Chapter 231: Time to Hunt

Their attention diverted, the worgs broke into a sprint, rushing toward the commotion.

Seizing the moment of chaos, the scouts scrambled forward on their bellies.

A few screams later, the commotion gradually died down. The orcs returned to their tents cursing, but by then, the reconnaissance team had already taken the opportunity to crawl out of the camp.

Profound relief washed over the scouts. They had narrowly avoided the fate of the other squad, who had become dead souls beneath the orcs' axes.

Even after clearing the orc camp, the men continued to crawl for a long distance.

Only when they were a thousand meters away from the orc camp did the scouts finally stand up, hunching over as they sprinted forward.

The next day, over a dozen kilometers from the orc camp, the squad finally came to a halt. They gathered to eat their dry rations and replenish their strength and water.

The new recruit, Moran, chewed on a dry, rough wheat cake. Pulling the stopper from his waterskin, he tipped his head back and gulped down a mouthful of water to wash the bread down before speaking.

"Captain, if we just keep wandering around aimlessly like this, we're not going to find anything."

Taim, the experienced squad captain, laughed.

"You kid! What's the rush? Do you really think we won't find a target as long as you follow me?"

Their other companion, Snoweye, took a bite of his wheat cake and smiled as well.

"Just wait and see, kid. In a little while, a target will deliver itself right to our doorstep."

Moran raised an eyebrow and said no more.

After eating, the trio found the shade of a large boulder and lay down with their ears pressed to the ground. The nervous tension from the night before had completely exhausted them.

Not long after, all three jolted awake simultaneously. They lifted their heads, exchanged a glance, and nodded to each other.

They heard the faint rumble of wagon wheels.

A moment later, the scouts lying in the grass found the source of the sound: a clefthoof supply convoy.

This clefthoof transport convoy consisted of over a dozen massive clefthoofs. These ten-meter-long behemoths pulled enormous wagons fully loaded with goods. Some carried grain, while others held bundles of weapons.

Worg riders followed alongside the convoy. Even deep in the heartland of the Great Orc Prairie, these elite worg riders had not relaxed their vigilance, constantly watching their surroundings for any movement.

From a small hill a thousand meters away, the scouts parted the grass. Seeing the bright greatswords in the worg riders' hands glinting under the sun, along with the bundles of weapons on the wagons, sent chills down their spines.

Following behind the convoy was an endless sea of cattle and sheep, keeping pace with the clefthoof wagons.

Bringing cattle and sheep to the battlefield carried an obvious implication.

Moran whispered in shock, "Are these orcs insane? They actually brought all their cattle and sheep to the battlefield! What will they eat next year?!"

Snoweye's gaze turned solemn.

"Maybe they never even considered next year. These orcs are preparing to fight us humans to the death!"

Captain Taim also realized the gravity of the situation.

"Boys, this volume of weaponry isn't something ordinary smugglers can provide. I'm starting to see why the bounty for this mission was so high."

At his words, the scouts fell silent, quietly watching the transport convoy move further away.

After the convoy was gone, the three men walked down to the path the clefthoof convoy had taken. Bending down to inspect the ruts left by the wheels, they saw that the grass had been crushed and even the dirt underneath was heavily compressed.

The weight of the goods loaded on the wagons was easy to imagine.

Captain Taim looked in the direction the transport convoy had come from, his expression shifting.

"Gentlemen, at this point, we have no turning back. Even if we manage to return to the fortress alive, we might not survive the coming battles anyway."

The other two nodded in silence. Taim took the lead, walking in the direction the convoy had come from.

"Let's go. The direction this convoy came from must be an important orc logistics base. We might find something there."

The other two quickly followed.

Along the way, they encountered two more transport convoys. They were nearly discovered by the keen sense of smell of the worgs, but ultimately managed to scrape by safely.

After two days of braving the elements, the squad finally reached their destination.

Covered in grass, the scouts crawled on the ground, gazing at the endless expanse of leather tents in the distance. Drawn on the tents was an abstract red axe.

Captain Taim instantly recognized the identity of the orc clan.

"It's actually the Blood Axe Clan!"

Moran gasped in surprise.

"The Blood Axe Clan? Is this that legendary orc clan?! The one that developed from an unranked minor tribe into a major clan in just a single year?!"

The squad hastily backed away. The Blood Axe Clan was no small fry.

Rumor had it that the clan's chieftain, Gnosh Bloodaxe, was a warmonger. He led his people to sustain war with war, crossing the mountains several times to bypass Blade Fortress and raid the human towns in the rear.

General Loski had led troops to encircle and suppress them several times, but they had always managed to escape. This had enraged General Loski enough to smash over a dozen chairs.

Suddenly, the squad was stunned to see a massive white head rise up from within the Blood Axe Clan's camp.

What a terrifying yet beautiful creature it was!

Its entire body was white, purer than snow. Two thick, spiraled straight horns pierced the sky, and its streamlined neck was elegantly slender. Moreover, just by standing up, its head towered seven or eight meters above the orc tents.

The scouts could not help but stare in a daze.

This would also cost them their lives.

When a creature reached a certain level of power, it would sense if someone was staring at it. The White Dragon Lord was no exception.

Sensing several gazes watching him from outside the tents, the White Dragon Lord turned to look at the grassy plains beyond the camp, seeing right through the scouts' pitiful, primitive camouflage eight hundred meters away.

When the scouts met the white dragon's vertical, golden diamond-shaped pupils, it felt as though an invisible hand had ruthlessly seized their hearts. Every cell in their bodies felt instinctive terror. The dragon's might instantly shattered their mental defenses, and they collapsed to the ground in despair.

The White Dragon Lord merely took a single glance before withdrawing his gaze.

"Gnosh, there are a few bugs hiding in the grass outside."

Hearing this, the Blood Axe Clan's chieftain, Gnosh Bloodaxe, who was serving at his side, was startled. Grabbing his large axe, he stormed out in a fury, stopping in front of an exceptionally strong orc to roar.

"Murata! To think human scouts managed to walk right up to here and disturb the Master! You have greatly disappointed me!"

The strong orc was roared at by Gnosh Bloodaxe until he lowered his head, not daring to make a sound.

"Chieftain, please give me one more chance! I will definitely redeem myself!"

Gnosh Bloodaxe's roar echoed throughout the camp.

"Then what are you waiting for?!"

Squad after squad of elite worg riders ran out from the Blood Axe Clan camp, rushing into the boundless prairie.

Now, it was time to hunt!