Burning the Boats

Meanwhile.

Within the Northern Great Plains, the war between the Sacred Co-Prosperity Kingdom and the Beastkin Empire was not confined to the City of Guardianship.

The Beastkin Empire's army of four million, along with the major clans and tribes already living across the Northern Great Plains, launched wave after wave of attacks along the thousand-mile defensive line surrounding the City of Guardianship.

However, with their main forces concentrated at the City of Guardianship and lacking the cover of priests and other spellcasting professions, they achieved very little. Instead, after ten days of relentless assaults, the Beastkin Empire suffered a horrifying number of casualties—hundreds of thousands.

In the past, such losses would have meant nothing to the Beastkin Empire. Not to mention its peak era, even before it lost the Northern Great Plains, such losses would have been insignificant.

But things were different now. Over the past thirty years, the Beastkin Empire had endured massive calamities and disasters in succession: drought across the North Continent, the great battle against the Human Alliance, magical beast riots, the hellish Demon Disaster, and more. It had already reached the point of exhaustion.

Perhaps they had not lost many of their powerful experts, but their population had plummeted by more than seventy percent. Years of war had also inflicted devastating losses upon their young and middle-aged generations, to the point that they now faced the danger of a generational gap.

Otherwise, given the Beastkin Empire's usual methods of warfare, how could the royal elites possibly have cooperated with ordinary Orcs to besiege a city?

It was because the Beastkin Empire no longer had enough cannon fodder.

Inside a massive tent.

More than a dozen fierce-looking, powerful Orc experts sat in stone chairs, their gazes lowered and their expressions grim.

Among them was Salit, who had