Necromancer, summoning 055? What the heck?

Chapter 418 The Wind Rises and Never Returns
The meaningful conversation between Lord Chen and High Priest White Fang lasted for quite some time, until the sky outside began to lighten with the first light of dawn, at which point the two reluctantly ended the first phase of their communication.

Before this, even the strongest negotiation expert on Hanhai's side had a hard time getting any advantage from Lao Baiya. This old guy was like an old catfish that had been soaking in the big mud pit of the Divine Court for decades, slippery and unpredictable!

However, Chen Mo directly pinched the white teeth's gills.

It wasn't that the personnel sent earlier were much less capable than the lord, but rather that the lord's high regard for this former high-ranking official of the Divine Court made his subordinates too hesitant to act.

But Chen Mo was different. After discovering that this old guy was impervious to reason and extremely cunning, the lord had the power to flip the table and refuse to talk at any time.

For a lord, as long as the connection with his ancestral home in Dongxia on Blue Star remains constant, nothing in this world of stars is indispensable.

Chen Mo's attitude put pressure on High Priest White Fang.

Then, when Chen Mo turned around to relieve himself, Xia Yuanfeng, who was left behind, issued a blatant threat.

"My chairman is very busy, extremely busy. He has invitations to visit from the Misty Moon Divine Court and invitations to tour from the Sky Dome Empire, all of which are pressing on his hands!"

"If you continue with this... nostalgic, reminiscing chatter, I would be happy to send someone to escort you to Rainbow City. I believe that Bishop Ryan of Rainbow City will be very interested in the redemption of a former high priest and his valuable experience, and will be able to offer a price... befitting your status."

"As for the lord, I will go and apologize to him myself!"

This was quite straightforward. After considering it carefully, the old man felt that this approach might indeed bring greater benefits to Hanhai.

So he decisively corrected his attitude.

When Chen Mo returned, he saw the two of them chatting and laughing, and he couldn't help but feel deeply confused.

Am I really that bad at this game?
Having overcome the communication barriers, both parties smoothly entered a phase of "frank and friendly" exchange.

Subsequently, the visiting team reported that Lord Chen Mo was feeling unwell and needed to rest for a few days in the West White Deer Plain, thus slightly delaying his trip to the Misty Moon Divine Court.

This small, unexpected piece of news quickly sent a chilling wind through the West White Deer Plain.

The whole thing started with the Lord of the Vast Ocean's journey to the west.

Although the lord was escorted by a powerful fleet of river gunboats and had plenty of skilled men by his side, all the forces associated with him, whether out of genuine concern or to curry favor, unanimously adopted the same strategy: to put pressure on the orc-controlled areas of the Western White Deer Plain.

When the lord passes through, the orcs stay away!
The intelligence department provided Chen Mo with a very detailed report.

"Since mid-last month, the White Deer Restoration Society, now known as the White Deer Independent Brigade, with the support of the Han Hai Information Support Force and the Aerospace Force, has launched multiple proactive attacks, continuously expanding the orc-restricted zone north of the riverbank from the original fifty kilometers."

"Twenty-three orc strongholds have been destroyed, and even the front-line fortress of Ironspine, one of the four major tribes, has been hit by long-range fire from the White Deer Independent Brigade."

"After the lord entered the Illusionary Flame River channel of West White Deer, this attack reached its climax. Currently, according to space-based radar detection, orc patrols of less than a thousand people no longer dare to operate in the plains along the river!"

In terms of absolute combat strength, even with the equipment assistance and basic training from Han Hai, the White Deer Independent Brigade would still face a very difficult situation in a head-on confrontation with an equal number of orc field troops.

Orcs' innate physical advantages and fighting resilience when enraged cannot be completely erased by simply changing their weapons in a short period of time.

But unfortunately, the Vast Ocean has a cheat code—the Heavenly Eye System.

The airships deployed in the high-altitude orbit of the Han Hai Ling area, together with high-altitude long-endurance drones, have almost completely exposed the Xibailu Plain, making it completely transparent.

In this context of a fully open battlefield, the Bailu Independent Brigade can consistently outnumber and outmaneuver the enemy, making it impossible for enemy squads to escape or for large units to be captured. As a result, the battlefield situation is completely one-sided.

Fighting everywhere, losing everywhere.

The orcs were forced to retreat again and again, and the entire alluvial plain along the river almost became the human race's training ground.

That's not all. The Bailu Independent Brigade wasn't the only unit that wanted to show loyalty or sincerity.

On the eastern front, the field army and the national defense army joined forces to launch a large-scale exercise and attack operation. Drones repeatedly crossed the border to bombard, and artillery shells exploded everywhere on the plains, with the intention of keeping the orcs' attention firmly focused on the border area.

The message we're sending is clear: we're making big moves, we might be going all out. You bunch of bastards better behave yourselves and stay put!

Meanwhile, on the western front, the Misty Moon Divine Court also launched a military offensive.

Archbishop Ryan of Rainbow City personally issued an order to ensure the safety of the visiting Summer Moon Alliance Chairman on his journey. As a result, a number of well-armored and powerful Templar Knights marched from the plateau into the territory of White Deer, carrying battle flags that blotted out the sky, moving back and forth along the border between the two sides, ready to fight at any moment.

This situation, with enemies on three sides and threats from all directions, put the orcs stationed at Xibailu in a state of extreme fear and paranoia.

Of the seven garrison tribes of Bailu Plain, three were from Dongbailu. "Liezhao" was killed and his tribe wiped out, "Leiting Roar" was injured and surrendered, and "Motianling" bowed down and submitted. It can be said that the entire army was wiped out.

Although there is another large tribe in Xibailu, everyone knows that it's not a matter of numbers.

Orcs are reckless, not stupid. Faced with this high-pressure stance, the four tribes of the Western White Deer—the Thunderjaw Tribe, the Iron Spine Tribe, the Fire Rock Tribe, and the Bell Armor Tribe—have all contracted their defenses, fortified their strongholds, stockpiled food and fodder, abandoned unimportant outposts and villages on the periphery, and concentrated their forces on major strongholds and fortresses, preparing to weather this period of time.

Although an orc suggested taking a big gamble and killing the lord, the orc chieftain immediately slapped him away.

Don't be silly, the enormous bone palace of "Skullcrusher" Grum and his bald head are still on display in the central hall of Xuan Shui City for people to admire. The ticket sales alone have made Xuan Shui City rich!

From a military perspective, this strategic retreat was undoubtedly correct. While avoiding losses, it also satisfied the other side's need to "protect the lord's shipping lanes," which alleviated the situation to some extent and prevented the immediate outbreak of a full-scale war.

The orcs are waiting, awaiting the next steps and support from the orc royal court and the sacred wasteland.

However, this posture of "the main force taking the beating and abandoning the peripheral subordinates" is a complete bolt from the blue for the small and medium-sized forces that depend on the four major tribes.

Life needs a way out, and pressure needs an outlet.

When one order can no longer be maintained, a new order will inevitably emerge to govern. In the vacuum left by the retreat of the main orc force, some changes are quietly taking place.

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.

On the vast plains of Xibailu, the wind swirled across the bare earth, carrying with it a chilling, razor-sharp edge.

At an orc outpost beside a hillside, two orc sentries huddled in a hastily dug, half-dug burrow, their backs against the cold, damp earthen walls, sharing a bag of pungent, low-quality potato wine, trying to ward off the chill seeping from their bones with the burning sensation.

Of course, any elementary school student in Dongxia knows that drinking alcohol to warm up is similar to taking stimulants.

Alcohol can temporarily dilate capillaries and accelerate blood flow to the body surface, creating the illusion of "heat." However, this actually leads to a significant loss of body heat, a drop in core body temperature, and a risk of rapid hypothermia.

Furthermore, alcohol can slow down reaction time and inhibit the central nervous system's ability to regulate body temperature. Your feeling of not being cold might simply be a facade; your body may actually be numb from the cold.

But what can these orc sentinels do?

They dared not light a fire at all.

The outposts these days have even abandoned their watchtowers; they just hide in burrows like cave animals, peeking out every now and then to sneak a peek at what's going on outside.

Suddenly, the younger orc sentinels perked up their ears.

"Did you hear that?"

The older orc took another gulp of wine, mumbling as he replied, "What did you hear? What else could it be but this damned wind... this awful weather..."

"Those bastards Ironspine have taken all the furs from our tribe, I really don't know how we're going to survive..."

"It's not the wind!" The young scout seemed a little anxious. He pushed the old orc aside, pressed his ear tightly against the cave wall, held his breath and listened for a while, then jumped up on the spot: "It's cavalry, it's those human 'rat' cavalry..."

"How to do?"

"Cavalry?" The old orc pressed his ear against the ground, but only heard a jumbled, indistinct tremor.

"Are you sure it's someone from that Restoration Society?"

Yes! Definitely!

"There aren't many of them, so it's definitely not a large group. They're not running in unison, and there's some distance between them. It must be that group of rats!"

The orcs had also done their own battlefield analysis. Compared to the regular legions on the eastern and western fronts, the Restoration Society was characterized by fewer cavalry, a more varied roster, and they used them cautiously, maintaining a large distance between their ranks. They were mostly used for reconnaissance, harassment, and information relay, rarely engaging in direct charges. The old orc sobered up considerably and reached out to press his companion's shoulder.

"Stop squeaking like a mouse, those are heroes of the Restoration Society!"

"Quickly, raise the flag!"

Soon, a tattered white flag emerged from the hole in the ground, fluttering in the wind.

The strong have the right to define the rules. Ever since the Vast Ocean Territory gained an overwhelming advantage over the White Deer Plains, from orc tribes to dwarf caravans, they have all quietly used the white flag as a sign of surrender.

As the most dangerous outpost of the Echo Tribe, everything else can be left behind, but the white flag is indispensable.

Not long after, the two sentries led the Restoration Society's commando team and knocked on the gate of their own tribal camp.

After surrendering to the Restoration Society, the Echo Tribe simultaneously transformed into a collaborator.

Since the four major tribes cannot protect our safety, and since the tribes that resist will be crushed by the enemy's artillery fire, then we cannot be blamed for currying favor with the powerful and abandoning the weak.

They all just want to survive. The presence of numerous small and medium-sized orc tribes on the East White Deer Plains provides a new option for everyone.

Under the guidance and coordination of the Echo Tribe, the Restoration Society gained more freedom of movement in the orc-controlled areas, and the problem of insufficient manpower was greatly alleviated due to the addition of these collaborators.

In just one week, the vast area between Wangxiang Village and Wild Wolf Valley was left with only surrendered orcs, orcs in the process of surrendering, and dead orcs! This vacuum zone left by the main force of the orcs' retreat was thus transformed.

They handed over food and goods to the members of the Restoration Society, opened their camps for inspection, and many tribes even sent the children of their chiefs and elders as hostages, sincerely requesting submission and protection.

For the Restoration Society and the survivors of the White Deer Remnant Society, this was a dream victory.

With the loss of these buffer zones, the strategic situation of the four orc tribes has become increasingly dire.

They were even more hesitant to engage in battle.

The lesson learned from the powerful offensive of the three tribes of the Eastern White Deer Plain was too painful, so much so that the tribes of the Western White Deer went to the other extreme: as long as the enemy had not yet reached our town hall, we could continue to yield and endure, waiting for the royal court and the army of the Holy Mountain to come and solve the problem.

They retreated time and again, at one point completely abandoning the control area of ​​nearly 100 kilometers along the banks of the Huanyan River.

This completely passive battlefield situation, after being passed down through layers of communication, finally triggered a dramatic change.

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.

White Deer Plain, Vulture Cliff Mine.

This is the most important mine for orcs in the White Deer Plains, bar none.

Looking around, the area no longer resembles natural hills. Countless deep caves have been carved into the mountains, which vary in height and distance, and the exposed rock layers gleam with a cold, iron-gray light under the sunlight.

On the ground, there are pits of all sizes. The huge mine pits are like giant mouths leading to the earth. The smaller ones are tens of meters in diameter, and the larger ones are over a hundred meters. The pit walls are steep, and the bottom of the pit is filled with turbid rainwater, which has an eerie oily sheen.

The winding, narrow minecart tracks meander through hillsides and pits like twisted intestines. In many places, the wooden tracks have rotted and broken, and are crookedly padded with stones.

When the White Deer Kingdom still existed, this place was known as Red Stone Valley, which produced high-quality iron ore.

Before we took control of this area, the armor coverage of the orc tribes was appalling. A scimitar on the wasteland could once be exchanged for a fine horse, five or six sheep, or a dozen orc laborers and human slaves.

When the orc army rolled in from the wasteland and swept across White Deer, they regarded this place as a key point that they had to capture. The White Deer Duchy also deployed a large number of troops here, and the two sides broke out into a massive legion battle.

This agonizing war lasted for a full nine months. Even after the orcs had captured the capital of the White Deer Kingdom, they were still unable to advance an inch outside Redstone Valley.

Finally, it was that group of "non-returning" humans who played a crucial role.

In the ongoing war of attrition, many human mercenaries and free agents from all over White Deer and even from abroad flocked to Redstone Valley to join the defense forces.

In this process, the "No Return" human race used various means, including promises, bribery, and threats, to infiltrate a large amount of sand.

When the orcs had gathered almost all their elite forces to launch a full-scale attack, their inside man suddenly betrayed them, and the Redstone Valley defenses, which were already stretched to their limit, collapsed with a roar.

The last regular army of the White Deer Kingdom bled their blood dry on this battlefield, making the ground of Red Stone Valley exceptionally red.

After the war, the countless corpses scattered across the mountains attracted vultures that blotted out the sky, which circled and pecked at the bodies for months on end.

The orc warlord cleaved the massive stone monument at the entrance of the valley, which bore the emblem of the White Deer Duchy, in two, thus consigning the name "Redstone Valley" to the grave of history. The place was renamed Vulture Cliff.

More than two hundred years have passed, and Vulture Cliff is now completely unrecognizable.

The orcs' mining was completely unplanned; they used the simplest and most brutal method: "dig wherever there's ore." They would dig the surface layer first, and once one area's surface layer was exhausted, they would move on to another. Once all the surface ore had been removed, they would dig down to the next layer.

This is one of the main reasons why the mines are producing less and less, and why they have to import armor and weapons from the Dwarf Merchant Guild at high prices.

The mine is now managed not by orcs, but by the descendants of those "Never Return".

Their ancestors were the losers in the political struggles at the end of the White Deer Duchy, and families who had a grudge against the royal family at the time. Driven by despair, ambition, or the need for survival, they resolutely sided with the orcs at a critical moment and became important forces in overthrowing the White Deer Duchy regime.

Over the centuries, these people have developed a distorted way of life. The orcs treat them as tools, summoning them at will and dismissing them at will, but there is never any trust or respect between them.

The remnants of the White Deer tribe viewed them as lackeys of the beastmen, and hated them with a vengeance.

Other human forces outside the borders regard them as traitors to humanity. The banners of several major families are still displayed on the Mercenary Guild's bounty list, even though these families have quietly disappeared into the dust.

Thus, they could neither return to human society nor integrate into the orc community.

It became a true and undeniable "one who will not return".

Over the years, the "Never Return" group has gradually discovered a serious problem: the family they were so proud of, the family they had once tried so hard to preserve, is about to die out.

In a world ruled by orcs where strength reigns supreme, these "outcasts," whose physique, culture, and beliefs are completely incompatible with their rulers, are far too fragile. So fragile that a simple economic fluctuation, a change of power at the top, or even just the bad mood of an orc warlord could lead to their merciless slaughter, or even the annihilation of their entire clan.

If you can't understand this situation, shift your focus back to Earth and see what happened to the top nobles and families of Dongxia after they left, since they are also human.

Looking at modern times, there were several nobles and important officials of the Eight Banners, even hereditary princes; then there was a large group of representatives of the previous dynasty, such as the four powerful families; further back, there was a group of capitalist tycoons who admired the free world; and even in modern times, there are still wealthy merchants who have taken huge amounts of wealth abroad.

When these people went out, who among them wasn't famous and influential, with followers flocking to them at the slightest gesture? Who among them wasn't incredibly wealthy, capable of shaking mountains and the earth with a single stomp of their foot?
Looking up now, what about the family? What about the assets? What about the descendants?
Even the descendant of the founding father in the history of Dongxia, who was guaranteed a position as chairman of the council upon returning, is now still doing odd jobs like stuntman, risking his life for money and barely making any.
If you extend the timeframe to a sufficiently long period, you can clearly see the logic and rules governing how this world operates.

In the eyes of foreigners, a wealthy Dongxia person and an ordinary Dongxia person are essentially no different; both are outcasts.

Since they are outcasts, it's simply a matter of how much resources to provide them.

They'll drain you dry, and then discard you like trash.

The "Never Return" upper class of Bailu Plain has gone through more than two hundred years of history, and some things are clear even to the most dull-witted person.

The manager of the Vulture Cliff Mine was named Eugene, and everyone called him "Old Eugene." He was already an old man in his early sixties, and among the humans of White Deer, he was a true elder, and also the kind of person who saw things most clearly.

Since the incident involving the West White Deer, Eugene has been staring at the huge map of the mine every day, looking at it morning and night, until his eyes are squinting into slits.

As another group of orc tribes arrived at the docks of the vast sea, Eugene, after calculating the distance and time on his fingers, finally made up his mind.

He summoned his son, his confidants, and several "No Return" leaders with whom he had a good relationship.

After closing the door, Old You laid his cards on the table.

"Everyone, the world in Bailu is about to change completely!"

"We should change our approach!"

(End of this chapter)