annoying.

But faced with Oulen's face, which was beaming with excitement and seemed to say, "Praise me! We've done another great service!", Chen Mo could only sigh inwardly and was forced to accept the fact.

Let's vote!

After all, relying solely on the strength of the Vast Ocean Territory, it could defeat one "Long Tooth" tribe, and even a few more "Medium Tooth" or "Short Tooth" tribes. However, given the vast territory of the White Deer Plains, the large population, and the reality of a large number of humans, half-orcs, beastmen, other races, and various hybrids intertwined together, the Vast Ocean Territory alone simply could not manage it all.

This necessitates the absorption of a large number of relatively advanced local elements.

Chen Mo still wanted to maintain a high standard for those who surrendered voluntarily, setting a good example for them.

"Let me make one thing clear first!"

Chen Mo tapped the table and emphasized to Oren, "'Long-Tooth' tribe, regardless of whether these vassal armies defect or not, my Vast Ocean Army will surely win!"

"So, it's not that you did a lot of work for me or helped me a lot, but that I gave these vassal armies a chance to abandon their evil ways and come to the light!"

"This is the premise. If you, the 'Seven Luminaries Garland,' or the other side's allied forces cannot recognize this point, then our cooperation is out of the question!"

Oren nodded repeatedly, indicating that he understood.

The lord is right!
This former deputy deacon of the "Seven Luminaries Garland" Northern Trading Company has now become one of the seven chief traders of the Northern Headquarters, achieving a rank leap he never dared to dream of.

All of this had nothing to do with his abilities or background; it was simply because he had gotten involved with Han Hai.

Standing in the right place at the right time, not only pigs, but even trucks can take off.

In the past few years, not only Oren, but all the people from the Mist Moon Divine Court who have maintained close ties with the Vast Ocean Territory, such as Farrell and Avery, have soared to great heights as if riding on a giant dragon.

According to a bishop's comments in a very private setting, a community of interests has been formed between Rainbow Holy City and the Seven Luminaries Merchant Guild, which is closely tied to the Vast Ocean Territory and has even begun to influence the Misty Moon Divine Court's assessment of the Vast Ocean Territory to some extent.

Seeing Oren's beaming smile and frequent nods, Chen Mo's tone softened as well.

"What I need most right now is for your company to help me ascertain the actions of the other orc tribes."

"Before we knock down 'Long Teeth,' they might still be able to watch from the sidelines, or even be happy to see 'Long Teeth' suffer some misfortune."

“Once we actually take down ‘Long Tooth,’ the orcs won’t sit idly by and watch a human power rise in the White Deer Plain. I’m afraid the various orc tribes will immediately unite and launch a siege against us.”

"I need to clarify which groups are most likely to be the first to take action against me, and which groups can be kept on the sidelines for the time being through diplomatic mediation and the transfer of benefits? Is there any way to achieve temporary peaceful coexistence or even limited cooperation through negotiation and communication?"

"Also," Chen Mo said, moving his finger up the map, "I've always lacked effective information channels regarding the Wasteland Orcs. What kind of support can you provide me?"

"Right? If you're sincere about cooperating, then show us something real, instead of always resorting to these underhanded tactics!"

After seeing Oren off, the foot soldier who had been by the lord's side all along, the officer who was known as the most "cunning" among the centaurs, leaned over and whispered a suggestion to the lord.

"Commander-in-Chief, if you really think it's difficult to deal with these human servants after they surrender, I... uh, I have a rather immature idea."

Chen Mo raised an eyebrow, signaling him to continue.

"We can secretly send the message to the orcs, letting them know that the vassal army is about to betray us in an accidental way, while also giving the vassal army a heads-up."

"In this way, the orcs will most likely strike first and clean house. And in order to survive, Hamon will have no choice but to launch a preemptive strike and fight to the death. An internal conflict is bound to break out! This will not only throw 'Longtooth' into great chaos, but also cut off the bargaining power of this group of 'No Return' humans."

"Then their human lives will depend on us. Won't we get to decide what they say?"

Chen Mo glanced at the guy.

Sure enough, you're still the darkest of them all!
It's hard to imagine how I managed to produce such a student.

However, it must be admitted that although this guy's values ​​often teeter on the edge of morality, he is at least very firm in protecting the interests of Han Hai.

Moreover, Chen Mo genuinely appreciated Ma Qianzu's unconventional and imaginative ideas. Keeping the child by his side, even if only to hear these "less than honorable" suggestions from time to time, would greatly help him broaden his thinking and anticipate what insidious and vicious tactics the enemy might use against him.

Chen Mo finally shook his head. "There's no need to use these methods for now. If the 'Long Teeth' vassal army can really defect, it will save us a lot of time and reduce the casualties of some soldiers."

"As for bargaining, I haven't agreed to anything, so what bargaining is there?"

"Tell Kaga to fight this battle well and show the might and spirit of the Vast Sea Territory!"

"By then, as long as those human servants aren't blind, they should be able to recognize their place."

After giving his instructions, Chen Mo got up and went to the map hanging on the wall.

His gaze passed over Blackmane Ridge, over the plains dotted with tribes, and finally settled on the Illusion Flame River, which, like a blue ribbon, runs through the three major power regions, stretches across the White Deer Plain from east to west, and has a wide river channel and crisscrossing tributaries.

Conquering the area where the "Long-Toothed" tribe was located was just the beginning.

As the human race raises its banner on the White Deer Plain, the orc autumn hunt army returning from the Flag Mountain Pass and the main forces of the orc tribes north of the Illusion Flame River will inevitably launch a massive counterattack.

His nominal human allies are mostly thousands of miles away, and given their nature, it would be considered morally exemplary if they didn't stab him in the back.

To withstand this wave, we either need to relinquish most of our control and concentrate on a defensive posture, stabilizing one or two key areas, or we need to continue to reinforce our troops.

Should we borrow a wave of troops from the elves, or release another destabilizing factor that could affect the continent?

The lamplight slanted across the huge military map. The young commander-in-chief's brows were slightly furrowed, and his expression was solemn. Behind him, the deputy commander-in-chief, Princess Liushuang, rested her chin on her hands, her eyes fixed on the lord's tall and straight back.

Dim lighting, a huge map, a thoughtful commander, a silent young girl...

The photographer accompanying the army had a sudden inspiration, raised his camera, and with a soft click of the shutter, captured another historical masterpiece.

(End of this chapter)