The orc general in the center took a deep breath, his chest bulging, and then a roar, amplified several times by magic and resounding like thunder throughout the entire battlefield, exploded forth:

"Hypocritical lackeys of the Holy Light! Listen up! Hand over the despicable assassins you sent! Hand over the murderers who assassinated my prince Grom!"

"If you hand over the people, I, General Kargath of Bloodhowl, swear by the souls of my ancestors, I will release both of your knightly orders and send them out of Blackwater Shallows!"

The roar carried a violent rage and a hint of barely perceptible urgency. Clearly, the humiliation of having the Bloodvine Heart stolen made them eager to find an outlet for their anger and a legitimate reason to attack.

Even knowing the true cause of Grom's death, he still wanted to pin the blame on the humans!

Faced with the roar that soared into the sky and the terrifying pressure that could break an ordinary army, Harrington, the commander of the Ninth Knights, simply sneered coldly.

His resolute face showed no fear, only a cold rage ignited by the other party's provocation.

"Assassination? Grom?" Harrington's voice, also infused with legendary-level battle aura, was steady and powerful, clearly overwhelming the clamor of the battlefield, carrying undisguised contempt. "A bunch of greenskins trapped in the swamp, eating raw meat and drinking blood, dare to talk about princes? And dare to smear my Holy Light Church?"

He swiftly drew his Holy Flame Longsword from his waist, its tip pointing directly at the orcish army. The blazing white light instantly dispelled a large swath of thick fog.

"Want to fight? Then fight! The Ninth Holy Knights have nothing to fear from you beasts who haven't even fully evolved! You think you can overwhelm a legend with sheer numbers? How laughable!"

Sensing their leader's fighting spirit, the knights around him roared in unison, holy light emanating from them, instantly forming an even more solid defensive formation.

On the other side, Count Ferdinand, the Grand Master of the Eleventh Knights, elegantly straightened the collar of his cloak, which was being blown about by the strong wind, a noble smile with a hint of mockery playing on his lips.

He didn't roar like Harrington, but his voice clearly reached everyone's ears:

"Ha, three legends, more than double the troops? That sounds pretty scary."

Ferdinand gently stroked the hilt of his command sword at his waist, his tone calm yet carrying an undeniable authority.

"However, Kargas, have you forgotten how Alfonso, when he first entered the high ranks, dared to single-handedly fight his way in and out of your royal court seven times? With this little bit of bravado, you think you can make the Grand Master of our Holy Knights bow down and hand over the hostage?"

He slightly raised his chin, his gaze sweeping over his own heavily armed and holyly-glowing ranks, finally settling on the three legendary orcs opposite him. His voice suddenly turned cold:

"Want the Bloodvine Heart? Want to avenge your reckless little prince? Then prove it with your fangs and claws! Eleventh Regiment, prepare to meet the enemy! Let these green-skinned barbarians see what a true Holy Light Iron Wall is!"

At his command, the Eleventh Knights changed formation once again. The light of the Holy Light Barrier instantly became more solid and heavy, and the chanting of the mage group in the back row suddenly rose in pitch. Countless holy light runes containing destructive energy flickered and condensed in the air.

The words and gestures of the two legendary commanders acted like two anchors, instantly dispelling the gloom brought about by the terrifying orcish army.

The Holy Knights' eyes burned with fierce fighting spirit and pride; the pressure of battle was replaced by glory and anger.

They knew the leader's power and firmly believed in the protection of the Holy Light.

The orc threat was nothing more than a battle that required them to fight with all their might to win.

As for handing over one's own people?

That would be an utterly impossible humiliation!

The banner of the Holy Light never flies low in the face of threats!

The three armies faced each other across the desolate, dark waters, their surging killing intent almost tangible.

General Kargas's roar echoed over the swamp, demanding the "murderer" be handed over, and the strong responses from Commander Harrington and Count Ferdinand only added fuel to the fire.

But this tense standoff is, on the surface, a confrontation between the orcs seeking revenge and the knights upholding their dignity.

The root of the problem, however, lies in the small, desperate team that was fleeing in panic toward the edge of the battlefield in the thick fog of the dead—the Gray Falcon Squad.

And the Bloodvine Heart, a sacred relic they might be carrying that could drive the orcs to utter madness!

Both the orcs and Harrington, the leader of the Ninth Knights, were fully aware of the situation.

We absolutely cannot allow Elliott to successfully break through with the Heart of Bloodvine and return to Alfonso Lin's hands!

The name Alfonso itself is a huge deterrent.

Even though intelligence suggests he hasn't broken through to the legendary rank yet, the madman who dared to slay through the orc royal court when he first entered the high rank back then has combat power that cannot be judged by common sense.

Once the Heart of Bloodvine falls into his hands, with his unpredictable torrent of holy flames and battlefield control, even the three orc legends and two human legends present might not be able to capture him!

The brief standoff, thick with tension, was like a bowstring stretched to its limit.

"Bullshit! Then let your blood wash away the tribe's shame! Kill—!!!"

General Kargath's patience ran out, and his massive battle axe tore through the air with a piercing shriek, breaking the balance first.

"For the Holy Light! Crush these greens!"

Commander Harrington pointed his Holy Flame Longsword forward angrily, and the heavily armored knights of the Ninth Knights pressed forward like an iron torrent.

"Eleventh Regiment, maintain formation, Holy Light Strike, cover the enemy vanguard!" Count Ferdinand's command still carried the calm of an aristocrat, methodically directing the legion.

The melee erupted the moment General Kargath uttered the word "Kill!"

The orc warriors unleashed a bloodthirsty battle cry that shattered the heavens, crashing into the steel fortress of the Ninth Knights like a raging torrent.

The heavy totem tower shield collided violently with the steel shield infused with holy light, producing a dull, thunderous roar and sending up dazzling sparks of energy.

The orc berserker roared and swung his giant axe and warhammer, while the holy knight silently thrust out his deadly lance. Each clash was accompanied by splattering blood and the loss of life as easily as grass.

In the sky, the Holy Light Arrows of the Ninth Knights clashed violently with the Corrosive Green Light Bullets and Raging Lightning Summoned by the Orc Shamans, exploding into blinding orbs of light and chaotic energy turbulence.

Behind the Eleventh Knights' position, the long-awaited holy light magic cascaded down like a golden waterfall once more.

Their target remained the area where the Ninth Regiment and the Orc Vanguard were locked in a fierce battle, recklessly creating chaos and smoke barriers.

This not only blocked the advance of the orcish reinforcements, but also effectively delayed the two elite squadrons under Harrington's command that were attempting to outflank the Grey Falcon Squadron.

However, it was precisely on this earth-shattering battlefield, where energy surged wildly, that some subtle anomalies were masked by the fierce fighting.

Whether it's the orc warrior's berserk magical arts bombarding the swampy ground, the holy knight's scorching beam of judgment sweeping across the jagged rocks, or the shaman's corrosive orbs exploding on the dead wood...

The destructive power they produce seems to be somewhat weaker than under normal circumstances.

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