The soldiers listened to Charles, their faces flushing red as their morale soared.
Humans in this plane had never been the rulers. Their status was simply far too low.
At times, they were even worse off than stupid orcs.
They longed too desperately to prove themselves, too desperately to cast off their lowly status.
Charles's disguise at this moment was that of a Sun Elf. Within this world's hierarchy, he was practically like a star in the heavens.
And these human soldiers were like the dirt upon the ground.
But now, a star from the heavens—a pure-blooded Sun Elf noble—had acknowledged these humans and called them warriors.
At that moment, it was as though they had been pumped full of adrenaline. Their morale burst through the roof.
Morale would still decline eventually, but that did not matter.
During the march, this would ensure the soldiers remained in good condition. When battle began, Charles only needed to raise their morale once more.
The army set out. Everyone mounted their horses and began marching.
In Charles's army, even the infantry rode ordinary horses. Much of the logistical equipment and supplies were also hauled by beasts of burden.
The price of this was extremely high maintenance costs. The population of three small towns simply could not sustain it.
So Charles took out loans to maintain his army.
But the benefits were equally obvious. Charles's marching speed was at least two or three times that of the orcs.
Under forced marches, they could move even faster.
Charles's target was the logistical supply center of the Howling Children of the Wasteland.
They were attacking the Scorched-Earth Warcry Tribe. Much of their supplies had been requisitioned from various settlements, gathered in one location, then escorted from there to the main army.
As Charles's army set