"Kill! Kill! Kill!"
The orc soldiers of Charles's Blood Pact Warband began roaring as they advanced forward in neat ranks.
The two armies quickly collided.
Great shields pressed against one another as heavy axes, warhammers, spiked maces, and other weapons smashed down violently.
A vast mist of blood instantly erupted from the front lines.
Charles's expression did not change as he watched the scene.
In war, how could there be no deaths?
Certainly, if Charles cast witchcraft now, he could definitely reduce the casualties.
But then what was the point of raising so many soldiers?
A great battle was precisely the time for the soldiers under his command to build up their combat strength and experience. Such an opportunity could not be missed.
Still, Charles provided a measure of support.
There were few first- and second-tier mid-level powerhouses among his infantry.
If they clashed head-on with the enemy like this, they would be at a severe disadvantage.
Thus, Charles began casting witchcraft specifically at the enemy's first- and second-tier fighters.
Spells flew out one after another from afar, striking the enemy powerhouses with precision.
Kurto Shatterskull looked toward the shaman beside him and demanded furiously, "Why haven't you dealt with the enemy's witch doctor yet?!"
This shaman was only second-tier himself.
He was also a native spellcaster and possessed very few abilities.
Watching the unceasing witchcraft raining down, the shaman's face turned ashen.
He simply could not deal with it.
This shaman was not even comparable to a half-elf witch doctor, much less Charles, who was stronger than one.
Moreover, Charles was a third-circle Grand Witch Doctor.
Even if this third-circle Grand Witch Doctor had only mastered a single offensive third-circle spell.
Though he could not defeat Charles, the shaman still began working frantically. He took out poisonous insects and