The smoke of Blackwater Lake's battlefield had yet to disperse when Great Chieftain Alba issued the order to retreat.
The royal encampment's guards silently relayed the command through the night, and the massive Orcish army began slowly moving east.
The battlefield was strewn with corpses. Supply wagons rolled silently past, Orcish soldiers dragging the wreckage of Siege Weapons, while the wounded groaned incessantly on their stretchers.
When they had first arrived, their surging morale had been like a black tide. Now, only silent exhaustion and the gloom of defeat remained.
Alba rode atop a tall War Horse and took one last look back at the Aldo Army's fortresses.
The four fortresses stood in silence beneath the morning light, like four iron spikes driven into the grassland. On the calm surface of the lake, the outlines of the gunboats were clearly visible.
The Great Chieftain already knew that the loss of Blackwater Lake was inevitable. The Aldo People had not only seized the water source but also taken the strategic initiative in the western grasslands.
All he could do was withdraw the royal encampment's strength into the heart of the grasslands, build a new line of defense, and stop the humans' iron hooves from advancing farther into the grasslands.
"Send the order!" His voice was hoarse, yet still imposing. "All tribes around Blackwater Lake are to move east with the royal encampment. This land has been defiled. It is no longer suitable for Orcish habitation."
Yet after the order was issued, few responded.
When the royal encampment's messengers reached the various tribal camps, the answers they received varied.
Some old-line tribes, such as the Wolf Fang Tribe and Iron Hoof Tribe, immediately began packing their tents and driving their livestock, following the royal encampment eastward. They regarded Alba as the overlord