Transmigrated with a Demon-Refining Pot: Hehehe, Refine in an instant

The next day, before dawn, the sound of horns came from the orc camp.

Ron stood on the city wall, his breath immediately dispersed by the cold wind.

Torches lit up the distant orc camp, and shadowy figures moved about. Today's operation was larger than the previous two days, with three siege towers and many more ladders deployed.

"They're going to risk their lives," Laun muttered from the side.

Ron didn't speak, he just stared into the distance.

The wolf-headed chieftain stood at the front of the formation, the bandages on his shoulders removed, revealing gruesome scars. He raised his bone club and roared, and a deafening howl erupted from the orcs.

The battle lasted for almost two hours.

The orcs charged again and again, and the corpses piled up to half a person's height under the city wall, but the orc commander seemed not to see these casualties and continued to charge.

Ron and his men guarded their section of the city wall. The soldiers broke three spears and their hands were blistered.

"Did these bastards take the wrong medicine today?"

Hart was panting heavily, his armor covered in blood.

Ron shook his head, about to say something, when he suddenly felt a cool sensation on his face.

He looked up.

A snowflake landed on my face, cool and refreshing. Then came the second, and the third.

Snowing!

At first, it was fine snowflakes, but it quickly turned into a heavy snowfall, falling all around.

The orcs' offensive ceased; the siege towers stopped, and the ladders stopped too.

The beastmen looked up at the sky; some reached out to catch the snow, while others stepped back.

In the sky, the fighting figures also stopped.

The Marquis of Windsor, riding on his dragon, spoke to the werewolf war king.

"It's time to end this."

The Wolf-Headed Chieftain stood motionless in the wind and snow, a look of resentment on his face. Finally, he gave the order.

"retreat!!"

The bugle sounded. This time, it was the call to retreat.

The orcs began to retreat, and the defenders did not launch an attack, watching as the orcs slowly retreated like a tide.

The Wolf-Headed War King stood in the air, snorted coldly at the Marquis of Windsor, glanced back at Sandstone Castle, and then disappeared into the snowstorm.

below.

The city wall was quiet for a while.

Then someone excitedly shouted, "We won! We won! The orcs have retreated!"

The voice grew from one person to several, and finally into a deafening roar. Some soldiers threw down their helmets, huddled together, while others squatted on the ground and wept.

Ron stood behind the battlements, watching the orc's shadow grow smaller and smaller until it was swallowed by the snow.

The wasteland turned into a vast expanse of white, and the corpses beneath the city walls were buried under the heavy snow, erasing all traces.

"We held on," Laun said in a hoarse voice.

Ron felt a pang of emotion; it was finally over.

The snow is getting heavier.

The bricks and stones on the city wall were covered with a layer of white, and they creaked when you stepped on them.

The Marquess of Windsor landed on a dragon, leaving behind the order to clean up the battlefield before departing.

Ron was also excited when he heard the order. Since arriving at Sandstone Fortress, he had not collected any corpses, and he had never taken the Demon Refining Pot out of his mind.

There are too many high-level combatants on this battlefield, and there are even first-tier mages.

Ron couldn't figure out their abilities. What if they discovered his secrets through some method he didn't know about? He would be left with no one to blame but himself.

Therefore, to be on the safe side, the Demon Refining Pot was no longer used unless it returned to its own territory.

Anyway, he still has a large amount of the original solution he stored up, enough to last him a long time.

The battlefield was littered with corpses. A thick layer of snow covered everything.

Ron had his men load the corpses onto a cart, and secretly pulled out and took away the corpses of the orc blood warriors. The city walls were in chaos, and no one noticed Ron's tampering.

Even if there were some unknown means to detect Ron's movements, it would only mean discovering a piece of spatial equipment.

A wealthy viscount can usually have a spatial device, so he won't attract second or third-tier experts.

After clearing his section of the wall, Ron eagerly went to help on the other sections.

Although most of the orc warrior's essence is in its core, half of it is still in its corpse, making it much stronger than ordinary monsters. Ron didn't mind at all.

And so, Ron shuttled back and forth around the city until he finally filled up his spatial equipment.

They collected more than twenty of them, which were comparable to high-ranking knight squires, and the rest had their cores removed.

After being busy until the afternoon, the Marquis of Windsor called a meeting with the lord.

The council chamber was packed with people, and Ron found a corner to stand in.

Searching for familiar faces: Boris, the old cripple, Austin, the neighbors were all there.

However, Baron Raymond of Malwood seems to have disappeared. He hasn't been seen since the defeat of the Independent Legion on the Eastern Front. Could he be gone?

This really tarnishes the reputation of our pioneering land.

After scanning the area, Ron noticed that the independent legion formed by the new lord seemed to have very few members left; even the legion commander, Viscount Daniel, was nowhere to be seen. Ron sighed inwardly.

Take the seat of honor.

Marquis Mammon sat next to Marquis Windsor, his face still pale, but his spirits had improved considerably.

The Marquis of Windsor cleared his throat and said, "This battle is over."

The hall fell silent for a moment.

"The orcs will be gone soon. But there are some things that need to be taken care of." He paused.

"The orcs have captured a large number of lords and sent a list demanding ransom. I've looked at it, and the price they're offering this time is reasonable, the same as in previous years."

"All the lords have been summoned to fight for the duchy. The duchy will not abandon them. The duchy will pay half of the ransom, and the captured lords' families will have to figure out the other half themselves."

The lieutenant stepped forward and unfolded a piece of parchment:

"In this orcish invasion southward, seventeen lords were killed in action. Fifty-three lords were captured; their names are here."

He read out several names, and Ron recognized some of them: Buck, Victor, and others.

Baron Clark of the Coldpine Territory has been captured, and Raymond is confirmed dead.

The vice-president will continue reading:

"A baron's ransom is five thousand gold dragons and three elf insects. A viscount's is thirty thousand gold dragons, one elf, and five elf insects. An earl's is two hundred thousand gold dragons, three elves, and ten elf insects. Alternatively, grain, ironware, or tools of equal value may be provided."

"The price for a knight remains the same as before; gold coins are accepted."

A buzzing sound filled the hall as people discussed the capture of a lord they knew.

Ron, listening from below, was somewhat shocked.

Why does everyone seem so familiar with the process?

And what about the orcs? Are they doing business?

Actually, it's not that Ron was unaware; it was his first time being called upon, and he wasn't familiar with the process.

The orcs raided south to survive the winter and to seize more food.

Orc warriors need a lot of blood and food to cultivate their qi and blood. They don't farm, and rely entirely on elven insects for production.

Therefore, they would plunder every winter.

After conquering the castle, you can obtain a lot of wealth. Use this wealth to buy grain from the lord of the new territory, and you can harvest more grain.

But the most valuable assets in the territory were definitely taken away immediately.

Captured lords and knights became the biggest commodities, with families paying ransoms to buy the lords back. This revenue accounted for the bulk of the orcs' southward migration.

Therefore, almost all the orc lords captured by the orcs are still alive.

Defeated lords rarely die; as long as they reveal their identity immediately, the orcs will treat them well and protect them.

The lord can even buy a beast-eared girl on credit if he wants to warm his bed.

After listening to the lord's explanation of his experience, Ron and the other man looked at each other in bewilderment.

So, by taking down two lords this time, I can become the top seller among the orcs.

The next steps are not of much concern to Ron. This expansion has resulted in heavy losses, with over fifty territories breached and looted. The issues to be discussed are the aftermath.

Ron only cared about when he could return to his territory.

The good news is that we can return once the snow stops and the orcs retreat.

The meeting ended. Ron braved the heavy snow to return to his base.

River Bend Territory.

Liulichuan sat in the potion room, slowly extracting potion ingredients with a pestle in her hand. The instruments next to her were making a new potion, bubbling and steaming, making her cheeks slightly flushed.

Cecilia lay by the doorway, holding the puppy in her arms, and whispered:

"Sister, when is brother-in-law coming back?"

Liu Lichuan paused for a moment, without looking up: "Soon."

Cecilia pouted: "You said the same thing last time."

Liu Lichuan didn't reply and continued grinding the medicine. The medicine in the separation bottle was churning even more violently, so she got up to adjust the heat and poured in the freshly ground powder.

Cecilia ran off with the puppy in her arms, and Bella's whimpering and Cecilia's laughter echoed from the yard as she chased after her.

Liu Lichuan stood in front of the beaker, watching the liquid slowly change color, but his thoughts drifted to distant places.

I don't know if he's injured.

She paused for a moment, shook her head, suppressed the thought, and continued working.

After finishing all that, she walked to the window and opened it.

A cold wind blew in, carrying fine snowflakes.

Snowing.