At the center of the battlefield,

Obviously as I was smart enough to somehow got myself in this situation. s/

Chaos reigned everywhere, especially on the orcs' side.

Soldiers and orcs were locked in a relentless exchange, trading lives for kills, with the orcs bearing the brunt of the losses. Most of the corpses laying on the ground were orcs, most died just to inflict any sort of damage or like the majority, died without even inflicting a scratch.

On my side of the fray, tension was escalating, as always, honestly, I have never seen the tension level dropping, if my crypto bro's were here, they would probably talk me into buying more, just so we could buy high sell low later.

The soldiers could still afford to be daring and reckless; their confidence in their superior training and formations has never failed them before, after all, if it did, multiple subsequence events that led us to this point would never occur.

While the orcs are now equipped with better-quality spears and large, sturdy shields, their threat level may have increased, a little.

But, from the soldiers' perspective, they aren't worth a sweat. Figuratively, of course, because these guys are sweating in buckets, those heavy armors and large shields aren't pillows, and it sure ain't snowing.

Although the orcs are using better-quality weapons, and by better-quality it meant any kind of weapon that isn't made out of pure bones, wood or rocks, the orc's forte is not in the utilization of their equipment but in their numbers, high physical resistance, and unyielding fighting spirit in battle.

I was currently debating if I were to include mental resistance as part of the orcs' characteristics, based on my observation, which led me to think deeply: would one even develop a mental resistance to an organ that was never there in the first place, or would one become immune from the beginning since there aren't any organs for the mental attack to cause any sort of damage or harm?

To the soldiers, as long as the orcs are behaving the same and fighting in their usual behavior, then they are nothing but a highly decorated orc.

As I noticed some soldiers eyeing on to me, I chose to stay out of the direct conflict. I have a feeling that these soldiers were more aware of my presence and might be willing to die just to take me down. After all, an unknown variable could lead to complicated things. To a heavily doctrine soldier, trading one's life to prevent such unknown variable to cause more trouble is a cause to die for.

"Last thing I want is for these guys to start yelling banzai and rushing towards me." I muttered

Knowing that I might have kicked the bucket if I were to remain here and participate, I decided to stay back and let the other orcs move through as I continued to observe and assess the imminent danger.

I mean, the threat of death never left, but there's a difference between a group of people mindlessly killing what's in front of them versus actively seeking out specific targets and striking as effectively and deadly as possible when given the chance.

Minutes passed.

Around five orcs had already died before me, so I decided it was time to act.

The soldier who kept eyeing me before finally died a short while ago, succumbing to his fatigue and increasing number of injuries, and has died at the hands of the fourth orc. Despite having limited information and knowing the risks, I still decided to test the waters.

When the fourth orc, followed by the fifth orc, finally died at the hands of the replacement soldier, I immediately took action.

Facing the shield wall, the soldiers adhered to their usual tactics. I braced myself for the incoming assault, ready to execute my strategy, which was to fuck around and find out. As our shields clashed, I anticipated a spear thrust and prepared to counter by lunging forward.

"Shit!"

I exclaimed as the soldier didn’t thrust his spear but instead braced for the shield clash. Simultaneously, soldiers on his right and left flanks immediately advanced a few steps after knocking back the orcs in front of them and completely disregarding the orcs, while multiple soldiers followed behind and then aimed their spears towards my exposed sides.

While on my shield stance, which is blocking most of my field vision, I could only see the incoming multiple soldiers to my left but could only sense the movements of incoming soldiers to my right which was my blind spot and they were preparing to strike.

Not willing to gamble on whether or not the goddess of luck would leave a fart, I decided to not take any chances and escape. I tightly held my large shield with my right hand, the large shield facing forward, and exerted all my strength to leap backwards, using the large shield as some sort of blanket to block any incoming spear.

Normally, such a reckless move could easily lead to stumbling and being at the mercy of your enemies.

But I wasn’t that worried; after careful observation, I knew they would be gunning for my life, though how far they would go, I do not know.

As I leaped back, I felt a thud behind me. Several orcs instinctively caught me and, without care, pushed me aside; others rushed forward and happily filled in the spot I just vacated.

They then engaged with the soldiers who broke formation in an attempt to finish me off, but most of the soldiers stayed and remained in the shield wall formation and made sure no gaps were to be taken advantage of after the ordeal.

"Yep, I definitely got their attention now; shit, I knew it; things were going way too smoothly."

Realizing that they definitely zeroed my ass, I decided to continue using the orcs as a cover and cook up with another plan to either find a way to break through or avoid getting my ass killed.

As I was cooking up some plans, I noticed that the battle had been ongoing for over two to three hours by now, yet there are still multiple orcs behind me, and from the looks of it, these orcs aren't leaving anytime soon and wouldn't definitely stop coming.

"Christ, how many are there?" I muttered.

Nothing to do, too afraid to fight, and still haven't cooked up with new plan, I decided to continue what I was doing, nothing.

I observed that some orcs in front had switched to spears or large shields, but most carried two spears, one on each hand, with only a few orcs opting for the large shields on the ground since there weren't any spears lying around.

Orcs with large shields had a higher survival rate compared to their counterparts, and without any proper discipline and adequate training in regards to fully utilizing the spears with shields, their attacks and defenses were considered ineffective, but the orcs didn't care. New stick, new shield, we party!

Such poor performance, one would wonder how these highly trained soldiers are dying to these orcs.

Heck, we could argue that the majority of these soldiers' deaths weren't at the hands of these orcs. Make no mistake, the orcs are indeed responsible for their deaths, but the main culprits are fatigue, recklessness, overbearing, and total disregard for the orc's destructiveness.

To the orc, as long as one managed to hold on and survive until one of the soldiers made the mistakes mentioned above, then all it has to do is plate the garnish.

It was very peculiar.

In time, the soldiers were capable of slowly eliminating the orcs with minimal casualties. They didn't even need to constantly push with their shields; they could work around slowly building up their tempo to reduce their energy consumption and casualty rate while still maintaining a positive outcome.

Their quick and aggressive approach indeed yielded a much faster way of killing these orcs compared to a slow and steady approach, but at the expense of these soldiers' safety.

In other words, if their main purpose was to break the world record for killing the most orcs in the shortest amount of time, then they're right on track.

Which makes me even more wonder and confused to what the hell is going on.

"This is odd; these soldiers are clearly experienced. They should know they can win this battle with minimal casualties. From the way they execute and maintain formations, it’s safe to rule out their leaders' incompetence." The longer I synchronize with my inner self and instinct, the more attuned I become to small details.

"Maybe I’m overthinking this," I ponder. "An incompetent leader? A bad judgement? Disputes between military officers? Whatever it is, why not take advantage of it? After all, not my soldiers, not my problem, right?" With the possibility that their chain of command might be high and currently wasted, I began cooking up some plans, and the main ingredient would be their utter lack of self preservation or being cocky.

I just hope they really are incompetent and haven’t set up a carefully cooked up trap.

Despite the soldiers' occasional deaths, especially after the collapse of the soldier's first row, which led to a sudden spike in their casualties, I can't shake the premonition that defeat is still inevitable and it's only a matter of time.

The collapse of the first row didn't shift the balance or change the ending outcome; it merely increased the casualties on the soldiers' side, an unexpected 'accident.'

It’s as if more bodies are being added unnecessarily, which would be a hassle for whoever is responsible for tallying them later.

"Alright, let’s see if this works." I mustered my courage, knowing that what I was about to do might issue my death warrant, not just from the soldiers but from the orcs as well.

"The shields!" I shouted, then continued, "The large shields on the ground, pick them up!" I paused to observe their reactions.

The soldiers remained the same, entranced on killing the orcs in front of them. The orcs, however, looked confused; some searched for the source of the voice, while most ignored me; well, some of them are a little bit busy killing here and there.

You see, the orcs have a simple thought process when it comes to weapon choices: 'I like this stick; I use this stick. Oh, another stick; I use both sticks. The stick broke; I find a new stick. No stick; I find a look-alike stick, perfect.'

To orcs, the thought process in regards to practicality and effectiveness in weapon choice is irrelevant to them and was thrown out of their earlobe to clear more space for their brain. Their brains are too preoccupied with more complex thoughts, like how to die gloriously or needlessly in battle.

Spears for long reach and piercing? Nope. Hammers for dealing with heavily armored units? Nope. Swords for close combat and rough terrain? Nope. How about a bone? Shut up and take my money!

If they fancy any weapon, they use it. Is it practical or effective? Who gives a shit?

Their logic is simple: 'My favorite spear may not be as effective against heavy armor as compared to heavy hammers, but if I keep hitting with it, it’ll eventually work. The question is, how many hits will it take? Let’s find out.'

As I marveled at this revelation, I realized the soldiers couldn't understand me, but the orcs could. I’m not even sure how I can speak their language, but somehow, I do. With that in mind, I pressed forward with my plan.

"Pick up the shields on the ground! Use them to block attacks! The more you block, the longer you can enjoy fighting or bathe the blood of your enemies" I exclaimed. "Or yours." I muttered, meanwhile some of the nearby orcs still looked at me in confusion, but that didn't stop me and continued.

I stepped onto a pile of the soldiers' corpses to elevate myself slightly, so they can better see me clearly or maybe I just wanted to experience stepping on multiple corpses, its probably the former, after all, I am short as hell and I haven't yet committed in my arc villain.

Let's continue.

"See that orc over there!" I said, pointing at the orc fighting on the frontlines.

"Gabriel?" an orc replied; he seemed to know that orc.

"Ga-, who's Gabriel?" I replied subconsciously. For an orc, he sure does have a beautiful name, despite his appearance.

No, I understood it as Gabriel, but I bet my naked ass, 'Gabriel' wasn't the word that came out of that orc's mouth.

"That's his name, the guy you just pointed out; his name is Gabriel." The orc responded casually.

I locked into his eyes, and he locked into mine.

"Fine. You see Gabriel over there; he's using a shield, and he has been fighting for over ten minutes now, and you might not have seen it, but I just saw Gabriel kill a soldier using the spear and a large impeccable shield. And he's on his way to kill another one!" That was a lie; I just pointed at any visible orc with a shield on them, and I made sure to highlight the shield lest this muscle for brains would miss it, but Gabriel did indeed last more than your average orc in combat.

While the iron was hot, I kept hitting.

"Now, that orc over there! You see him?" I pointed at another orc without a shield and in the worst condition.

"You mean Markus?" an orc replied.

"Ye-yes, Markus. Now Mar-."

"That's not Markus; I know Markus." Suddenly, an orc cut me off. "And I know that guy as well; his name is Leon, brother of Markus; although I don't know who's the oldest, Markus and Leon are two of the five sons of Alex and Marianne from the Blade Shard Tribe at the foot of Ash Death Mountain," said the orc.

"What! you're doing a census now? Anyway, Leon, brother of Markus, over there is severely injured and, as you can see, dying," I said in an overly dramatic way.

Now we looked like a group of random people commuting together on our way to work and talking or discussing the radio news because, surprise surprise, one of the child actors grew up to be a cunt and an adict, while the orcs at the frontlines were fighting for their lives and the orcs at the back were getting rained by arrows, especially Gabriel, who's sweating in blood due to his injuries.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

We continued our little chit-chat.

"So? I'm not afraid of dying," said the orc.

"Rahh!, that's right!" Another orc exclaimed in support, then multiple orcs voiced their agreement.

"Of course! An orc afraid of dying is not an orc but a disgrace, and to bear our racial characteristics is a sin!" I replied in an even more dramatic way.

"But!" I paused, then continued, "What is even more disgraceful than being afraid of dying in battle? It's to die in the hands of these uncultured, savage meatbags without killing a single one of them!" I roared!

The soldiers noticed my shouting in the middle of the orc crowd but couldn't be bothered to find out.

"This young orc speaks the truth, so young yet so cultured." Multiple orcs finally showed a positive response.

"Now, Leon over there is about to die without killing a single meatbag!" I pointed at Leon, though it's probably not true; it's not far off; besides, he can't hear me anyways, and so I continued, "He can only bitterly hit his bone axe at the enemies' large shield while getting impaled by the enemies' sharp metal sticks, and on the other hand," I pointed at Gabriel, "Gabriel over there has already killed a few of his enemies." Obviously a lie.

"Why do you think that is?" I asked.

"Because Gabriel isn't Markus' brother?" an orc replied.

I stared into that orc's eyes, radiating innocence and confidence. "Well, you're not wrong." I didn't want to disappoint him, so I didn't outright reject his answer.

The orc smiled, seeing how he had nailed it. The orc beside him nudged the orc's shoulder and nodded in approval.

"Another?" I ask again.

"Leon and Gabriel aren't brothers," an orc said, then happily high-fived the orc beside him.

"You just rephrased the other orc's answer, but yes, it's correct. Anyone?" The orc, seeing that his answer was correct, received an approval pat on his shoulder from the orcs around him.

As I was waiting for the answer I wanted to hear, I slightly raised my shield and slowly nudged it forward.

"A shield?"

"Correct, a shield!" I raised my voice high, giving it more life. "Gabriel is equipped with a large shield while Leon, on the other hand, doesn't have any; in other words, Gabriel can last longer and fight more because of the shield he is wielding, while Leon, on the other hand, couldn't because he doesn't have a shield. Do you get it now?"

The orcs exclaimed in their new-found knowledge, but of course the others were still hesitant.

"Now, some of you might still be hesitant, but to prove it to you, somebody or anyone who has a large shield, squeeze your way in to the frontline and replace Leon, lest he die to his injuries and his brother find out that Leon died without killing a single meat bag. He would definitely be disappointed."

"Well, you don't have to worry about disappointing Markus, because he's already dead; he died a few hours ago," an orc said. He was one of Markus's many friends.

"Sheesh, you guys are really making it hard for me. Well, we don't want Leon and Markus' remaining brothers to find out, right?"

"Save your breath, mate; Leon and Markus' brothers died many moons ago." Another orc joined in; he was one of the brothers' many friends.

"Well, shit, what's wrong with this family? Why are most of them either dead or dying? To die before their par-."

"Their parents are also dead." An orc cut in, who was the brothers' parent's batchmate.

"Well, that's just fucking depressing, isn't it? And what in the name of God did this family do? Well, more reason to save Leon to continue his glorious bloodli-."

"Well, his son has recently been born, before he came here." Another orc cut in since he went to Leon's, inviting him to join the horde together.

"Even more reason to save Leon and not leave his son and his son's mother, a fatherless and a wido-."

"The mother died after childbirth, leaving only Leon, Markus, and his son; well, it should be Leon and his son by now," an orc commented, since he was there during the delivery.

"I.. I.. Is it too late to use another orc for an example? And why does everyone here know Leon and his family?"

"What do you mean? Leon and his family are the GOAT, the real GOAT!" An orc exclaimed.

"That's right!" another orc followed.

"Without a doubt!" Another orc doesn't want to be left behind.

"Amen!" Another orc's vocabulary was limited, but he did his best.

Multiple orcs shared Leon and his family's deeds and achievements. It just proved that Leon and his family were the GOAT.

"God damn it, LEON!" I screamed and rushed to the front line. "Don't you fucking dare die on me!"

I pushed those orcs blocking my way and grabbed the back of the almost-dead Leon out of the incoming spears.

"No! I was this close to greatness!" Leon cried in agony as I pulled him over. Well, he was indeed very close to getting a kill, though at the expense of his life.

I then used my shield to block the spears, and my sudden action caught those soldiers off guard for a brief second, but it didn't deter them as they continued with their assault.

I block one of the spears with my large shield and meet them head-on with the other incoming spears.

A spear for a spear. Well, in my case, multiple spears for a spear. I managed to block one incoming spear, while the remaining two spears managed to injure my left torso and my left waist.

On the bright side, I managed to injure one of the soldiers; my spear struck his right torso.

Due to my impulsive attempt to save the almost-dead Leon, the soldier probably forgot that I AM THE DANGER. Joke.

I got lucky and managed to angle my spear better, but as a result, I received injuries in areas that could have been avoided.

But what the hell? If you're going to do it, you might as well do it without half-assing it.

That soldier may only have an injury on the torso, and I bet my left nut that my spear took a chunk of meat on that thrust. That soldier is living in borrowed time; well, all of the soldiers in front of me are.

The soldiers were about to reengage; the injured soldier probably knew his impeding death, so he mustered all the remaining strength while he still had it and lunged forward, using his life as bait again so his companions could have the opportunity to strike my vital areas.

"Predictable, I'm disappointed!" I didn't really predict it, but years of MOBA from my inner me were also integrated during the synchronization, so I had to let out some trash talking when I knew I'm a head.

The once large shield in vertical position was now on horizontal; the shield was large, wide, and thick, so it indeed covered most of my body but exposed my head and my legs, and not to mention, lifting the large shield in this position is heavy as fuck.

The upper hand is mine; I succeeded in blocking most of the attacks; one of them managed to fix its trajectory and aimed for my head, but he missed, thankfully.

My spear once again managed to reach the soldier in front of me and received another thrust from the spear lodging deeply in his torso. I guess this strike finally broke the camel's back, as once I dislodged my spear away, the soldier just collapsed like a sack of rice.

The remaining two, seeing the soldier in front of them collapse, hurriedly filled in the gap, but I won't let them succeed without a price. I tackled them with my shield forward, halting in their attempt, and thrust my spear forward. Either of them is fine, as long as I injured one of them.

The knockback from the tackle has pushed the soldier slightly back, leaving a small gap for my spear to pass through, and by luck, I managed to hit the side neck of the soldier, tearing the skin apart and blood gushing out, and I wasn't aware of it.

The soldier didn't die right away; maybe due to adrenaline, he used everything to push me away and thrust his spear franticly.

The third soldier managed to land his spear, hitting one of my old injuries and reopening the wound, and this time it lodged deeper.

On the other hand, not knowing which part of the body my spear landed on, I was satisfied to know that at least my spear managed to hit the soldier, so I also slowly moved back. Once the soldier successfully pushed me back, he then proceeded to collapse on the ground, and then the third soldier hurriedly covered the gap.

Dumbfounded by the sudden collapse and death of the second soldier, both the third soldier's eyes and mine locked together.

'Dude, what happened to your friend?' I thought.

The soldier readied his large shield to join the incoming shield push, this time with determination to avenge its two companions, while I decided that I had fought enough and further moved back. The three injuries I have received, although not fatal, have still managed to reduce my combat capabilities.

I just have to wait at the back and wait for my wounds to clog up and heal; fully healing my wounds in an hour is impossible. At best, I can wait to stop the bleeding and slightly alleviate my injuries.

I was waiting for one of the soldiers to move forward, but what greeted me was one of the orcs who knew Markus; this time he was wielding a shield and a spear. My previous reckless action must have left a positive impression on the shields.

And that orc wasn't alone; multiple orcs, one by one, started dying at the front lines. What replaced them were orcs with large shields. I already expected one of them to do something like this: 'I like sticks, so I use two sticks'.

One of the orcs is now wielding a shield on each arm. I don't know how he is going to make it work, but seeing as that orc alone is pinning multiple soldiers and unable to deal any slight injuries to the orc, that alone was enough to put those soldiers in a deadlock. Not only that, the double-shielded orc is also somewhat helping those orcs besides him, albeit unintentionally.

Since the large shield was somewhat providing a little cover in a surface area, the soldiers dealing with these orcs have limited space to play with, hence exerting more effort than usual in dealing with these reckless orcs.

"Well, I really didn't expect it would end like this, but hey, it's working."

It was indeed working; orcs would be dying faster than those with large shields, and then an orc with a large shield would replace that dead orc's spot; hence, the frontlines on the orc's side are slowly being replaced by orcs with large shields.

Casualties on the orc side slowly slowed down, while the soldiers were exerting more energy than usual just to take down an orc; hence, fatigue was once again the number one cost of these soldiers' demise.

Little by little, the soldiers are slowly losing ground; their shield walls could hardly maintain themselves from the constant collusion from the orc's shield push.

Compared to the soldier's shield push, these orcs are using these large shields like hammers, continuously colliding with their counterpart.

Their hands, gripping the soldiers, are getting numb from the pay, gasping for air due to constant tension; some are having concussions from accidentally hitting their heads during the rebound from their large shields or their companion's shield at the back.

After all, you can stop or hold the orc from knocking you over, but for how long would you really bet that these orcs would get tired before you?

It may have looked like the orcs were having the upper hand or slowly tilting the scale. Well, you're dead wrong; the scale remained steady; the only thing that changed was the slowing number of deaths on the orcs' side and the soldiers' side.

That's right, the soldiers behind their shield wall are also dying slowly, not because they adopted to or understood the orcs better; but because the orcs were unfamiliar with how to effectively utilize the large shield paired with the spear.

Multiple orcs continued bashing their large shields, forgetting to use their spear. Others would use the large shield for cover, as intended, then counterattack when they felt the spears had struck the large shields, but their execution were a bit clumsy and slow due to being unfamiliar in using a large shield with a spear, giving the soldiers time get in cover of their shield wall.

The orcs, being orcs, found joy in the simple act of smashing their shields against the soldiers'. The sound of metal on metal would keep their blood boiling, and they relished each impact.

Despite this, it is quite obvious that the advantage is still with the soldiers' grasp, is what I thought, but somehow the soldiers' are a bit agitated; I can hear a few loud shouts in an aggressive tone, and every time it reverberated, the soldiers' behind the shield wall, who are holding on, would erratically become aggressive and recklessly trade injuries for an orc's death, sometimes their life.

"Something is really going on around here; from the way the battle is going, their victory is inevitable; what they're doing is just recklessly sacrificing their soldier's life. Are they in a hurry?"

I thought, and then it finally clicked.

"Their commander needs to shit, but can't leave."

Understanding the absurdity of such bizarre tactical decisions, I have decided to cook up a new plan.

"Guys!" I called out. Some of the orcs were bored enough to give a fuck, especially those who were waiting for the orcs in front of them to die.

"Keep using your large shields for cover and use them to lunge forward; using your spears to hit the meatbag's large shields is very ineffective; bashing your shields will weaken the meatbags in front of you; just keep hitting them with the large shields."

I continued.

"Those large shields are heavy; just keep bashing and pushing with your shields, and the meatbags in front of you will slowly die for our gods!"

I pointed at an orc who mindlessly just kept bashing his shield at the shield wall.

The soldier behind it was clearly having a hard time keeping his bearing, and The orc could easily grab the soldier's shield and could yank it away without resistance, but the orc didn't know that; he enjoyed repeatedly bashing those shields.

"Are you talking about Matthe-."

"I don't give a shit about his name!" I roared, cutting that orc off.

"T-T" Matthew definitely heard that.

"Rude!" One of Matthew's friends muttered angrily.

Ignoring them, I continued. "That orc over there is bashing his shield like crazy and the meatbag behind it is about to die to that orc's brilliant use of the shield!"

Seeing the orc's expression as he mindlessly bashed his shield full of ecstasies would add a little more stimulus, and there would be an ahegao plated on that orc's face. Apparently, hearing the soldier's struggling pain behind the shield has kept his blood boiling.

Anyway, it didn't take more convincing as some of the orcs followed suit, and some of those orcs who missed my flash course learned from observation. After all, seeing an orc in front of you doing impeccable results and having the time of his life, you do want to follow once that orc dies.

Over time, more and more orcs finally got the memo. They lunge forward with their heavy shields, smashing into the soldiers with relentless force, like in American football.

Some of the soldiers caught by surprise would get themselves knocked out by the sudden, strong collusion, then quickly die to the orc, which further excites them.

It was like watching someone repeatedly hit a mango tree and hope some fruit would fall off, which they do a lot.

Such scenarios were happening everywhere: the orc's casualties slowed down, while the soldier's erratic display of unreasonable tactics was slowly grinding them down.

It was like one of those games where you’re clearly ahead, but then you make a series of decisions that throw away the game, giving the opposing team a chance a chance to breathe and a possible comeback. Seeing it play out on the battlefield was almost surreal.

Most of the orcs with a shield are doing it; with the orcs' smooth brains, they enjoyed it, and it's working, so why change it?

As the battle dragged on, soldiers were constantly dying trying to break the orc's new offensive strategy. If the soldiers simply remained composed and worked around the orc's mindless bashing, there would be fewer needless deaths.

"Unfortunately, their commander can't hold it in; it better be solid, cause if it's not, well, you have my blessings," I muttered.

Suddenly, the shield wall, battered but still holding, began to shake with massive movements as the sound of horns and drums reverberated across the battlefield.

The once formidable shield wall started to move back, albeit not all of them. The once straight formation, "——", has slowly transformed into an inverted "U" or "n" formation, "n—n—n".

And the orcs, thinking they had finally broken through the shield wall, happily rushed inside the "n" formation. Witnessing the orcs falling for such a trap, I just kept calm, as I never had the thought that by using those previous strategies it would lead us to victory. The real issue from the very beginning, which I wholeheartedly acknowledged, was the orc's shortcomings.

"On the bright side, I at least managed to keep Leon safe; his son should no longer have to worry about growing up without a father." Then, something kind of died inside of me.

"Hmm? Was that a death flag? Yep, scratch that. Leon is leading the orcs deeper inside of the formation; well, Leon Jr., I tried." I let out a deep sigh.

"I swear, one of your family members must have fucked up so badly in their past lives!"