Chương 256: 256：Psychological Warfare and a Poisoned Truth

"I'd love to," Soren chuckled bitterly, spreading his hands to point out the blunt reality of their dilemma.

"But, Buck, I am completely out of Wargs." Every single Greyswamp Warg in Greywater Village had been captured from Orc cavalry units. They only had ninety-three, and there had been absolutely no way to replenish those numbers. Wolf Cavalry without wolves? What was he supposed to do, have them ride the swamp's two-headed crocodiles into a cavalry charge?

"Not enough bows, no mounts..." Soren took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto the remaining 783 barbarian warriors listed on the roster. These men were massive, towering, and heavily muscled. They were completely fearless in the face of death, having just survived the most grueling, meat-grinding bloodbath imaginable.

"Then we forge them into the most impregnable pike line on the battlefield!" Soren slammed his hand flat onto the roster. His eyes burning like torches, he issued his final military restructuring order:"Kyle! Darion!"

"At your command, My Lord!" The two commanders of the pike phalanx stepped forward, their voices booming. Soren pointed out the window toward the camp, where the burly men were testing out their new armor. His voice rang out with absolute authority:"The remaining 783 Steppe barbarian warriors—I am placing every single one of them under your joint command!"

"Integrate them entirely into the second-line [Macedonian Phalanx]!"

"I want you to take their chaotic hacking and slashing, and drill it entirely out of them! Turn it into unified, perfectly synchronized thrusts!"

"Equip them with [Black Iron Half-Plate]! Issue them iron-studded heavy shields! And arm them with refined steel pikes extended to three full meters!" Soren pushed both hands forcefully through the air, mimicking the motion of an unstoppable, leveling wall:"Picture it! A full one thousand heavily armored pikemen, nearly two meters tall, locked into an airtight, impenetrable square formation!"

"When they march in perfect unison, a literal forest of pikes leveling everything in their path... even Warchief Blackstone's most elite heavily armored Orcs would be instantly skewered into meat skewers by the sheer momentum of that heavy infantry wall!" Hearing this staggering tactical vision, a violent shudder of excitement ran through Kyle and Darion.

"Your will be done, Lord Soren!" Both men dropped to one knee, accepting the order with roaring enthusiasm. With the integration of these 783 Steppe barbarians, Greywater Village's [Macedonian Phalanx] instantly exploded from a mere two hundred men to a colossal, thousand-strong formation! At this exact moment, the overall military might of Greywater Village had achieved a terrifying, complete metamorphosis!...... Inside the highest high-stilt command cabin of Greywater Village.

The battlefield recording scholar, Lucia, sat across a wide mahogany desk. Her breathing was even more rapid now than when she had faced the Orc charge at the Broken Blade Mountains. Sitting opposite her was the man who had just miraculously absorbed the remnants of the Steppe barbarians, the man whose name now shook the heavens—the Deputy Border Commander of the Silvermoon Kingdom, Soren. Soren had changed out of his blood-stained armor into a clean, sharply tailored linen casual suit.

With relaxed, graceful movements, he lifted a brass kettle and poured Lucia a steaming cup of hot berry tea.

"Drink some hot tea to ward off the chill, Lady Lucia. The courage you displayed at the Broken Blade Mountains deserves the highest of respect." Soren smiled, his tone so gentle and refined that it completely belied the image of a warlord who had just waded through a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood. He looked more like a cultured noble. But Lucia couldn't care less about the tea. Her azure eyes were blazing bright, a charcoal pencil gripped tightly in her hand.

Even before the man could officially begin the interview, she could no longer suppress her inner excitement. Speaking rapidly, she excitedly recounted the illustrious battle record Greywater Village had achieved since its inception.

"Commander Soren, please forgive my lack of composure, but the military miracles you have engineered are sending shockwaves through the entire academic world of military history!" Lucia's voice trembled slightly with raw emotion as she recounted the moments that were currently terrifying the entire human alliance:"From your initial use of lethal toxins to annihilate the Shaman's heavily armored escort unit without shedding a single drop of your own men's blood."

"To the Sunken Bone Shallows, where you led your forces head-on against those mountain-sized Sons of Titan, dying the entire shoal red with the blood of behemoths."

"And the heart-stopping night raid at Shattered Bone Pass, where you shattered a full five-hundred-strong unit of heavily equipped Black Iron Orcs under the cover of darkness!" Lucia spoke faster and faster, her charcoal pencil scratching frantically across the parchment. Every word oozed with profound admiration for the brilliant tactician sitting before her.

"But what shocked me—no, what shocked the entire Human Alliance the most—was your absolute death-trap ambush at the Soul-Severing Gorge!"

"That was the high-level inspection delegation of the Blood Province! You didn't just annihilate their Black Steel guards; you severed the head of the Blood Province Governor's own nephew with a single sword strike! You even decapitated that high-and-mighty Provincial Oracle!" Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Listening to Lucia's highly charged, dramatic recounting, Soren simply leaned back in his chair.

His hands were neatly folded in his lap, his expression the picture of humility. Waiting for Lucia to pause for a breath, Soren finally spoke in a slow, measured tone.

"Lady Lucia, you flatter me far too much. The primary reason for our total victory at the gorge ambush was not my personal martial prowess. It was built upon a foundation of hyper-accurate intelligence." Lucia instantly sat up straight, her pencil hovering over the parchment. Her sharp instincts immediately locked onto the core word:"Intelligence?" Soren leaned forward slightly, the firelight flickering across his face. The polite smile vanished from his lips in an instant.

He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper:"That arrogant, untouchable nephew of the Governor, Young Master Mogg... he was a coward." Soren's tone dripped with contempt. Every word he spoke hit Lucia with the force of a psychological sledgehammer:"When he was trapped in our encirclement with absolutely no way out, that 'honorable' Young Master knelt in the filthy mud and surrendered to humanity."

"And to buy back his worthless life, he voluntarily sold out the core details of Shadow Priest Zagar's infiltration and assassination plot against Grand Duke Valentine!"

"What?!" Lucia gasped loudly, the charcoal pencil snapping cleanly in half in her hand. The Governor's own nephew surrendered to humans? And sold out the Orcs' strategic assassination plan?! Once this news hit the papers, it would be an apocalyptic, earth-shattering scandal!

"Unfortunately for him, I do not accept the surrender of animals. So, I took his head anyway," Soren added casually, his tone utterly indifferent. This was Soren's true objective. He wanted to use Lucia's written reports to publicly broadcast this "inside scoop" to the entire Human Alliance! He understood the Orc Alliance's twisted sense of honor and their vicious clan rivalries all too well.

Once this report found its way back to the Blood Province, what would those high-ranking military clans—who were already deeply dissatisfied with the Governor—think? And if Shadow Priest Zagar discovered that his near-suicidal assassination plot was compromised entirely because of the Governor's nephew's betrayal, how would he react? This wasn't an interview to boast about battle records. This was a psychological masterclass in political warfare!

He was intentionally planting a ticking time bomb of distrust and infighting at the very highest echelons of the Orc leadership! Lucia, entirely unaware of the venomous geopolitical scheme playing out, merely felt that Commander Soren was not only a tactical genius but a man with a terrifyingly sharp insight into the enemy's psyche. She quickly grabbed a fresh charcoal pencil and scribbled furiously.

"Commander Soren, in order for the entire human race to fully comprehend your contributions, could you disclose the exact casualty figures of your recent campaigns?" Lucia asked, calming her racing heart and returning to a scholar's rigor. Soren gave a slight nod. His calm tone delivered numbers so steeped in blood they carried a suffocating weight:"Through several divided engagements, the forces of Greywater Village have completely annihilated 2, 174 Orcs."

"This includes the Lizardmen Squadron specializing in swamp ambushes, heavily armored Black Iron Orcs, and the Governor's direct Black Steel Orc guards." Soren picked up his teacup and gently blew on the steaming surface.

"Furthermore, we have slain four mountain-sized Ironclad Earth Dragons, utilized heavy ballista anti-air batteries to shoot down six adult Wyverns, and utterly routed a five-thousand-strong Orc army at the Broken Blade Mountains."

"As for high-ranking enemy officers—including Mogg, the Oracle, and Centurions—the count is roughly thirteen." Even though she had mentally prepared herself, hearing this horrifying battle record, accurate down to the single digit, left Lucia overwhelmingly awestruck. Starting with a paltry force of just a few hundred men, he had carved out a glorious record in a matter of months that rivaled the achievements of an entire main Imperial Legion. What kind of heaven-defying commander was this?!

Yet, in the face of a combat record that would make any other general insufferably arrogant, Soren displayed an astoundingly magnanimous spirit. He stood up and walked over to the massive map of the Misty Swamp hanging on the wall, reaching out to tap a few small flags representing allied forces.

"Lucia, I do not want the name 'Soren' to be the only one that appears in your report." Soren looked back over his shoulder, his expression exceptionally solemn, his words filled with profound respect for his allies:"Glory is not mine to claim alone."

"In this brutal theatre behind enemy lines, Commander Leona of the Crimson Moon Knights, and Elena, the combat medic of the Church of the Bright Moon, have both contributed immensely." He slid his finger northward.

"And we must not forget Commander Galahad and General Gabriel holding the line at Ironwood Fortress. They have pinned down the main Orc forces, making our operations possible."