"Disengage from the humans!"
Under the Great Chieftain's command, the Orc Warriors retreated away from the Northwest Legion filled with reluctance, though some certainly felt a sense of relief.
Alba reined in his war horse, his bronze-toned face as gloomy as iron.
He signaled to recall the troops, though this was not a rout. The Orc Army withdrew like receding ocean waves while maintaining a relatively distinct formation, regrouping a mile and a half away. Only a small portion of human artillery could threaten them at this range, and even if shells reached here, they lacked any real accuracy.
Battle flags fluttered and drums rumbled as the orcs still gathered their momentum.
"They're not retreating; they're buying time."
Paul narrowed his eyes. No matter what tactics the enemy intended to deploy, as long as they did not retreat, it suited his wishes.
He immediately ordered the entire army to switch from the defensive Hollow Square back to the attack line, preparing to press forward in the direction of the orcs' retreat.
Well-trained soldiers rapidly shifted formations, and the forest of bayonets once again transformed into a line of steel defense. Artillerymen seized the moment to move their artillery forward, dark muzzles pointing directly at the opposing orc main force.
At that exact moment, urgent brass bugle calls sounded from high above-the rhythm signaling enemy attack.
Everyone raised their heads in unison. The sentinel on the observation balloon was waving signal flags frantically.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack from the rear!" a staff officer cried out in alarm.
Paul turned sharply, raised his telescope, and distinctly observed rolling dust in the distance. A massive force of orcs light cavalry was outflanking them from the rear flanks of the Northwest Legion, the sand kicked up by their hooves blotting out the sky.
During