Battling an Eighth-Order Behemoth: The Bait

Beyond Three-Hump Mountain stretched a vast, desolate plain.

The orc army halted a dozen kilometers from the foot of the mountain, gazing at the distant range.

Beneath the gloomy sky, a thin layer of black mist shrouded Three-Hump Mountain. The entire range lay silent, without birdsong or the chirping of insects, without any trace of life. Only a cold, sinister aura seeped from deep within the mountain, weighing like a physical burden on every orc's heart.

"Your Highness, this is Three-Hump Mountain." The Fox Clan member stood beside Ormond, speaking in a shrill voice, narrow eyes slightly squinted and nostrils twitching. "I can already smell the Stele Demons inside. There are many of them, with all sorts of auras. Seizing the treasures within will not be easy."

Ormond did not reply. His oppressive golden eyes remained fixed on the distant mountains, his gaze seeming to pierce straight through the black mist.

He spoke, his voice deep and imperious. "Can mere Stele Demons stop my Golden Behemoth army? I'm leading this expedition myself. Let's see who dares stand in my way!"

With that, Ormond swept his great hand forward. "Advance!"

"Roar!!!"

The orc army roared in unison. The sound surged skyward and echoed through the valleys. Their eyes burned with fervor, their fighting spirit boiling, their muscles trembling slightly with excitement.

Within the Golden Behemoth Clan, His Highness Ormond bore the title "God of War." He had won every battle and never suffered defeat.

Whether mountains of blades, seas of fire, or the depths of hell awaited them, they feared nothing so long as His Highness Ormond stood at their head.

The orcs strode swiftly toward Three-Hump Mountain. Their footsteps thundered like war drums, heavy iron boots striking the plain and throwing up clouds of dust.

Yet halfway there, Ormond suddenly