As the deceitful mercenary band traversed a moderately sized hill, they discovered the shaded side sloped slightly downwards. At the foot lay a lively, bubbling stream, its clear waters joyously frothing, splashing the soil on both banks.

On the damp, mud-soaked riverbank, a crude encampment, adorned with abstract and violent art, stood tall.

The orc encampment was exceedingly simple, consisting merely of several sharpened tree branches and trunks erected as defenses. They supported fresh beast hides, riddled with holes from insects, to serve as shelter. Annoying flies incessantly buzzed around several "beast-hide tents," occasionally being swatted away by the lazy green-skinned figures patrolling between them. The guards, numbering about a dozen, strolled lazily among the tents, occasionally swatting away blood-sucking insects. Their attention focused on several humans situated in the center of the camp, brandishing their axes threateningly whenever they passed through that area, intimidating the hapless captives.

"No wonder they're orcs. This style is as crude as it gets," Avi remarked wryly at the scene. "We've been cautious for so long, and here they are, sleeping soundly in such a godforsaken place. Irony at its finest."

Most of his team members behind him wore expressions of trepidation—the sight of the orc marauders' camp brought back many brutal memories. The fear planted when they escaped from the orcs in their childhood was not easily dispelled.

Rafe stared at the crude encampment for a while before uttering words that would echo in Avi's mind for a year.

"Boss, these green-skins seem to have the advantage in terrain. Shouldn't we wait till nightfall to strike?"

Avi looked at Rafe in disbelief. "Impressive, Rafe. You actually know about terrain advantages and night raids. Where did you learn that?"

"I overheard you mumbling in your sleep last night when I got up to take a leak," Rafe replied, flashing a bright smile.

Perhaps this was all karma. Avi thought to himself that he should have given Rafe a bit more intelligence back then—the thought lingered in his mind.

"Their terrain advantage is only superficial," Avi said, patting Rafe's shoulder and pointing at the orc encampment. "Their camp is quite loosely constructed, with just a few wooden spikes serving as defenses. These can hinder cavalry mobility, but such low-density obstacles won't affect infantry at all—that's one thing."

Upon hearing this, Rafe immediately tethered his horse to a small tree and took his weapon off the saddle, holding it in his hand as he continued to listen.

"Secondly, a camp should ideally be built in a location with a secure rear and a broad field of vision. Although this camp is close to the river, its rear is this steep slope. Anyone emerging from here can attack them from a higher vantage point."

"Thirdly, the ground where their camp is situated has been soaked into mush by the river water. Once under attack, these green-skins would slip or even fall due to the muddy ground, unable to prepare for defense in time."

"Finally, these guys are leaderless orcs. They only use 'me thunk' to explain everything and charge like wild boars in a fight. There's no need to fear them mounting a counterattack using camp defenses, especially since they hardly have any defenses to speak of."

Avi's words were not only directed at Rafe but also to the team members behind him. Regardless of whether these analyses were correct, they could still boost morale, and besides, they were accurate.

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As expected, the "Our Morale" displayed in the upper left corner of Avi's vision had returned to "Confident," which was a good sign.

Low morale not only increased the risk of soldiers deserting but also affected their combat efficiency. Soldiers lacking confidence were more likely to make mistakes in close combat, while those with high morale were more inclined to rise up and fight fiercely in adversity.

Not only was it the "Lore" skill that informed Avi, but also the reminders on the panel.

It proved to be effective.

Next to Avi, Rafe was full of enthusiasm and boiling with excitement.

He clenched his fists and vigorously patted Avi's shoulder, saying loudly, "Boss, you're absolutely right! I think we can smash them if we charge down now!"

With such a loud voice, even a semi-deaf elderly person could perceive his presence, let alone the young greenskins in the camp.

The orcs shouted curses and insults at the figures above them. For them, whether those figures were enemies didn't matter; as long as they were humans, they were destined to be slaves and provisions.

Seeing that the greenskins had already picked up their weapons and were preparing for battle, Avi could only rub his ears, which were numb from the noise.

He drew his long sword from his back and raised it high into the sky, "Everyone, charge—!"

Despite the haste, the soldiers still raised their weapons and shouted as they charged forward following Avi's command.

According to the arrangements Avi usually gave them, the Imperial spearmen charged at the forefront, while the Imperial swordsmen held their swords and shields, ready to attack the enemy when they approached.

Despite having just acquired the "Iron Body" skill, Avi had no intention of leading the charge.

Instead, he stood halfway up the hill, like an Imperial general he had once seen, with his sword half-buried in the ground, hands grasping the hilt, watching his soldiers and the greenskins charging at each other.

Rafe, as usual, was at the forefront. When the two armies clashed, the Imperial spearmen quickly stopped and formed a spear wall.

Eighteen long spears were lined up like an iron wall, with sharp spearheads gleaming, emitting an intimidating chill.

On the flanks of the spearmen were the swordsmen with swords and shields, and on the left was Rafe, excitedly wielding his greatsword.

Even the fierce greenskins couldn't help but hesitate in the face of this formation, slowing their charge.

But they didn't hesitate for long. A burly orc stepped forward, wielding his sword and shouting, "What can you skinny monkeys do? I reckon all we need to do is stomp on you!"

His words inspired the greenskins' fighting spirit, and they raised their weapons again, yelling wildly as they charged towards the spear formation, resembling a wave of green rushing towards a dam.

Watching this scene, Avi smirked. "Now it's your turn to taste slaughter."

The bulky, powerful green bodies collided with the long spears, becoming kebabs.

The spearmen leaned their spears against the ground, relying on the power of the earth to withstand the successive impacts of the greenskins.

The first greenskin pierced by the long spear was still breathing, futilely swinging his rusty sword or battle axe, trying to kill the skinny monkey clutching a "toothpick" in vain.

But no matter how he swung his weapon, he only hit the air.

Seeing the frontline and second-line greenskins being defeated one after another, the remaining orcs began to try to flank from the sides of their kind to attack.

The green tide split into two, attempting to overwhelm and break the dam. All of this was visible to Avi.

He glanced at the morale display on the system. Enemy morale: I'm going to crush these skinny monkeys!

Our morale: The battle is going well, and we're highly motivated. Both morale and the situation were favorable for us, making it the perfect time for a countercharge.

Avi pulled his sword out of the ground and prepared to join the battle. He gripped the hilt with both hands, sprinting forward at full speed, shouting, "Swordsmen, charge—!"

Receiving Avi's command, Rafe charged into the greenskin line like a man possessed.

Ordinary greenskins were easily sent flying before him, as if they were humans.

Only a few large orcs managed to hold their ground. Behind Rafe, the Imperial swordsmen led by Avi also rushed forward.

The ensuing battle was like cutting melons and vegetables.

Although the surrounded greenskins were still ferocious, facing enemies from two directions left them powerless.

The swordsmen adeptly pushed forward with shield and sword, leaving a bloody wound on each greenskin with every strike. As the last big orc fell to the ground with a crash, Avi once again raised his blood-stained sword— Victory was ours!