Late at night, amid the peace and stillness, the mournful chirping of crickets could faintly be heard from the grass outside Southshore's walls. The fragrance of night filled the air, weaving a soft net that enveloped the scenery. Although the moon was full, a thick layer of clouds kept it from shining brightly. Dense shrubs on higher ground cast uneven, mottled shadows, alongside the sparse, graceful silhouettes of curving willows. Yet light and shadow shared a harmonious melody, like a famous piece played on a violin.
Some two or three hundred figures stood silently before the Orc army. Holding a staff, the Orc commander addressed the scrawny Orc in front of him. "Be careful. Don't do anything unnecessary. Your main objective is to open the gates."
"Those Humans have forgotten even their own surnames after their victory today. You needn't worry about that." The scrawny Orc waved dismissively, turned, and activated Vanish as he moved forward. Following his example, the other rogues entered Stealth one after another. In the blink of an eye, the two or three hundred figures standing before the Orc army disappeared without a trace, concealed in the darkness.
Watching the arrogant, scrawny Orc, the commander wore a smug look. In a low voice only he could hear, he slowly muttered to himself, "With your temperament, the more I tell you to be careful, the more you resent it. You damned half-Orc bastard, you're bound to try assassinating that Human prince. According to the information Scott sent, that prince is Ninth Rank."
"Once you open the gates, you'll have outlived your usefulness, bastard. So you must die." Hatred spilled from the Orc commander's lips. What Rex had never imagined was that this Orc army included not only Gnolls and Trolls, but half-Orcs as well. The Orcs' prejudice