RNP Chapter 83 One wave subsides, another rises
Chapter 83 One wave subsides, another rises
Baron Kyle roared laboriously.
"Those are two tough nuts to crack."
"Now, those orcs have gone too."
He turned around, a sinister smile spreading across his face, his fat jiggling.
"Let them fight."
"Let them bite."
"Wait until that guy and those green-skinned beasts are both badly wounded, until their swords are dulled, their arrows are all gone, and their strength is exhausted..."
Baron Kyle opened his arms, making a gesture of embracing the air.
"Let's go clean up the battlefield."
"By then, those orcs will be wiped out, along with their armor and everything from that miracle..."
"They're all mine."
Luo Xia was stunned.
Looking at the obese, greedy, yet incredibly cunning lord before him, a chill suddenly ran down his spine.
Older gingers are more spicy.
This strategy of sitting back and watching the tigers fight is truly brilliant.
"Pass on my orders."
Baron Kyle resumed his languid demeanor.
"All guards are on standby. Close the city gates. Entry is permitted, but exit is not."
"Also, send out all the scouts under your command who are still able to move."
"I want to know every dead person and every drop of blood on that battlefield."
"Especially the movements of those green-skinned beasts; report back immediately once they launch their all-out attack."
"yes!"
The scout accepted the order and left.
Luo Xia could only obediently kowtow and retreat.
Baron Kyle looked at the empty hall, picked up his wine glass, and swirled it gently.
"miracle……"
He chuckled softly and downed the wine in his glass in one gulp.
"It's mine!"
……
On the wasteland ten kilometers away from Locke Town.
The air was thick with the smell of sulfur and blood.
Behind a hidden thicket of bushes, several pairs of dark yellow eyes were staring intently at the "Happy Home" residential complex in the distance.
"Gurza, look."
A deep, rough sound, like the friction between two rocks, rang out.
The speaker was a half-orc who was over two meters tall and had bulging muscles all over his body.
He was shirtless, his skin a sickly grayish-green, covered with crisscrossing scars.
He was carrying a rough battle axe made from the leg bone of some large animal, with dried meat still clinging to the blade.
The orc known as Gulza was even more muscular than him, with two copper rings hanging from his protruding fangs.
He was the leader of this scout squad.
"A strange nest."
Gurza exhaled a puff of white air, his nostrils flaring.
"There are no totems, no animal pens, only those... square stone boxes."
"Is that a human's nest?"
The orc next to him scratched his hairy chest.
"It doesn't taste right."
Gurza shook his head.
"It smells like a human, but it's more tender and softer...like an immature lamb."
His gaze left the residential area and turned to the school on the other side.
There, a red flag is fluttering in the wind.
That's the school's national flag.
"Over there too."
Gurza squinted.
"I smell iron."
"Lots of iron."
For the orcs who were still in the tribal era, iron tools were a more precious strategic resource than food and water.
A good iron axe is enough to allow an ordinary warrior to challenge the warriors of a clan.
And in those two suddenly appearing building complexes, there was iron everywhere.
The security bars on the windows are made of iron, the railings on the roadside are made of iron, and even those strange big iron boxes (cars) are made of iron.
To the orcs, it was practically an open-air treasure trove.
"Go back and report to the chief."
Gurza licked his dry lips and gave a cruel smile.
"Tell him that the gods have bestowed an iron mountain upon the Black Fang tribe."
"There are also many... tender and juicy two-legged sheep."
……
The school, back gate area.
The bloodstains from the battle hadn't been cleaned up yet, and a nauseatingly sweet, metallic smell filled the air.
Li Bin was squatting on the ground, holding a dagger he had seized from the native cavalry, and was struggling to pry open horseshoes.
"This thing is made of iron, we can't waste it."
He muttered as he pried, completely devoid of the ruthlessness he had shown when he killed someone; he was now nothing more than a miser.
Jiang Ming stood to the side, holding a rag in his hand, wiping the bloodstains off the black iron horse-slaying sword.
He had already tied the gray warhorse to a pillar in the guard booth, where it was munching on holly leaves from the green belt.
"Brother Jiang, this leather armor is for you."
Zhao Yanzhi walked over carrying two sets of leather armor covered in blood.
The archery club members behind him were also carrying a lot of spoils of war—spears, short blades, money bags—and their faces were beaming with the joy of a bountiful harvest.
fear?
Faced with tangible benefits, fear has long been cast aside.
"I don't need it."
Jiang Ming didn't even glance at the leather armor; his Silver Knight full armor was a hundred times better than this tattered leather armor.
"You should go and split it with Wang Yang and the others."
"Alright," Zhao Yanzhi replied, pointing to the warhorse behind him, "That horse..."
"The natives you killed are your horses!" Jiang Ming replied.
Horses are good things, but in this environment, raising horses is a huge burden, so he naturally wouldn't want more.
After all, we had already agreed on that.
"And this too."
Jiang Ming pulled a heavy money bag out of his pocket and tossed it around casually.
A crisp metallic clanging sound came from inside.
"If you have any, you can bring them to trade with me for something."
"what?"
Wang Yang suddenly raised his head, his eyes wide open like copper bells.
"Brother Jiang, are you crazy? This is local currency!"
"I know, otherwise why would I have exchanged it?"
Jiang Ming raised an eyebrow at him.
Wang Yang was speechless for a moment.
Jiang Ming ignored his hesitant expression and opened the panel to take a look.
In that last wave, he reaped nearly three thousand experience points by himself, his level soared to Lv.9, and he gained two free attribute points to add to his strength.
This is the greatest wealth.
Zhao Yanzhi gave Jiang Ming a deep look.
This man is not only ridiculously strong, but he also doesn't engage in the kind of domineering dictatorship that student councils do; instead, he plays the barter game with them.
terrible.
"Thank you very much, Brother Jiang."
Zhao Yanzhi didn't mince words and turned to ask his men what was going on.
Just as everyone was immersed in the joy of dividing the spoils, a noisy commotion came from afar.
That's the direction of the open space in front of the faculty and staff dormitory.
"Hurry up! Everyone hurry up!"
"Those who don't want to lie down and wait to die, come with me!"
"This is our chance to become stronger!"
A loud voice, emanating from a megaphone, echoed through the campus, sounding particularly jarring.
Jiang Ming frowned slightly and sheathed the horse-slaying sword back into its scabbard.
"What's going on over there?"
Wang Yang stood up and stuffed the horseshoe he had pried off into his backpack.
"It looks like those bastards from the student council."
"They ran faster than rabbits when we were fighting earlier, and now I wonder what kind of trouble they're up to."