Chương 177: 177：The Decapitation Plan

"Understood, my Lord." His bodyguard, Lyra, dropped lightly from her stance, her petite frame instantly melting into the pitch-black night beyond the door.

"My Lord, we've figured it out." Meyer dragged his exhausted yet completely hyperactive body forward. Not even bothering to wipe the foul mud dripping from his face, he dug into a waterproof leather pouch at his waist, pulled out several mottled, engraved bone tags, and slammed them onto the long table.

"By utilizing the Goblin scout network and my own deep-cover tracking, we finally have a concrete explanation for those bizarre, large-scale Orc troop movements we noticed earlier.

"It's not an encirclement campaign aimed at Greywater Village. Instead, an inspection delegation comprised of high-ranking military officers from the Orcish Alliance's Blood Province has arrived! As of two days ago, they have fully entered the borders of the Misty Swamp!" Hearing this, Soren's right hand, which had been holding a charcoal pencil, abruptly stopped. The tactical intuition granted by his [Military Command Mastery] flared to life in an instant.

Meyer traced his finger rapidly across the map:"The arrival of these VIPs has forced Warchief Blackstone to mobilize his forces en masse.

"To guarantee the safety of these upper-echelon Warlords, all the Orc wolf cavalry and Bloodaxe Guards stationed on the outer perimeter of the Misty Swamp have been emergency-drafted. They've been sent to build bridges, pave roads, secure the route, and escort that massive convoy.

"Look here, my Lord!" Meyer's finger stabbed heavily onto several red circles marked on the map.

"This reckless, massive draft has created fatal gaps in the Orcs' originally airtight patrol lines!

"This outpost fifteen miles from us used to be garrisoned by three hundred elites. Now? Only sixty old, crippled peons are left guarding their grain.

"And over here, their defensive line has been pushed back a full three miles!" Meyer grew increasingly agitated, his voice rising in sheer excitement.

"My Lord! This is a godsend! I suggest we take immediate advantage of this perfect window of vulnerability! We deploy the Wolf Cavalry Battalion and the Half-Elf Rangers tonight!

"Using the cover of darkness, we can drive straight into their territory and uproot three of their outer outposts in one fell swoop!

"Not only will we plunder a massive haul of winter wheat and dried meat, but we can also easily wipe out several isolated Orc squads along the way!" Meyer licked his chapped lips.

"Once we're done, we simply retreat behind our concealment array. With their troops severely bogged down right now, they wouldn't be able to spare a single soldier to retaliate!" This was, without a doubt, an incredibly safe, high-yield tactical plan. Strike the enemy's soft spots and seize strategic supplies. However. Soren gently set down his charcoal pencil. He didn't show a hint of approval. Instead, he steepled his fingers beneath his chin, his gaze analytical as he studied the fiercely excited Meyer.

"Meyer, if this were the past, I would give your battle plan a perfect score.

"But things are different now.

"Uproot outposts? Steal grain? How does petty thievery like that match the strategic ambitions of an army that now numbers nearly one thousand two hundred men?" Meyer froze, staring at Soren in utter disbelief.

"My Lord, you mean..." Soren slowly stood up. He bypassed the marked outposts entirely, his finger moving past the borders and landing directly on a main arterial road on the map. There, a bright red ink mark denoted the convoy of the inspection delegation.

"Since such a perfect tactical opportunity has delivered itself to my doorstep," Soren said, a cold sneer forming on his lips, "I am going to use this once-in-a-lifetime gap to launch a massive operation—one capable of inflicting a lethal blow upon the Orcish Alliance!

"I am going to annihilate that high-ranking inspection delegation from the Blood Province." Buzz! Hearing this, Meyer's mind reeled in absolute shock. Hit by the sheer audacity of the claim, he staggered backward two full steps.

"My... my Lord! Are you insane?!" Loyal as he was, Meyer couldn't help but cry out in sheer panic.

"That is a high-ranking officer corps from the entire Orcish Alliance's Blood Province!

"There are at least a hundred Warlords and priests with actual military authority in there! There might even be high-tier Shamanic Sorcerers!

"You want to use our limited forces to crash head-on into the entire inspection delegation?! That... that is pure suicide!" Soren walked around the long table and reached out, firmly patting Meyer's slightly trembling shoulder to steady the man's nerves.

"Meyer, you need to understand the logic of war." Utilizing modern military doctrines fundamentally alien to this world, Soren enlightened his subordinate.

"What is a strategic center of gravity?

"The enemy's outposts are merely their outer defensive perimeter. Even if you completely obliterate those lines, the loss is not fatal to an army of a hundred thousand Orcs. A few days later, fresh recruits will simply plug the holes.

"But what is this high-ranking inspection delegation?" Soren's killing intent flared violently.

"They are the central nervous system sent by the Blood Province to oversee the war! They are the ruling class, holding vast military authority! Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"We don't need to wipe them out completely. We just need to find an opening to butcher even ten of their core, high-ranking officers! Then, we immediately retreat!

"If this inspection delegation suffers heavy casualties right in Warchief Blackstone's own territory, what will the upper echelons of the Blood Province think?

"They will ruthlessly punish Blackstone for his failure to protect them! This will inevitably trigger a massive political earthquake and brutal infighting among the Orc high command!

"When that happens, the destructive power generated by their internal paranoia and command paralysis will achieve a miraculous effect that uprooting ten outposts could never match!" To leapfrog from mere strategic harassment straight into the realm of political decapitation and psychological deterrence! Hearing Soren's meticulously calculated and utterly ruthless logic, the terror in Meyer's heart evaporated, instantly replaced by a rabid excitement as he finally saw the grand chessboard.

"Your foresight is unparalleled, my Lord! I understand completely!" Meyer hammered his fist against his breastplate.

"I will immediately scatter every single Goblin scout we have! We will bite onto their march route like rabid dogs and scout out the absolute perfect kill zone for you!"

"Get it done. By tomorrow night, I want an exact route map." Watching Meyer sprint madly out the door, Soren turned around. He was in no rush to summon his generals. Instead, he sat back down in the shadows, his mind churning through tactical variables, silently awaiting the perfect moment to strike. Meanwhile. In the deepest heart of the Misty Swamp lay a colossal stronghold: Bloodfang Fortress. This was the central command of Warchief Blackstone.

Thick pig-iron pillars held massive braziers fueled by a mixture of wood and human fat. The flickering flames cast a ghastly, macabre glow over the grand hall. Warchief Blackstone sat squarely upon a massive throne. The terrifyingly hulking Orc was currently massaging his temples in sheer frustration. Ever since the Siege of Lone Cliff, where his five-hundred-strong Bloodaxe Battalion had been entirely annihilated by Soren, a suffocating rage had been ceaselessly burning away at his sanity.

Were it not for the grander scheme of their southern invasion, he would have emptied the fortress long ago to grind that human named Soren into a bloody paste. But what truly gave him a splitting headache was the current political climate. The disastrous defeat at Lone Cliff had cast a terrible shadow. The news had reached the rear lines, sending those arrogant, high-and-mighty noble elders of the Blood Province into an absolute frenzy of rage.

While the primary reason this incoming high-ranking inspection delegation was arriving was to observe Zagar's decapitation tactics, Warchief Blackstone knew better than anyone else. Those damned VIPs were also coming to hold him accountable. If he couldn't display the apocalyptic, destructive might of the Blackstone Warband in the coming days, the Blood Province could very well use 'incompetence' as an excuse to strip him of his command over the hundred-thousand-strong army!

"Warchief..." A hoarse whisper, accompanied by waves of bizarre energy fluctuations, shattered the oppressive silence of the hall. The flames in the braziers violently swayed, their hue unnervingly shifting from a bright orange to a sickly, abyssal purple. Cloaked in an oppressive aura of darkness, the Shadow Priest, Zagar, slowly coalesced into physical form at the base of the throne. He wore tattered robes, his face hidden entirely beneath an oversized hood, surrounded by a churning vortex of pure shadow magic.

Zagar slowly raised his head. Beneath that hood, there was no face—only two orbs of burning purple fire.

"You are feeling an immense sense of anxiety and rage, Warchief. Understandable, given that those greedy, pampered 'guests' are about to arrive."

"I am here to solve your problems, Warchief. The grand nobles of the Blood Province wish to witness our terrifying might? Fine! Then we shall serve them an unprecedented feast of slaughter!

"Are they not dissatisfied with our loss of the high ground at Lone Cliff?

"Then, during their visit, right before their very eyes, we will achieve a heaven-shaking merit that will shock the entire Orcish Alliance!

"Once that happens, not only will all their doubts vanish like smoke, but the provincial high command will allocate even more resources, practically begging you to continue leading the southern conquest!"

"A heaven-shaking merit?" Warchief Blackstone snorted coldly.

"Easy to say." Zagar let out a chilling, raspy laugh.

"I will fulfill my previous promise. I shall lead the Son of Titan and decapitate Grand Duke Valentine!

"Once Duke Valentine's head is separated from his shoulders, that colossal stone fortress that has been eternally stuck in our throats will instantly plunge into complete paralysis!

"At that exact moment, the main force of the Blackstone Warband will ride the momentum and launch an all-out frontal assault!

"Taking a step back—even if we cannot completely shatter the walls of that stone fortress on the spot, we will inevitably deal a catastrophic blow to their core military hub!

"And if we manage to ride the wind of chaos and conquer it in one fell swoop..."