The brutal sounds of slaughter carried for dozens of miles, reaching even the orcish main camp.
Huo Keduo stood at the entrance of the great tent, squinting at the distance. Though he could not possibly make out the battle on the city walls from here, he could still feel that blood-boiling madness.
"The scent of slaughter!"
As a Black Orc, no matter how ambitious Huo Keduo was or how deep his schemes ran, he was still a Black Orc. The killing instincts accumulated in his blood over countless generations gave him an innate, unparalleled love for destruction, slaughter, and battle.
The wildest, most naked slaughter atop the walls made goosebumps rise all over Huo Keduo's body. If the last remnants of his reason had not told him that it was not yet time for him to climb the walls himself, he would have long since been unable to resist picking up his battle axe and charging forward.
"How intoxicating."
Though it was somewhat regrettable, Huo Keduo had more important matters to attend to. He could only force himself to suppress the call of his instincts.
"Have Karaka lead his men up there!" Huo Keduo said, turning to one of his trusted aides. Karaka was known as the Old Chieftain and had been the longest-reigning chieftain in the Anauroch Desert, holding his position for eighty-six years.
Black Orcs had lifespans not much different from humans. In fact, due to their brutal customs, their average lifespan was even shorter. Yet Karaka had lived to one hundred and twenty, which was nothing short of a miracle among the Black Orcs.
And the one hundred and twenty-six-year-old Old Chieftain Karaka was still vigorous and lively even now, stronger and more powerful than many young men. Even at his age, he could still defend his