"Report back to the vanguard commander immediately. Tell him everything you saw," the squad leader of the Orcs Scout Team said, pointing at one of the two Orc Wolf Riders who had scouted ahead.
The Wolf Rider received his orders and immediately drove his Worg toward the rear without another word.
Everyone in the Pathfinder Squad now understood their leader's intentions. If they made a fuss and fired an enemy contact signal just because ten High Elves blocked their way, they would never shake off their reputation as cowards in the army.
What mattered most to survival in the army? Aside from staying alive, saving face mattered even more. Face was honor! Life in the army was difficult for anyone who had suffered a great humiliation. Being laughed at was the least of their worries; being constantly bullied by those soldiers with energy to spare was what truly made life miserable.
That was why soldiers often valued honor above their lives. No soldier wanted others in the army to look down on him. Even if it might cost them their lives, they would fight desperately to preserve their honor. And that was precisely why their people respected them and relied on them.
People had greater respect for those who defended their honor, and greater trust in warriors willing to risk their lives to uphold it. Surely no one would believe that someone terrified of death, someone who did not even care about honor, could keep them safe. Among Orcs, who revered strength and courage, this feeling ran even deeper than it did among other races.
"The rest of you..." The Orcs Pathfinder Squad Leader looked around at the remaining Wolf Riders. "Who is willing to come with me and meet these High Elves riding white Worgs?"
The moment the Orcs