Ripples Begin

The battle finally came to an end.

In the valley, the bodies of thousands of Orc warriors covered the ground like a blood-soaked blanket spread over charred earth and shattered rock.

Tattered banners, broken swords, and splintered shields lay scattered among the dead, glinting coldly in the fading sunlight.

The air reeked of blood and burnt flesh. Lingering heat mingled with the stench, making it hard to breathe.

But not every Orc had died.

Some had abandoned the fight in its final moments. Ormond and Gu He had been crushed. The Eighth-Order Imperial Clan members had fallen one after another. Human experts had surrounded the entire valley, leaving no escape. Even the fiercest Orc warriors had finally realized that resistance was pointless.

They threw down their weapons, sank to their knees, and bowed their proud heads.

The captives included ordinary Orcs, members of the Orc Royal Clan, and Eighth-Order Imperial Clan members. The Eternal Ice Silkworm had been burned black by the Skyburn Flame, its ice wings in tatters and its aura barely perceptible, but it was still alive. The Thunder Titan had also surrendered after several Eighth-Order Holy Blood experts joined forces to suppress it.

There were also three Eighth-Order Orcs, more than a dozen Seventh-Order Orcs, and over a hundred elite Orcs.

The humans had spared them, but not out of mercy.

They had their own reasons.

These prisoners were largely Orc elites. Even the weaker ones carried royal blood, and every one of them was valuable.

Whether they were traded to the Orc Empire for resources and territory or interrogated for its secrets, they were far more useful than cold corpses.

To victors who held an absolute advantage, living prisoners were worth far more than dead enemies.

The captives were held under guard in one corner of