That day, the wetlands were flooded with the Orc army.
Looking down from above, you could see the Orcs pouring toward the entrance of a natural cave like ants swarming over their target.
But that horde was only a fraction of the main force. More and more Orcs were bypassing the lake and advancing deeper into the wetlands.
With no one to oppose them, the swarm filled the wetlands and poured into the cave like an avalanche.
Then, from one corner of the horde, a commotion arose.
Someone had begun their assault.
This was the signal for the start of the battle between the Orc army and the Lizardman warriors in the wetlands.
The kings of the wetlands—the Lizardmen.
They were warriors with extraordinary combat ability, capable of high-speed movement even in treacherous mud.
Hidden among the thick grass, they attacked silently from the flank of the Orc horde without being detected.
Everything had gone according to
He had locked the former chiefs in the underground great hall, reorganized the army, and crawled up to the surface through the network of passages.
Then, swiftly forming a striking posture, he had delivered a blow to the Orc horde.
Gabiru was not incompetent. He lacked the vision to see the bigger picture, but his ability to lead the warrior corps was worthy of praise.
He had properly inherited the strengths of his father, the former chief.
The Lizardmen were a tribe that valued the strong.
That was precisely why they would never follow a man who was nothing more than a braggart.
There were those who looked up to Gabiru. The fact alone proved that he was not merely a brave but useless fool.
However...
The unit left to guard the great hall numbered one thousand.
Inside the hall, there were only noncombatant women and children. In a pinch, the women would fight too, but their combat power could not be relied upon.
That was why he had stationed five hundred troops along each passage leading to the great hall.
The rest of the defensive lines were to withdraw gradually and join up with the main force.
Excluding those left behind, every last fighter was under Gabiru's command.
The total: seven thousand Goblin soldiers, plus eight thousand Lizardman warriors.
That was the current fighting force.
Gabiru had judged that he could win in a surface battle without relying on the labyrinthine terrain.
Based on that decision, he had left only the bare minimum for defense and marched out with everything else.
The initial strike had gone exactly as described.
Through a brilliant surprise attack, they had successfully split the Orc horde and inflicted damage.
The Goblin squads then hunted down the Orc soldiers scattered by the Lizardman strikes, picking them off one by one.
Under Gabiru's precise command, the newly formed army performed admirably.
The Goblins also had their own lives on the line. That was why they were desperately keeping pace with everyone's movements.
That cooperation naturally produced the best possible synergy, resulting in a smooth start to the battle.
Look at that!
Gabiru thought. There was no need to fear those pig-brained brutes beyond what was necessary!
His father had grown old. That was why he had become unnecessarily worry-prone.
He, Gabiru, would put his father's mind at ease.
If he showcased his martial prowess here, his father would surely accept him as chief with confidence. And to that end, those pig-brains needed to be dealt with quickly.
Rather, they were giving him the opportunity to take over as chief!
Cheers erupted.
His subordinates had earned yet another feat of valor.
See?!
Those pigs were no match for the Lizardmen at all!
Gabiru was in high spirits as he surveyed the battlefield in the wetlands.
But... things had only gone according to plan up to this point.
When a side suffered heavy casualties, morale was supposed to drop. That was how battles normally worked.
Gabiru did not know.
The terror of the Orc Disaster.
The chief did know.
The terror of the Orc Disaster.
That difference was now bearing its fangs at Gabiru in the form of what was unfolding before him.
Squish. Squish. Squish. Squish.
The Orcs, trampling over corpses.
They were on all fours, crawling along. No—that wasn't it!
They weren't trampling. They were eating. A horrifying sight.
Even for the battle-hardened Lizardman warriors, it was a ghastly spectacle.
An ominous Demon Aura enveloped the Orcs.
One warrior, terrified by the sight, stumbled backward and tripped. Seizing the opening, Orc soldiers swarmed him.
Dragged into the mud, torn limb from limb, killed—the first Lizardman casualty of this battle.
But this was the turning point.
The abilities consumed by the rank-and-file soldiers would, through a chain of circulation, eventually be delivered to the Orc Disaster.
It was an imperfect version of what the Predator skill could fully analyze.
However, it could absorb a certain degree of an opponent's abilities and redistribute them to those under its control.
That was one of the abilities of the Unique Skill, "Hungerer."
A horde that functioned as a single individual. It was different in nature from the Fang Wolf tribe, but the capacity to become a collective organism was a hallmark of Hungerer.
That was precisely why the former chief had been so terrified of casualties.
To preserve the advantage they held over Orcs on an individual basis.
It could not steal an opponent's abilities the way Predator could, but it could acquire minor traits.
For example, the ability to move freely in mud.
For example, slight changes like scales developing over vital points, increasing defense.
Such changes.
And those changes could become factors that dramatically turned the tide of battle.
"Don't fear! Show them the power of our proud Lizardman Tribe!!!"
Encouraged by Gabiru's rallying cry, the Lizardman warriors raised their spirits.
Buoyed by the reassurance that they were fighting on favorable ground as the kings of the wetlands, they launched another assault on the Orc soldiers.
They had already confirmed that their movements were faster than the Orcs'.
Even if they were outnumbered, if they could circle around to an undefended side and strike, they could split and destroy the enemy just as before.
And yet!
As the Lizardmen began moving to attack the flank, the Orc soldiers matched their movement, maintaining formation.
Their speed had increased dramatically from before.
Something was wrong. By the time Gabiru realized it, it was already too late.
With unprecedented swiftness, the Orc army deployed in a wide encirclement.
Fifty thousand soldiers quickly sealed off Gabiru's rear.
They had overextended.
Trusting too much in their own mobility, they had assumed they could easily disengage from the slow-moving Orcs and had pursued too far.
Or perhaps, if the Orcs had not been under the influence of the Unique Skill, "Hungerer," it might not have mattered.
But that was merely a hypothetical. In reality, the encirclement was nearly complete.
It was like a single insect being swallowed by an army of ants.
No matter how desperately it struggled, it would eventually exhaust itself, and death would come.
How had this happened? Gabiru could not understand.
He desperately tried to rally his forces, shouting orders, trying to boost morale around him.
But the Goblins had already fallen into a state of panic, and the fear was beginning to spread to the Lizardmen as well.
This was bad. He considered ordering a retreat, but... he understood that there was nowhere to retreat to.
During the initial deployment, discipline had held, allowing each group to exit the cave in an orderly fashion. But if they tried to flee in a rout, the cave was far too narrow.
If he gave the retreat order, the Goblins would rush back first and block the cave entrance.
If that happened, cut off from any escape route and stripped of all cohesion, they would simply be waiting to be slaughtered by the Orcs.
Or, even if they fled into the forest instead of the cave, the Orcs would hunt them down and destroy them piecemeal.
There was no retreat.
Gabiru understood this all too well.
Now he finally understood why his courageous father had insisted on a defensive strategy like a siege. He understood it now, but it was too late.
How stupid he had been. But regret would not change anything.
The only thing Gabiru could do now was to encourage his allies and ease their anxiety as much as possible.
"Hwahahaha! Don't make those worried faces! I'm right here with you! There's no way we could lose to those pig-brains!!!"
He said what even he himself did not believe, just to rally his allies.
Their fate was reaching its end...
Oh...
The chief of the Lizardman Tribe let out a sigh.
He was filled with regret.
He wished he had told them about the terror of the Orc Disaster, even if only as a bedtime story.
No—that wasn't true. He had mentioned it. But he regretted not having shared specific tales of that terror.
Perhaps Gabiru would have been a little more cautious.
But it was too late now. With a sigh, the chief cast that thought aside.
He still had things he needed to do.
Gathered in the great hall, his kinsmen all looked anxious.
There were four large passageways. And one escape route.
The Orcs would not come from the escape route side. It led to a small hill in the forest via a straight passage—the only passage they had dug themselves, so there was no risk of getting lost.
That meant the four passages ahead were the ones that needed guarding.
At each fork, the units that had been attacking the Orcs were now carefully withdrawing and regrouping.
The four passages were currently defended by roughly fifteen hundred troops. Some units had not yet finished assembling.
The Orc soldiers numbered vast quantities. With that kind of mass, this position would be discovered in no time.
Before that happened, he wanted to concentrate as much of their remaining force as possible, but...
The chief glanced toward the escape passage.
Since all their kinsmen were gathered here, even the great hall felt cramped.
Even if this entire group tried to evacuate at once, he doubted they could make it in time.
He should start evacuating them gradually, little by little, while there was still time.
Either way, it would cause chaos. But even so, reducing the chance of total annihilation, even slightly, was worth doing.
Then again, even if they escaped into the forest, it was only a matter of time before the Orcs found them.
And even if they did manage to escape, he could not imagine how they would go on living.
It was precisely because he thought this way that he could not bring himself to give the order to flee.
In the end, all he could do was buy time.
And wait, desperately, for reinforcements that might or might not come.
The chief's anguish seemed like it would continue without end.
The Lizardman Tribe's Royal Guard Captain was sprinting through the forest.
He had sensed a powerful Demon Aura and was running toward it with everything he had.
Though he was formidable in the wetlands, the forest was a different story.
His breath was ragged, his heartbeat pounding, and fatigue was steadily accumulating.
Even so, he did not stop running.
The future of his kinsmen depended on it.
Three hours had passed since then.
He had been running nonstop ever since breaking free of his restraints. Sustained by sheer willpower, he could collapse at any moment.
In truth, he understood.
There was no guarantee that a certain demon named
Even if he was there, there was no guarantee he would help.
Wouldn't it be better to just flee on his own?
The thought crossed his mind. But he rejected it.
He blamed himself for failing to stop Gabiru's reckless charge.
He had known that Gabiru craved the chief's approval.
But he had been unable to tell the chief about it. The Lizardman warrior Gabiru—he himself had also respected Gabiru.
To take responsibility for that, he could not run away.
If he stopped now, he would never be able to start running again.
That was why he kept running.
There was someone watching him as he ran.
In his desperation, he could not notice.
The figure moved silently along tree branches, tracking the Royal Guard Captain without making a sound.
As though speaking with someone, yet with no one there, the figure appeared to be holding a conversation without voicing a word.
Finally, as if the exchange had concluded, the figure nodded once.
Then, in a murmur spoken aloud: "As you command. It shall be done."
The figure alighted silently directly in front of the Royal Guard Captain!