Fight First, Talk Later, Drive Away the Pigs

"Muru, we are about to enter enemy territory. Have the entire army set up camp. Send out more scouts; I need a detailed report on this area."

"Yes, my lord."

The Desolace was truly a wretched place. The wind, thick with sand and dust, whipped against one's face with stinging force. I truly could not fathom how the Quillboar and Centaur managed to survive here.

"My lord, the first group of scouts has returned. There is a squad of Quillboar on the border ahead, appearing to be on sentry duty."

"Take a squad tonight and bring me a prisoner. And bring along half of the mages; let them get a taste of blood."

"Yes, my lord."

With no cover in the surrounding terrain, stealth was difficult to achieve. However, we had mages. With our small numbers, a single mage casting Illusion Magic at the front of the formation was enough to keep our raiding party perfectly concealed.

"Mages, stand by at 32 yards and prepare for ranged attacks. Warriors, ready—Charge!" There was no need for further words; it was just a Sentinel squad, so we simply crushed them. Once we stormed the camp, we found a slight discrepancy from our expectations: the Quillboar force stationed here wasn't just a squad, but a full company! There were over a hundred of them, but that didn't change the final outcome, only made the process take a little longer. Mission accomplished.

"Speak," Azar said, his tone calm.

"Yes, my lord. We took a combat squad and six mages. One volley of attacks wiped out the enemy, leaving only their company commander alive. The mage unit is incredibly useful; they can hide the troops perfectly in open terrain. The Fireball spells used during the battle caused immense panic among the enemy. We suffered no deaths, only two minor injuries sustained while storming the commander's tent."

"En, how was the enemy's combat strength?" Azar was puzzled. How could a company commander's camp injure two of his elites?

"I brought an elite combat squad this time. I didn't participate in the fighting, observing the whole time. The perimeter battle was a foregone conclusion; the Quillboar soldiers were only at the level of warrior apprentices. I was a bit surprised by the fight at the commander's tent, but although some were injured, the wounds were minor and the battle ended quickly."

"Bring that pig over here!"

A moment later, a Quillboar was dragged in, bound hand and foot. He looked thoroughly terrified.

"Untie him." A guard immediately removed the ropes. Seeing the Quillboar nearly wetting himself, Azar's curiosity was piqued. He decided to toy with him, releasing a faint pressure of his aura. Sure enough, the creature wet himself. Azar smiled and said to the Quillboar, "Don't be nervous, my friend. If you are willing to answer a few questions, I guarantee I won't kill you."

"Really? Yes, yes, yes! My lord, please ask, I will tell you everything I know."

"Why are you here?"

"We were ordered to monitor the Elf forces, especially for news of Elf reinforcements. It was just a squad at first, but I arrived recently, and more troops are arriving in succession. The Chieftain said that once the war ends, we are to serve as the vanguard." Azar nodded, satisfied with the Quillboar's attitude, and signaled for a guard to bring him a cup of water.

"What is your status? I don't believe a company commander's guard could injure my elite soldiers."

"My father is the Chieftain of a large tribe and is highly valued by the Great Chieftain. Our tribe is the main force for the counterattack. The Great Chieftain said your tribe has little combat power left, and by serving as the vanguard, we can seize more spoils. The guards are the Champions of the tribe."

"So, it seems you are a high-ranking official's son. Do you know why the Quillboar Great Chieftain decided to go to war with us?"

"I heard my father mention it. Our living environment is poor, so after the Great Chieftain unified the Quillboar, he wanted to expand outward. He originally saw that the Elf forces were invincible and wanted to form an alliance, but he was rejected. So, when the Troll came to propose an alliance later, he agreed, but he only promised to raid your supply lines and monitor your reinforcements."

"What about the Centaur?"

"Their situation is similar to ours, but their nature is savage, bloodthirsty, cruel, and they fear nothing. We have been in constant war with them, and we lose more than we win. This time, we are only cooperating temporarily through the mediation of the Troll."

"Come here and mark your encampment."

The Quillboar marked it carefully and said respectfully, "My lord, that is all I know."

"En, that will do. Your mission is over. Hang this pig at their camp!"

The Quillboar was stunned; this wasn't how the script was supposed to go—he had told them everything! It wasn't until the guards dragged him away that he snapped out of it and screamed, "Spare me! Spare my life!"

"I said I wouldn't kill you, but I never said I would let you go," Azar retorted with an evil grin. He quickly summoned his company commanders to brief them on the intelligence and immediately issued the order for the entire army to march. The army fanned out, heading northwest, killing any who stood in their way, with the goal being the Quillboar Great Chieftain's camp.

"My lord, our marching direction is slightly off, and if we keep slaughtering our way through, it will surely affect the rescue mission," Muru whispered to Azar.

"Did I ever say I was going to save them?" A commander must have a heart of stone and be accustomed to sacrifice. War means death; sacrifice is inevitable. It only matters whether that sacrifice is meaningful. The Troll wanted to use a group of remnants to bait the Elf reinforcements, so why shouldn't Azar use them to drag down the Troll coalition? He would deal with the Quillboar first and clear his own rear!

Three months later, in the Wailing Caverns, Azar and the Quillboar Great Chieftain stood face to face—or rather, Azar was looking down at the pig.

"Are we still fighting?"

"Fight! We must fight! I will have my revenge for my fallen kin!"

"Stop putting on a show. You know in your heart that continuing this fight brings you no benefit. Look at how many of your people have died in these few months? Thirty thousand, perhaps? My troops have lost fewer than 500." Seeing a flicker of hesitation in the Great Chieftain's eyes, Azar pressed on: "The Centaur are still waiting for you. If we call a truce, I guarantee I will slaughter 50,000 of them."

"Really?" The Quillboar was tempted.

"Really. I have already prepared the contract. As long as you sign, we have gifts for you: twenty carts of supplies, and a separate cart of treasures just for you!"

These terms successfully moved the Great Chieftain. Getting supplies and striking at a blood enemy—what could be better? Once the contract was signed, the war between the Elf and the Quillboar came to an end.

"From our current position, bypass the border between the Quillboar and the Centaur, head southwest, and strike directly at Maraudon!"

"My lord, your subordinate has a question and seeks your guidance." Hearing someone speak, everyone looked toward the source. Azar also looked up. The one asking was a female Elf, a commander of a thousand, looking at him with a determined expression.

"Speak, Daphne. I am glad you can raise questions, but I must emphasize one thing: you may offer opinions while the battle plan is being formulated, but once the plan is issued, everyone must follow orders completely!" Azar's sharp gaze swept over everyone's face, his tone stern.

"I feel that doing this will lead to many unnecessary sacrifices. I wonder if we could utilize the strength of the Quillboar?" Daphne said earnestly.

"A very good idea. 'Stones from other hills may serve to polish the jade of this one.' This person is good; she has potential." Azar had already given Daphne a high evaluation in his mind.

"Your idea is excellent and coincides with my plan. Guards, hear my order: Level one security within 50 meters of the command tent!"

Hearing Azar's order, everyone perked up, watching him intently.

"Today, I am happy that someone dared to question the commander, and the question was of high quality, showing that Daphne has put thought into studying this war. Whether one does a job well is a matter of ability; whether one chooses to do it is a matter of attitude. Order! Daphne, transfer all command of your thousand-man unit to your deputy and assume the position of my adjutant!"

"Yes!" The happiness came so suddenly that Daphne didn't react at first, only answering mechanically. The others looked at her with envy. Ignoring them, Azar continued: "Since the start of the campaign, everyone thought we were here to rescue the remnants of Zhakun and maintain our occupied territory. In reality, my plan was—to use the remnants of Zhakun as bait to defeat the Troll, Centaur, and Quillboar one by one!"

Azar appeared full of confidence, his words ringing with power. The others listened, their expressions varying—some surprised, some thoughtful, but Sophia looked excited. The difference in command talent was now apparent. Individual combat strength can be improved quickly with hard work, instruction, and experience, but becoming a top-tier expert depends on intuition and fate. The same applies to the art of command. Daphne's reaction was enough to show her intellectual talent; she was a classic staff officer. If her character and personality were also up to par, I would be very happy to take on another apprentice.

Daphne, today is your lucky day.