Chapter 485 - 484: False Nobles

Chapter 485: Chapter 484: False Nobles

Colin looked up. The Half-Orc was covered in blood, with several Javelins and throwing axes still sticking out of him.

He said with a sigh, "You should take a look at yourself, Kase, my friend. Hurry up and pull that junk out. Orelia, patch this guy up!"

"This is nothing." Kase chuckled, then expressionlessly yanked a throwing axe free and tossed it to the ground with a CLANG, as if he were just brushing off a few specks of dust.

His smile vanished instantly, and he glanced back warily at the approaching Orelia, afraid the Tiefling would fly into a rage over it.

However, Orelia hadn’t seen what the Orc had just done, so he got away with it.

And with that, the battle was over.

Colin looked at the members of his squad.

Aside from himself—who had drunk a Potion—Albert in his magnificent Plate Armor, and Ale, who had been protected, everyone else was injured.

Having just faced so many Dire Wolf Knights, most of them were wounded. The Orcs’ Javelins and throwing axes were incredibly powerful, and their Armor couldn’t stop them completely.

Glancing at the others being treated, Colin turned and walked out of the tent, intending to check on the arriving reinforcements.

The Orc Chief’s tent had been pitched in an excellent spot. Standing there, Colin had a perfect view overlooking the entire valley.

The moment he stepped outside, Colin saw a large host of heavily armored knights charging up the mountain path from below.

At a rough glance, there were more than two hundred of them.

They wore winged ornaments on their backs, crafted from wooden frames and feathers. They were clad in Gothic-style Full Plate Armor, and even their tall Warhorses were draped in thick Armor.

The noble Knights held crimson Riding Lances, and from their tips hung pennants emblazoned with family crests.

It was obvious at a glance that they were the elite of the elite.

’Those must be the famous Northern Noble Knights,’ Colin thought.

These Knights were the elite of the Northern Lands.

Most of them were nobles with their own fiefdoms. Few mortal armies could withstand a full charge from these "tin cans."

In addition to their Riding Lances, these Knights typically carried one-handed, armor-piercing maces as sidearms, making them formidable combatants even when dismounted.

Forged in the Northern Lands, these noble Knights possessed indomitable spirits and superb martial prowess. Combined with their excellent equipment, they were the jacks-of-all-trades of the battlefield, equally adept at massed charges and dismounted combat.

Behind these Knights followed a group of Mounted Attendants.

These Attendants wore thick Beast Hide riding gear and carried composite bows, likely serving in a support combat role. They also numbered over two hundred.

Seeing this, the Orcs surrounding Wolf Castle all turned their gazes in unison toward the chief’s main camp.

Colin stood his ground, quietly watching the Orcs.

’It wasn’t hard to guess what the Orcs were thinking.’

With several hundred heavily armored Knights in Iron Armor before them, and an armored human standing by the Chief’s command tent to their rear, even a fool would know what to do.

The Orcs abandoned the captured walls and towers, fleeing toward the wilderness in a flash and triggering an irreversible rout.

Despite worshipping various war-mongering Evil Deities, most Orcs weren’t fools. Their main reason for raiding southward was to plunder enough to fill their stomachs.

Warlike though they were, they sought evenly matched battles, not a one-sided slaughter.

The horde of Orcs quickly abandoned the towers and walls they occupied, fleeing into the wilderness along with the goblins.

However, the pursuing Rangers wouldn’t let them off so easily.

Keeping close behind the Orcs, the Rangers with their Short Bows unleashed a rain of arrows, slaughtering them and sending them fleeing in disarray, casting aside helmets and armor.

Meanwhile, the heavily armored Knights gathered in front of Wolf Castle to mop up the monsters inside that hadn’t escaped in time.

"I guess we should go join them," Dorn said as he stepped out of the tent.

Colin turned to see that the others had finished treating their wounds and had gathered behind him.

"Right, I need to ask a favor of you all," Albert said.

Dorn frowned. "You’re not going to ask us to hunt down and kill all those fleeing Orcs, are you?"

"Nothing that difficult," Albert said, his visor still down. "From now on, you are traveling with the Northern Baron, Mikhailo Tolchevich, not Albert Weston."

Colin and the others exchanged a look.

He sighed. "I won’t ask why. I have a feeling you wouldn’t tell us anyway."

"Thank you for your understanding, Colin," Albert continued. "Now, let’s get over there. You’re the heroes who routed the Orcs, after all."

Colin nodded, then led the group toward Wolf Castle.

As they drew near, several Rangers on horseback charged toward them.

They drew their bows, nocking arrows and shouting, "Surrender, Mercenaries! Your Orc masters are already running for their lives! Surrender now and you’ll get two years off your sentence of forced labor!"

"A classic reaction," Dorn muttered, crossing his arms. "I wish just once someone would see us and say something different."

Colin sighed. Just as he was about to speak, Albert bellowed, "Insolence! Lower your Bow and Arrow! Open your eyes and look closely! I am a hereditary Baron. Would I stoop to serving as a Mercenary under Orcs? You pack of blind fools, how dare you insult a member of the nobility!"

The man’s tone and voice were completely different from before. He sounded like a typical, uneducated, rough man from the North, with none of his previous refined air.

The Rangers were actually taken aback by his outburst.

Although the lead Ranger didn’t lower his Bow and Arrow, his tone became much more timid. "Ah, forgive our impertinence, but may I ask who you are...?"

"I am Mikhailo Tolchevich! Open your damn eyes and look!" Albert rapped a hand against the crest on his Chest Armor, bellowing arrogantly, "I’m going to see the future Earl!"

With that, he strode toward Wolf Castle with Colin and the others in tow.

Seeing this, the Rangers only glanced from a distance at the crest on Albert’s armor. Not daring to stop him, they whispered among themselves for a moment before riding off toward the Beastman Camp.

Colin and the others soon arrived in Wolf Castle’s courtyard.

By this time, the heavily armored Knights had all gathered there as well.

Several Knights, draped in leopard or bear pelts, strode over when they saw Albert. They removed their Helmets and gathered around him.

One of them said with a laugh, "Mikhailo, you made it too?! Where are your men?"

Albert raised his visor, revealing the face of a completely different man from the North. The process was accompanied by virtually no fluctuation of Magic, giving Colin the strange illusion that this had been Albert’s true face all along.