Game of the World Tree

【 THOSE DAMNED LONG-EARS! 】

Based on the reports he gathered from the Elven Forest, the Elves had formed an alliance with the Broodmother of the Crypt Spiders.

Said to dwell deep within the underground caverns beneath the Dark Mountains, this Spider Queen possessed strength on par with legendary-rank existences.

This report was also now confirmed, as over the past ten days, this monstrous Spider Queen had made frequent appearances alongside the Elven army in some of their operations.

Although it hadn’t directly attacked the orcs, it repeatedly emerged from underground to shatter the defensive walls of settlements. As a result, many tribes hadn’t even had time to activate their divine wards before their defenses were rendered useless…

It was no exaggeration to say that this Spider Queen was responsible for at least a third of the reason why the Elves were able to break through many of their strongholds so easily.

And without a doubt…

This time, it was also the main reason why the defenses of both Sandwind and Sandrock Tribes had easily crumbled.

Most likely, just as before, it had burrowed underground and dug tunnels leading directly into the inner base of these tribes.

Looking back now, he should have realized something was wrong the moment the numbers of their main army had thinned. They had probably sent some of their forces to launch an attack, using underground tunnels to bypass Sandstorm City and invade the tribes stationed at their rear.

As a Golden-rank warrior, he knew all too well the horror of facing a magical beast that possessed legendary-rank strength.

What made matters worse and perhaps, the most troublesome aspect of dealing with this particular monster was that this Spider Queen was practically invincible once it dug itself underground!

To it, any crude fortifications they built were no different from paper structures…

Unless a tribe possessed a complete divine barrier like that of Sandstorm City, which could even extend its protection to the ground beneath their feet, there was simply no way for anyone below the rank of a Demigod to stop it from tunneling through the earth.

“Damn it… how did the Elves manage to tame a beast like this? If I recall correctly, these Crypt Spiders are incredibly proud creatures. They would never allow themselves to be commanded by beings weaker than themselves!”

“Could it be… that it was personally subdued by that ‘one’ from the Elven Forest?”

Bazaan’s expression darkened.

Of course, no creature was without weaknesses.

If there was anything Bazaan could take comfort in, it was the fact that these Crypt Spiders, despite their terrifying strength, had vulnerabilities that could be exploited. These creatures were particularly susceptible to sunlight, which weakened them considerably, and holy magic, which directly counters their dark affinity.

Once these monsters were forced to fight on the surface during daylight, their immense power would diminish dramatically. Furthermore, when facing priests with the ability to cast divine spells, they would be severely restricted, as holy magic was a potent force against them.

Otherwise, if he had to face an army with a legendary beast and no legendary-rank warriors of his own, Bazaan truly wouldn’t know how to respond…

Having thought this through, the Oracle King made up his mind.

Things could not go on like this!

The surrounding tribes would be doomed if the Elves were allowed to continue their campaign unchecked.

He had to go on the offensive.

His army greatly outnumbered the Elves.

If he could eliminate their main army, then their legendary beast would no longer pose much of a serious threat, as the latter could be easily dealt with using either sunlight or holy magic.

With that in mind, Bazaan’s expression turned sharp.

He turned to his attendants and gave his command:

“Pass down my order! All Orc Warriors are to prepare for battle. The army will rest for one day, then assemble at dawn tomorrow for a full-scale assault on the Elves!”

However, just as Bazaan finished issuing his orders, an aged voice interrupted his messenger:

“Your Majesty, you must not!”

Bazaan turned, his expression growing even darker.

“Why?”

“Chief Shaman, tell me—what’s your reason?! The nearby tribes are in danger! Are you saying we should just sit back and let the Elves run rampant?!”

He roared.

Seeing the fury burning beneath Bazaan’s restrained expression, the Chief Shaman sighed.

He traced a bow-shaped symbol over his chest, then spoke with fervent devotion:

“This… is the will of our Divine Father.”

“His Highness has sensed a familiar divine power among the Elves. It’s likely that ‘one’ from the Elven Forest has already arrived and is hiding herself among them. Therefore, until we fulfill our God’s will, He ordered that our main army must not act recklessly.”

Upon hearing this, Bazaan’s expression shifted uncertainly.

He clenched his teeth, struggling to suppress his frustration.

“But what about the surrounding tribes…?”

“Your Majesty!”

The Chief Shaman cut him off without hesitation.

Whilst shaking his head slowly, he spoke with a grave and resolute tone, each word laced with unshakable conviction:

“For the sake of our Divine Father’s plan… certain sacrifices are necessary. This is the will of our Patron Deity and we must not waver.”

“The future of the orcs is forever tied to our Divine Father. As long as His Highness becomes strong enough, even if only one orc remains, we will still have a way to rise up again.”

“Our Divine Father… is our true future.”

The Chief Shaman’s expression was grave and resolute.

After speaking, he added:

“Of course, the news of the Elves attacking the nearby tribes must be kept from the citizens of Sandstorm city and the main army for now….we cannot allow panic to spread and our morale to collapse.”

Sandstorm City was the central hub of the surrounding area, which was deeply connected to the nearby tribes. Many of its residents, as well as the soldiers stationed here, were originally from these tribes…

Thus, it would be disastrous if they ever found out that their home tribes were in danger.

Bazaan stared at him for a full three minutes before letting out a long sigh.

“Ha…”

“Then… we’ll just have to wait a little longer.”

༺⟐༻

The Royal Court ultimately made the decision to continue waiting.

However, after seeing that the orc main army didn’t have plans to mobilize, the Elves’ activities became even more audacious…

Within the next three days, a series of troubling reports flooded into the Royal Court. One after another, news arrived that several more tribes located behind Sandstorm City had also come under attack.

Just like the previous incidents, the Elves struck without warning, emerging directly from underground with swift speed and precise coordination. Before any reinforcements could even be called, those tribes were quickly overwhelmed and annihilated.

In only a matter of days, eight entire tribes surrounding Sandstorm City had been wiped out by the elven army.

Each of these tribes had at least 3,000 people, with the largest numbering over 7,000.

Altogether, nearly 50,000 lives had been lost…

Even though King Bazaan had anticipated such losses when he chose to wait, he still found himself deeply unsettled as these mounting casualties were reported one after another.

“These tribes around Sandstorm City account for nearly a third of our total output… If this continues, even if we win in the end, the progress of us Orcs will be crippled for at least twenty years!”

He voiced his concern once again to the Chief Shaman.

“Your Majesty, we must endure! Now more than ever, we must endure! Victory in the end will surely belong to us!”

The old Shaman solemnly tried to console him.

But the faint trembling of the priest’s beard betrayed his true state of mind which far less calm than his words suggested.

However, even that fragile facade of composure did not last long.

Because just a few days later, news of the elves’ brutal annihilation of the surrounding tribes had already spread like wildfire throughout the city…

And with it came waves of unrest, fueled further by the growing rumors that the Royal Court had chosen to sit still in waiting, doing nothing while the surrounding tribes perished one after another.

But it didn’t stop there…

As the news spread and grew increasingly distorted through word of mouth, the original facts were gradually forgotten, twisted, and reshaped until they had warped into a completely outlandish rumor:

It claimed that the Royal Court was afraid of the elven army!

In order to buy time and delay the elves’ advance, their leaders had chosen to completely abandon the nearby tribes to their demise!

Soon, the whispers turned into shouts, claiming that the Royal Court had fallen!

They had become cold and selfish, driven by their own interests, yet cowardly in the face of the elven threat!

When this rumor broke out, the fragile stability within Sandstorm City instantly collapsed into full-blown unrest.

Even the garrisoned army began to show signs of disorder…

The Orcs revered strength above all else, and they despised cowards more than anything!

So the very idea that their leaders, the ones meant to guide them in battle, had abandoned their own people, was a huge stain on their honor.

“Damn it! Who leaked this? And who’s been spreading all these rumors?!”

King Bazaan roared furiously as he read the report in his hands.

The soldier who delivered the message could only kneel, shaking with fear, too afraid to utter a single word.

Even the old Shaman standing nearby remained silent, his expression just as grim.

Currently, the rumors were growing increasingly absurd, to the point where they now implicated their God. Whispers had already spread throughout the city, with some claiming that it was actually their Divine Father who had ordered the abandonment of the destroyed tribes.

Well…

While this was not entirely untrue in essence, there were some things that should never be spoken aloud, lest they shake the very foundations of their faith.

“This cannot go on. If this continues, we won’t even need the elves to destroy us as we’ll tear ourselves apart first!”

Bazaan said in a low, heavy voice.

The Chief Shaman ground his teeth in frustration.

“Curses! How did this leak happen?!”

Just then, new information arrived for the two leaders.

“I have a report, Your Majesty! We’ve finally captured the criminals who were spreading those rumors!”

A soldier reported.

Bazaan’s expression darkened as his voice thundered with fury.

“Who was it?!”

“…It wasn’t one of us. It was one of the blackmarket merchants from the Underground who came to do business these past few days!”

The soldier replied.

“A merchant?!”

Both King Bazaan and the Chief Shaman were taken aback.

“That’s correct, Your Majesty! And during the interrogation… we managed to force even more information out of them!”

“They confessed that it was actually the elves who hired them, offering a generous sum to deliberately spread those rumors throughout Sandstorm City!”

The elves?!

For a moment, King Bazaan was struck speechless for a couple of moments before his face twisted with utmost fury:

“Despicable! Shameless…!”

But the soldier had not yet finished his report:

“There’s more, Your Majesty… We also managed to gather some intelligence regarding the elves.”

“Intelligence?”

Bazaan’s eyes narrowed dangerously, his fury simmering just beneath the surface as he forced himself to remain composed.

“…Speak.”

The soldier hesitated briefly before continuing, his voice heavy with tension.

“The elves…seemed to have been secretly purchasing large quantities of magical materials from various merchants. And according to the blackmarket merchants we interrogated, the specific materials they’ve been collecting seem to match those used for constructing teleportation arrays.”

The hall fell deathly silent.

Teleportation arrays?

King Bazaan’s brows furrowed deeply.

“They’re planning to build teleportation arrays? Impossible. Our Divine Father has restricted the use of spatial transmission…”

He muttered to himself.

But midway through his words, his voice abruptly died in his throat.

His body stiffened as if struck by lightning.

His face drained of color, first turning red with suppressed anger, then pale with dread, and finally sickly green as a terrifying thought crept into his mind.

His hands clenched into fists, while beads of sweat began to form on his brow. And his gaze grew darker and heavier with an unprecedented weight.

In that moment, realization dawned on him.

His expression shifted.

Slowly, King Bazaan turned to look at his Chief Shaman.

At the same time, he noticed the Chief Shaman was staring back at him.

Their faces bore the exact same grim expression.

“Those damned, cunning long-ears!”

The curse left both their mouths at almost the exact same time.

— 529 —

〘 PREVIOUS 〙

〘 NEXT 〙

— —