The Ninth Ringwraith Descends

"We broke through!" The city's defenders stared longingly at the Knight Order outside, who were flaunting their might. Having circled around, the Knight Order was now calmly adjusting its direction. Their armor and horse armor were covered in dripping Orc blood, shattered limbs, and fragments of organs. Purple-black blood slowly slid down the gaps in their armor, gathering beneath the horses' bellies into a tiny stream...

"Three sixth-tier opponents," Omsk said evenly, neither hurried nor emotional.

"How do we fight, Your Excellency? We'll follow your lead!" The Knights calmly watched the Orc army trying to regroup before them. Calling it regrouping was giving them too much credit. Their formation had nearly been slaughtered into collapse—what army organization was left? Commanders did not know their soldiers, and soldiers did not know their commanders. The bloody path through their midst had not even "healed" yet. Omsk could practically see straight through the entire Orc army at a glance!

Clearly, this army that had already been plowed through once was no longer worth the Knights' attention. If it had been a human army, they might have needed to exercise some caution. Orcs? Forget it. The fact that they had not collapsed already meant they were elite! The Knights gazed at the panicked Orcs with eyes that disregarded life and death, while Omsk's thoughts had long since drifted elsewhere.

Those Orcs were nothing to fear, but the three sixth-tier enemies among them were troublesome. If the Knight Order charged through them, things might get dicey. Just as Omsk was weighing the pros and cons, an icy chill suddenly enveloped his heart.

"Since you're here, stop hiding. That repulsive evil aura of yours can't be concealed even by dimensional space!" Omsk said helplessly, rubbing his forehead.

"Heh heh, I thought I hid myself quite well."