"Boss, are you the devil?" Standing atop the Flame Chariot, the orc Harris looked at Solam with a face full of admiration. "How on earth did you do it? You actually got those guys to start killing each other?"
What Harris was referring to had started that morning.
When the orcs on the western front had first seemed to rebel, Harris had thought his boss was a devil for using such an evil artifact to make the Black Orcs slaughter one another. After all, Solam had orc blood in him!
Strictly speaking, he did not have much to do with humans anyway. But seeing Solam use that evil artifact without hesitation to harm so many orcs, Harris, as an orc himself, would be lying if he said he felt no sympathy for his kind.
Though orcs rarely cared much about such things, just like humans. In fact, orcs killed more orcs than anyone else. Seventy percent of orc battles took place in conflicts with their own kind, so Harris would not have cared if Solam had killed a few orcs. He had killed plenty himself. No orc cared about that.
But Solam had used that artifact to make tens of thousands of orcs slaughter each other!
Never mind the numbers—even this method of controlling people's minds was despised by the vast majority of warriors.
Yet Solam had used it without the slightest hesitation. Today, the scale was even greater. The main orc force had sent an army of roughly thirty thousand to suppress the rebellion on the western front, but the moment those thirty thousand left, unrest immediately broke out in the main orc camp. Countless orcs started killing each other for no apparent reason. This time, it was on an even larger scale! Hundreds of thousands of orcs had