"Can't keep fighting! We can't keep fighting!" The Wolfhead Clan's chief, Bloodthroat Uruk, had been dragged back from the front lines by his tribe's warriors after suffering grievous wounds. The first thing he did upon returning was fall to his knees before the Orc King, Huo Keduo, his eyes bloodshot as tears streamed uncontrollably down his face. "My king! We can't keep fighting... The clan's warriors are nearly all dead! We have nothing... no siege weapons, no behemoths, no firepower to suppress them, nothing at all... We don't even have the slightest cover... Sob... My king! Please, we can't keep fighting!"
The Wolfhead Clan was considered neutral among the orcs. They were not a major tribe, but neither were they anyone's easy prey. Because of that, Huo Keduo's reforms had neither affected nor disgusted them much. They only wanted to be a fence-sitter, leaning toward whichever side offered them greater benefits.
Over this period, the Wolfhead Clan had gained quite a few benefits through this wavering policy and lived quite comfortably. Until this morning.
When the siege began that morning, Uruk had thought it would be another siege battle like all the previous ones. It was nothing extraordinary. Black Orcs had never feared war, and in nearly every orcish culture, dying in battle was an immensely honorable act. Uruk had also prepared himself to sacrifice some of his tribesmen.
But by noon, Uruk realized that things had taken a turn for the worse. Casualties at the front had already reached a critical point, yet the retreat horn behind them still had not sounded. Instead, the attack horns continued to echo ceaselessly across the battlefield.
Other than high-status orc leaders—such as the heads of the old clans and the current warlords—who could leave the battlefield due to injury, no one else