Rendezvous and Trap

Half a day later, the two large forces arrived at the outskirts of Three-Hump Mountain one after another.

Dust billowed across the Wasteland as the Orc army surged in from two different directions like twin torrents, finally converging at the foot of the mountain.

The clatter of iron boots and beastly roars intertwined. Tens of thousands of warriors stood in formation, banners snapping in the wind and killing intent soaring into the sky, instantly transforming the once-silent Wasteland into a grim military camp.

Ormond stood at the very front, his golden fur stirring faintly in the wind. Seeing the two forces arrive, he strode forward, his gaze sweeping over the two leaders before he gave a slight nod.

"Elder Gu He, Viruth."

The difference in his attitude toward the two could be heard from the way he addressed them.

Gu He was an elder of the Primordial Dragon Clan. His strength was no weaker than Ormond's, perhaps even slightly greater. Toward an Imperial Clan member of equal standing, Ormond was willing to call him "Elder," a basic show of respect between evenly matched experts.

As for Viruth, to be honest, the Golden Behemoth Clan had always looked down on scrawny "bean sprouts" like the Eternal Ice Silkworms.

Those slender bodies lacked even a trace of the strength an Orc ought to possess. They looked even more effeminate than human women.

In his eyes, the Eternal Ice Silkworm Clan had only entered the ranks of the Nine Great Imperial Clans because of their bizarre ice abilities and long lives. In a frontal battle, they were not even worthy of carrying his boots.

Calling Viruth by name was already giving him face.

Gu He understood Ormond's arrogant nature. Though he felt somewhat helpless, he said nothing.

Viruth, meanwhile, remained cold and calm.