He paused for a moment, then continued his thoughts in a low voice: "But it's true that once I reach the peak of the trainee knight rank, I can try to break through to higher levels. However, breaking through requires intensive preparations.
I can't afford to take risks right now. Transitioning from the trainee stage to the Iron Knight stage demands more than just physical enhancement.
All the chi must be refined and condensed into a chi seed, which is both complex and dangerous. I need to find a way to reduce the risks and increase my chances of a successful breakthrough."
Arthur let out a long sigh. He knew it wouldn't be easy. Most of the means that help achieve rank breakthroughs—such as treasures, tools, or techniques—were now under the control of major powers like the great aristocratic families, magical and professional guilds, and even assassin organizations.
Even if he wanted to trade for them, buy them, or borrow them, he would have to pay a high price.
The other party would likely exploit his desperate need and the fact that such resources were monopolized to raise the price or impose additional conditions...
Still, those valuable resources were essential, and he had to obtain them to achieve the best possible results.
"I won't risk attempting a breakthrough if the odds of success are too low..."
As Arthur gazed at the lands and regions surrounding the fortress shimmering on the horizon, he felt a wave of hesitation and anxiety.
While he was aware of the great opportunities that awaited him in those battles, he also understood the grave dangers he might face once he got involved in the war.
Nevertheless, he recognized the importance of the treasures and potions the kingdom might provide if he were to trade them for military merit on the battlefield.
It served as a backup plan in case he couldn't find another way.
Every military merit was incredibly valuable and had numerous uses. And once the war ended, he might not find another chance to acquire them.
"Fortunately, I'm now at the frontlines, where I can quickly gain rewards—as long as I possess the necessary military strength.
If I were elsewhere and wanted to make gains without provoking hostile powers, it would take years, and I might not even be able to make any progress at all."
...
Beneath the dense tree shadows, in the heart of the dark forest, the orc chieftains had gathered in one of the temporary villages they had established near the stone fortress.
Black leather tents were scattered haphazardly, and the low flames of campfires cast dancing shadows over the stern faces gathered around the central circle, where an old stone table stood with a tattered map of the region laid atop it.
The leaders arrived one by one, each representing a different orc lineage. Orcs were divided into diverse tribes, each with its own traits and advantages.
There were the mountain orcs—tall, with powerful arms and dark green or gray skin—who excelled in direct combat.
Beside them stood the forest orcs, with slender bodies and slanted eyes, known for their ability to vanish into the shadows and their exceptional agility.
Then there were the plains orcs, skilled beast hunters, capable of tracking prey for days without rest.
At the center of the circle stood Gharom Akdad, a massive warrior with prominent scars across his chest and a slanted scar on his face that nearly split it in two—earned in a past battle against humans.
He was a respected leader among the orc tribes—not because of kindness or democratic leadership, but because of his raw power and his ability to achieve lasting results.
And by results, it meant he could always provide food—usually his defeated enemies—for his tribe, Akdad, which he became chief of and took as his title, in line with orcish tradition.
But that didn't mean he lacked wisdom or was merely a muscle-brained brute—quite the opposite.
Gharom was capable of using his strengths to win support and achieve victory because he was an orc who actually used his mind, unlike what others often assumed.
He raised his deep, gravelly voice to break the silence of the gathering: "The information we've received is confirmed. The commander of the defenders and the forces stationed in the fortress have changed!"
Murmurs rose among the chieftains—some appeared angry, others skeptical.
The Iron Fortress had been a thorn in the orcs' side for months, and they all knew that any change in enemy forces now was unlikely to be in their favor—or in favor of their plans.
The reason was simple: Gharom and his forces alone were responsible for the assault on the fortress and the attempt to seize it. At the beginning of his campaign, he had launched a direct attack, but it had failed to deliver a decisive victory.
True, he had managed to reduce the number of soldiers in the fortress from 1,000 to 250, but the cost had been devastating—his own forces had dwindled from 5,000 to just 1,000.
These losses weren't just the natural consequence of battle—they were a result of chronic underestimation of the human forces in the northern kingdom.
The nobles there had long relied on passive defense, simply letting the orcs raid their supplies each winter without any real confrontation.
The orcs had assumed the commander of the Iron Fortress was just another cowardly, inexperienced noble.
But misfortune had pitted them against "The Falcon Defender", a name feared among the northern nobility: Baron Edric Falcon, known for his intense hatred of orcs due to his family's history.
In addition to this grave misjudgment, Gharom had worsened his own losses through his brutal strategy—throwing the weaker, more numerous tribes into the front lines, forcing them to fight using extreme measures.
All of this was done in hopes of achieving a swift victory that would solidify his standing before the new warlord who had united the orc tribes.
This warlord was leading an expansive campaign southward, seeking to claim new lands and plunder food supplies in preparation for the rising orc population in recent decades.
However, Gharom's ambitions weren't limited to pleasing the new leader. He was planning to use the campaign for his own benefit.
He saw the war as a golden opportunity to eliminate the nearby tribes that could pose a future threat to his own.
Once the battles were over, he would return and subjugate them, making his tribe the largest and most powerful in the region.
However, things didn't go as planned. Not only did he fail to seize the fortress, but he also found himself drowning in mounting losses.
He nearly fell into the trap of a "sunk cost fallacy," continuing to fight despite the scale of the casualties—unaware that his stubbornness might lead to the annihilation of his entire force, including the most loyal warriors from his own tribe.
If not for the intervention of one of his aides—a fellow tribesman—who managed to convince him to retreat and reconsider his strategy, both his fate and that of his army would have been total destruction, even if he had ultimately taken the fortress.
Instead of continuing with direct assaults, he switched to a war of attrition: launching repeated attacks at spaced intervals, aiming to exhaust the defenders and deplete their supplies.
Eventually, this would break their morale and create an opening he could exploit to capture the fortress.
Though orcs lack a precise understanding of how human armies operate, centuries of being "neighbors" have taught them this much: wartime supplies are limited and expensive.
Resource allocation follows priorities based on identity and background of the troops first, with strategic and military importance coming second.
Of course, this unspoken rule isn't unique to humans—it applies to all intelligent races with advanced civilizations.
The key difference is that orcs are less affected by these challenges compared to humans.
Their combative nature and adaptability to harsh environments allow them to function without relying on complex supply lines.
They are natural hunters, able to survive on whatever the land provides—meat, roots, anything edible—and continue fighting even under the harshest conditions.
With the exception of a small quantity of strategic materials, orcs can secure most of their needs from local sources.
For instance, the corpses of fallen comrades are never wasted—they are manually salvaged for anything useful. In contrast, human armies depend heavily on a constant flow of food, weapons, and equipment, making them far more vulnerable to collapse if their supply lines are disrupted.
This strategic difference grants the orcs a clear advantage in prolonged wars, as they can continue fighting until the enemy gradually collapses from a lack of supplies and increasing exhaustion.
Now, after discovering that the human forces and their commander in the fortress had changed, Gharom began weighing the potential gains and losses.
At first glance, they had gotten rid of Baron Edric Falcon, the persistent thorn in their side, and his elite troops who had survived multiple bloody battles.
These forces were now replaced by troops who were likely less experienced in warfare and possibly driven by hatred rather than discipline.
But that didn't necessarily mean the new forces were weaker—on the contrary, they were stronger.
Being a replacement army likely meant they were fully staffed and well-supplied, which strongly indicated that the humans' fallback plan had either failed or was on the verge of failure.
Drogel Ainod, one of the commanders in this army, struck the ground with his spear, furrowed his brows, and said firmly:
"Do you have any information about the identity of this new commander and his troops? We don't want to fall into another trap like last time and lose most of our soldiers in the first encounter!"
When Drogel said these words, he emphasized the word "loss" and looked directly at their leader, Gharom—making his point clear to the rest of the commanders.
His words stirred up visible tension, especially as they reminded everyone of the painful truth.
He was pointing to the devastating loss caused by Gharom's selfish decisions, which visibly unsettled the warlord.
"Drogel, what do you mean by that?" Gharom barked loudly, angered by the implication that his leadership was in question. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Gharom nearly rose from his seat to confront him head-on, but stopped abruptly when his advisor Akkar grabbed his shoulder from behind—a swift, subtle movement that almost no one noticed.
In truth, this wasn't the first time Drogil had brought up the subject.
Over the past few months, he had been trying to undermine Gherom's authority and prestige within the army—so much so that Gherom often considered drawing his axe and splitting Drogil's head in two.
However, every time, Akar would stop him and advise against it, warning that such an act could anger the other commanders and potentially lead to them allying against him.
Especially since Drogil had come to represent the voice of the commanders in the army regarding the unreasonable losses they had suffered due to Gherom's decisions.
Additionally, Drogil was the chieftain of the Ainod tribe, and he commanded his tribe's forces within the army.
Their numbers were second only to the forces of the Akdad tribe.
This made him an even greater threat, particularly with the growing internal conflict in the army, which could lead to its destruction from within—without a single human soldier needing to attack.
To keep the meeting under control and prevent his clan leader from falling into another fit of rage that Drogil might exploit, Akar quickly signaled to one of the orcs lurking in the shadows to step forward.
The orc was lean, dressed in dark clothing, and hailed from a tribe known among the others as the "Light Zerg."
The members of this tribe were skilled in infiltrating enemy camps without being detected, and they had extensive experience gathering information using various clues.
Currently, they were stationed across several areas on the frontlines of this campaign, under the direction of the new orc leader who had worked to unite them, aiming to support the army with intelligence and reconnaissance.
The orc spoke in a quiet voice, though it carried a hint of cunning: "We don't have precise information about their identities yet, but there are clues… The previous military organization used by most of the besieged regions in the Kingdom of Alon is no longer in place.
Even the soldiers have begun using different methods for signaling guards and patrols. I've noticed changes in guard distribution, reinforcement of the side gates, and even rotation shifts between dawn and dusk."
One of the commanders growled—it was Kargas Banuq, an orc renowned for his ferocity in battle—as he said: "This could mean that our old plans are now useless! We can't execute the attack the way we originally intended!"
Kargas was the orc commander from the "Banuq" tribe, a group known for favoring direct combat over complex strategies.
This made him feel frustrated, as things might not proceed in the straightforward way he was used to.
But Gherom Akdad wasn't impulsive—he thought about the matter deeply, then spoke in a low voice, one that carried great weight:
"No… we must test him."
The commanders exchanged glances, and Gherom continued:
"If this new commander is inexperienced, truly like the rest of the northern nobles—unlike Edric—then we'll take advantage of that. We'll lure him to where we want him, and strike directly. Even if the humans outnumber us, defeating us in open combat is impossible."