Chapter 238
Chapter 238. Intervention and Warning
A roar that shook the clouds suddenly thundered across the sky, and silver-white fur gleamed beneath the sunlight with a metallic luster.
The Silver Behemoth’s enormous body blotted out the sky. Its four hooves stepped through the air and stirred up fierce winds, forcibly suppressing the sounds of slaughter on both battlefields.
Its amber vertical pupils swept across the land below. Whether they were clan warriors in the midst of battle or troops of the royal army, all of them froze beneath that pressure rooted deep within their bloodlines. The hands gripping their weapons trembled against their will.
That was the sovereign aura unique to the Behemoth Race, enough to make any beastman feel reverence from the depths of his soul.
Almost at the same time, deep beast roars sounded one after another above the Secret Realms of several other mid-sized clans. Silver Behemoths broke through the clouds in succession.
When their enormous figures landed, the ground trembled. With only a single glance, the battlefields that had originally been locked in a deadlock instantly fell silent. No one dared to move another inch.
Inside the Orcs Emperor’s Palace, a Purple-Gold Behemoth reclined upon a stone seat lined with black sable fur. Its scale-like mane flowed with purple-gold radiance, and its voice was as low as thunder.
“Kin slaughtering kin like a pack of uncivilized wild dogs will only make the other races laugh if word spreads.”
The Orcs Emperor sat on the bone chair opposite it. His brows were tightly furrowed, but in the end, he still breathed a sigh of relief and said helplessly, “I failed to keep them under control.”
“But the Eight Great Clans are far too arrogant, are they not? Could you perhaps...”
The Purple-Gold Behemoth waved a paw.
“Announce to the outside world directly that those two mid-sized clans attempted to collude with external forces and deserved to be purged. Give the northwest lands to them. It can be considered clear reward and punishment.”
“As for the penalty... I will make the Eight Great Clans cede sixteen mid-sized Secret Realms to the royal family. This matter ends here.”
The Orcs Emperor thought for two seconds, then bowed and replied, “I respectfully obey the Great Elder’s decree.”
At the same time, within the ancestral Secret Realm of the Eight Great Clans, Golden Behemoths either sat or stood, their golden manes glaring brightly beneath the torchlight.
“The royal family has given you a way out, so do not push your luck.”
One of the Golden Behemoths tapped the ground with a giant claw.
“If you truly drive the Orcs Emperor into a corner, no one in the Orcs Alliance will gain anything. Do not think I do not know what you are planning. If you dare to break away and become independent, the Behemoth Race will erase you directly.”
The clan chiefs looked at one another. Though they were unwilling, they eventually lowered their heads beneath the Golden Behemoth’s pressure.
Three days later, the magic announcement boards that covered the entire beastman territory lit up with a dim glow, clearly displaying the newest edict.
A map of the northwest lands slowly unfolded across the light screen, and the region marked out in red lines was placed under the name of the Eight Great Clans.
Meanwhile, sixteen faintly glowing Secret Realm icons moved from the clan territories toward the royal family’s map, like chess pieces being carefully set into place.
Once the news spread, the originally tense atmosphere abruptly eased. Yet in private, many Orcs looked toward the clouds in the northwest and felt that beneath this seemingly complete resolution, a more complicated undercurrent was hidden.
The ceded land and transferred Secret Realms seemed more like an invisible net, binding the relationship between the Eight Great Clans and the royal family even tighter.
However, only the Eight Great Clans and the royal family knew that this was merely a compromise made under pressure from the Behemoth Race.
When the Eight Great Clans handed the contracts for the sixteen mid-sized Secret Realms to the royal envoys, the unwillingness in their eyes had already transformed into an even fiercer desire for conquest.
Three days later, the horns of assembly resounded across the border of the Northern Continent. Golden Beastman Legions, thirty percent greater in number than before, crossed the strait of the Sea of Despair, their spearpoints aimed straight at the scattered kingdoms of the other races in the Eastern Continent.
Their offensive was sharper than ever before. The swamps occupied by the Lizardmen were smashed by warhammers until mud splashed in every direction, while scale armor and broken spears rose and sank in the turbid water.
The Coral City guarded by the Fishmen was split open by giant axes, and salty seawater mixed with blood foam surged onto the beach.
Even the lairs of the Shadow Rat Clan, the race most skilled at concealment, were tracked down by the wolf cavalry’s sense of smell. Wails rose and fell from deep within the caves.
Only the Elf branch in the heartland of the Eastern Continent remained unaffected, relying on the backing of the Elf Race.
Almost at the same time, the iron cavalry of the Kroll Kingdom also raised clouds of dust across the plains of the Reinhardt Kingdom.
William was currently holding the intelligence sent back from the front and reading through it.
Then he issued an order.
“Take three city-states within three days.”
His fingertip traced across Reinhardt’s capital on the map.
“Tell the vanguard troops that there is no need to hold back.”
Kroll soldiers charged over embers that had yet to die out. The forest of spears formed by their long spears pierced through Reinhardt’s final defensive line.
The carriages of fleeing nobles were overtaken by cavalry in the wilderness. Their ornate compartments overturned in the wheat fields, and the scattered gold coins were trampled into the mud by horse hooves.
Battle reports from both sides flew back to their respective royal capitals like snowflakes.
One day, the Orcs had broken through the Lizardmen’s royal court. The next, Kroll had occupied Reinhardt’s granary. Like a silent contest, both sides expanded madly across the map of the Eastern Continent.
Candlelight flickered, casting the shadow of the throne upon the cold stone floor. William was reading through battle reports from the Reinhardt front when Duke Tuso walked in softly and bowed.
“Your Majesty.”
William raised his eyes. His fingertip paused on the parchment.
“What is it?”
Duke Tuso tightened his grip on his sleeve, and fine sweat appeared at his temples.
“Your Majesty, regarding the military merit reward system... half a month has already passed. The nobles come asking every day, yet they dare not disturb Your Majesty, so they all keep hounding me...”
William set down the battle report and suddenly laughed.
“Oh? Since when did Duke Tuso become the nobles’ mouthpiece?”
Duke Tuso’s face turned pale, and he hurriedly bowed even lower.
“I misspoke! I should not have...”
“Enough.”
William rose, his dark cloak sweeping across the floor before he stopped in front of him.
“I was only joking with you. The list was drawn up long ago. It is just that there are still some noble children fighting on the Reinhardt front. We cannot very well let those who have shed blood return and find that their names are absent from the reward list.”
“When they return victorious, we will assess their merits and distribute rewards together. That will be fair. Do you agree?”
Duke Tuso pressed his forehead against the cold floor.
“Your Majesty is wise. I recklessly discussed affairs of state. Please punish me, Your Majesty.”
William no longer paid him any attention. He turned and sat back on the throne, picked up the battle report again, and drew a circle beside the words “captured the royal demesne fortress.”
Only the crackling of candle flames and the faint rustle of turning paper remained in the hall.
Duke Tuso maintained his bowed posture, and his back was gradually soaked through with cold sweat. This continued until the sound of the night patrol’s clappers came from outside the window.
It was already three in the morning, yet William was still annotating battle reports, as though he had completely forgotten that someone was still below the steps.
Only after a long while did William wave a hand without raising his head.
“You may withdraw. Tell those nobles that I have never mistreated those with merit.”
As though granted amnesty, Duke Tuso retreated softly and carefully. Only when the palace doors closed behind him did he dare wipe the sweat from his forehead.
As for William upon the throne, his gaze had already returned to the battle report. The cinnabar brush in his hand paused for a moment over the four words “Reinhardt Royal Capital.”