Below a cliff in the land of evil.

The six hundred militiamen, several dozen mercenaries, and over a hundred elite students no longer doubted Rody's command ability or his leadership. Even many of the griffin riders were astounded. If it weren't for the fact that the heads of three hundred orcs were piled up right in front of them, they wouldn't have believed that Rody, with just over a hundred people, could have completely annihilated three hundred orc warriors.

Stanley and his group were triumphantly dividing the spoils of war, even competing for the seemingly useless orc leather armors. The spoils always held a special significance.

Those who could write were busily jotting down in their magic journals: on a certain year, month, and day, they followed Sergeant Rody and killed three hundred orc soldiers with just a hundred people, including twenty-five berserkers and two shamans. Some recorded the battle in great detail, describing how many times they struck the berserkers and how the enemies still fought back with their intestines dragging.

Some dedicated their victory to their loved ones, fiancées, or girls they secretly admired...

Before this, no one had imagined that they could actually win this battle, let alone annihilate the enemy so completely and neatly, including Chris, who had the most confidence in Rody. Of course, strategies like luring the Flame Lions to attack the orc camp and striking when they were embroiled in a bloody battle were beyond their imagination.

And even if imagined, they wouldn't dare to execute such a plan.

Apart from Rody, the daring one, no one else had the courage to implement such a plan, certainly not Lopeck, the foolishly brave.

"I've already reported the Holy Cross coordinates to the Sanctus headquarters. Those who want to follow me, pick up your weapons. Those who don't wish to come with us can stay here and wait for reinforcements," Rody said to the griffin riders. "I'll give you one minute to decide. Those who are coming can go to Stanley to get weapons and armor. And the same goes for everyone; I won't stop anyone who wants to stay and wait for reinforcements."

"You have to cure us..." Captain Xiangdier, knowing he was poisoned, although not dead yet, was really scared.

"This poison can be cured with holy water, it won't be fatal for a day or two," Rody snorted. He had used a bit of corpse poison on this coward, just to make Captain Xiangdier more compliant. As for their lives, he still found them useful.

"Boss, it's time to go," Stanley said, signaling the six militia leaders to lead the ancient camels. Seeing the griffin riders still lingering, he reminded them.

"Jesse, take a few men and ride the griffins to scout for the enemy!" Rody glanced at Chris, who looked a bit pale. After enchanting everyone's weapons and armors and then going through a big battle, he seemed a bit drained. Chris, however, waved his hand, indicating he was fine. Rody paused for a moment and said, "Rest on the ancient camel-drawn grain carts, you can't afford to fall ill at this time."

"I'm fine..." Chris replied weakly, but he didn't overexert himself and did as Rody suggested.

Out of admiration for the hero, a few griffin riders chose to follow Rody. Despite their companions' lengthy persuasion, they didn't want to return as deserters. They hoped to follow Rody and clear their names with victory. Though risky, this decision brought them some peace of mind. They chose the path of heroes, even though the chances of survival were slim, but with no regrets.

After a day's march, Rody ordered the troops to rest and then flew back to the original gathering spot alone on a griffin. He felt uneasy and needed to check for himself. Indeed, a chilling scene unfolded before him.

After reporting their location, the first to arrive weren't human reinforcements but orc wolf riders. Everyone waiting for reinforcements, except for the leader Xiangdier, was killed.

More than ten wolf riders took Xiangdier away, while nearly a hundred others followed the direction Xiangdier had pointed out, in pursuit. Unfortunately for them, Rody and his group had taken a detour and deliberately walked through a stream, obscuring the massive footprints of the ancient camels with rainwater. Especially Rody, who had Jesse and his team kill small animals at every fork in the road, scattering blood to mislead the wolves' noses.

The wolf riders were fast and had keen senses, but in the vast evil forest, with its cliffs and hills and magical beasts everywhere, finding Rody's marching troops was no easy task.

Rody smiled coldly, controlling the griffin, circling, and then silently descending above the heads of five scattered wolf riders. The giant wolves sensed danger and barked loudly, but it was too late.

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Psychic magic spells 'Hatred' and 'Frenzy' erupted, and the wolf rider's squad leader was almost instantly hacked into mincemeat by his own comrades in a moment of madness. The five giant wolves also furiously attacked each other. When other wolf rider squads arrived, they were horrified to see this brutal infighting still ongoing. The last blood-soaked orc, after killing all its companions, even attacked other wolf riders.

Just as this mad creature was killed, similar insane howls echoed from the other side of the forest.

Within an hour, more than thirty of the hundred-plus wolf riders perished in this damp forest. The remaining wolf riders gathered together, terrified, and retreated. They weren't afraid of death and could bravely fight any enemy, but they feared this horrific infighting, this madness that was even crazier than bloodthirsty berserkers under a shaman's spell.

They saw it as a curse from the gods and decided to retreat. In the orcs' hearts, gods are invincible and deserve full reverence, regardless of the deity.

When Rody returned to the temporary camp, everyone was still sound asleep, except for the elite students on guard duty. The others were exhausted from the overnight battle, being scared, and a day of circuitous marching, leaving them severely drained.

Despite only using branches to sweep away tracks and scattering leaves to disguise their trail, the militiamen were still extremely tired.

"How is it?" Chris, draped in a blanket, waited for Rody in front of the fire. Seeing Rody return with a troubled expression, he nodded and said, "I guessed this outcome. If there were no traitors among us humans, the orc army couldn't have possibly known the exact location of the Shield Camp. Did the reinforcements retreat under the orcs' siege?"

"The human reinforcements haven't arrived yet, but the orc army did," Rody replied with a faint smile. "I took care of a few of them on the way."

"It's not surprising to arrive late without the Shield Camp's teleportation station," Chris reassured softly. "If Lot hadn’t received your message, I believe reinforcements would have come, especially since you also messaged General Quentin. He definitely wouldn't ignore it."

"I'm very worried about General Quentin's safety," Rody nodded. "The enemy hidden within the Human Alliance far exceeds our imagination!"

"With you leading us, I don't think there's anything to fear. Let's keep going this way, and we will surely make it out of the land of evil on our own," Chris said, then closed his eyes to sleep, seemingly exhausted from waiting for Rody. Rody shook his head, covered Chris properly with the blanket, and started meditating to recover his depleted spiritual energy.

For five consecutive days, Rody led the team through the land of evil, circumventing territories of powerful magical beasts and evading the pursuit of orc wolf riders in treacherous terrain.

When encountering smaller groups, he and Chris would sneak attack and kill them at night.

Chris seemed to have a natural understanding of what Rody needed at any moment, and the two cooperated seamlessly.

When facing orc troops of several hundred, Rody and Chris would lure powerful magical beasts to intrude upon the orc troops during their rest. Although the magical beasts were often killed or driven away, the orc troops were significantly weakened, either retreating to recuperate or staying put to wait for reinforcements. Once, Rody even led fifty elite students riding griffins to attack a hundred-strong orc detachment.

Because the magical beasts had just attacked, only about a hundred orcs remained, and exhausted, they were easily overwhelmed by Rody's lightning-fast assault.

Rody's psychic magic had a great effect on the orcs, whether it was the group fear of 'Heart-Pounding Terror,' the morale suppression of 'Unwilling to Fight,' or the madness of 'Frenzied Battle,' causing the orcs immense trouble. The elite students, under the support of psychic spells like 'Joyous Inspiration' and 'Bloodthirsty Battle,' demonstrated greater fighting capabilities.

Chris's natural magic blessings were also a huge help, temporarily enhancing everyone's strength and agility nearly tenfold. Although the effect was short-lived, it was highly effective for their attacks.

With fifty elite students as a unit, riding griffins and repeatedly harassing and attacking, the orc scouts suffered heavy casualties.

However, the orcs soon deployed their air force, consisting of large bats skilled in hunting and night battles. Rody and his group could not directly confront them, so they resorted to using the strategy of fleeing far distances, driving the ancient camels with full supplies of food, and heading deeper into the land of evil. The orcs could not find them, but they blocked the return route at the fifth station.

Clearly, having learned of Rody's presence as a military genius from the traitor's information, the orcs were determined to eliminate him.

The Human Alliance and the orcs engaged in fierce battles at the fifth station. Magic archmages were sent to teleport strong warriors into the evil forest, intending to retrieve Rody. But the orc army's powerful figures also mobilized, hunting while preventing the human powerhouses from finding Rody, leading to continuous bloody battles.

At the Sanctus Fortress, in the lowest level of the magic tower.

The old soldier-turned-Grand Marshal had transformed this place into his own command center. According to him, unless the traitor managed to assassinate him, a Great Sword Emperor, they would not be able to disrupt frontline communications.

He was extremely angry about the traitor's leaks, considering it the greatest disgrace in human history.

"Five days, it's been five days!" The Grand Marshal scolded his generals, grumbling, "Tell me, what progress have you made? How many orcs have you killed? Not a single one of you has brought me any good news. When your kings and the Pope ask me about the war, what am I supposed to tell them? Oh, should I say that, apart from a hundred logistics soldiers and six hundred militiamen completely annihilating three hundred orc warriors, all of you generals are very brave, even though your casualties are more than five times greater, but you have shown glory and loyalty to the deity of light, so failure is temporary, and ultimate victory will definitely be ours? Is that what I should tell them?”

The generals were scolded terribly but couldn't retort.

"I know the orcs are tough to deal with, I know they fight fiercely, I know they are physically strong!" The old soldier raised his amputated arm, shouting, "This arm was bitten off by a powerful orc! But how did I retaliate? I killed it and hung its head outside my tent. Doesn't anyone among you have the capability to bring back the enemy's head and hang it under a horse's neck to cheer everyone up? Millions of people are watching you; they have donated everything for the fight, hoping you bring them good news of victory, even if it's a minor one!"

"Yes, Grand Marshal," the generals stood at attention.

"Report," a guard entered and saluted.

"I want to hear some good news, like finding that kid Rody or even just their previous campsite to know they are still alive," the Grand Marshal took a deep breath and said, "If it's something else, or a damned failure, let me finish scolding before you speak!"

"We haven't found the campsite, but just now, the signal that was lost for five days started calling the headquarters again..." Before the guard could finish, the Grand Marshal immediately leaped forward, and the generals also excitedly ran over, eager to hear what the miraculous Rody would say this time. In the current deadlock, not only the common people but also the generals needed some good news to bolster their confidence.

"Calling Sanctus headquarters, I am Logistics Sergeant Rody, calling..."

"Quickly connect to this miraculous kid’s signal, let's hear what news he has brought back! My goodness, the god of fortune hasn't forgotten my prayers, letting this lad survive!" the Grand Marshal exclaimed excitedly.