A Quiet Assassination

Before leaving Dolon City, although they didn't gather any useful information, they did find out when the Sand Scorpion Mercenary Group was setting out, allowing Baroque and his party to return to the Gravel Desert ahead of time.

The orcs rode horses, while the Wald Caravan moved slowly on desert beasts, so Baroque and his orcs could bury their tribe's remains, hold a totem ceremony to appease the spirits, and choose a relatively safe temporary settlement. Three days later, the scouts returned with news—the caravan had entered the Gravel Desert!

Baroque only took forty young orcs, leaving the fifty-six older ones behind with food and weapons from his storage ring. He told old Ziyad, "Grandpa Ziyad, the Gravel Desert is too dangerous. You all stay here and take care of these horses. These are the best Blando warhorses, so take good care of them! We'll bring back the heads of our enemies to honor our fallen. Until then, stay safe. I've left enough food for half a month, so you don't need to hunt. Wait for our return!"

Knowing they would be a burden, Ziyad nodded, hugged Baroque with a smile, and said, "Good child, we'll await your good news. All of you must come back safely! Using the blood and heads of our enemies to honor the spirits is the best gift. Then we'll tell our ancestors... our tribe's new chief is born, stronger and wiser, and will lead us to prosperity!"

"Grandpa Ziyad, Baroque will surely lead us to strength and prosperity, but he can't help us reproduce. We need women for that, and even with his powerful shaman magic, he can't conjure wives for us!" Angrey said, waving his giant battle axe, causing everyone to laugh, their recent gloom gradually dispelling, replaced by a burning desire for revenge.

"Don't worry, women will come, and children too. One day, our tribe will grow stronger, and everyone will remember our name!" Baroque shouted, leading his tribe into the vast desert.

...............

Having heard about the harsh climate of the Gravel Desert, it wasn't until entering it that Wald realized how truly severe it was. Constant sandstorms filled their mouths and noses with a gritty taste, despite covering their faces. The temperature swings were extreme: scorching hot at noon, freezing cold at night, even with two animal hides wrapped around them.

The most terrifying part was the constant danger. As the caravan leader, Wald rode a desert beast. Yesterday, he saw a mercenary kick a stone and fall, screaming horribly before dying within minutes, a black scorpion the size of a hand emerging from the crevice. Captain Sava angrily killed the scorpion, but could only warn everyone not to make reckless moves.

Wald reassured himself it was just an accident and made sure the caravan guarded against any poisonous creatures.

Their caution paid off. They avoided a scorpion nest and killed a sand snake without casualties, even adding the snake to their dinner menu.

As evening fell, the sun's rays still harsh, the temperature dropped sharply. Everyone put on their thick clothes from noon but still felt cold. Unable to travel at night, Wald reluctantly ordered them to camp.

They unloaded the cargo, forming a barrier with the large desert beasts to shield against the wind. The mercenaries set up tents inside this circle, with the caravan members in the center, fulfilling their duty to protect them.

Wald personally fed the beasts a mix of black beans and salt for energy. They could only gather enough moss and dry shrubs to heat water, so dinner was dry bread and salted meat.

Aware of the journey's hardships, no one complained. After eating, the caravan wrapped in hides to rest while the mercenaries took turns keeping watch, the camp quiet except for the howling wind. They had no idea that a group of orcs was watching their every move from a distant rocky area.

Night had fully fallen, and even the alert sentries were weary. If they attacked now, most humans would die... just like their tribe did years ago.

But Baroque had no intention of a raid. He sat quietly on a rock, reviewing shaman spells on a beast hide. Since mastering the Frost Wolf's Ice Blade, his shaman power hadn't progressed. Despite constant training, his soul sea hadn't grown and even seemed to shrink, puzzling and worrying him, as his shaman power was crucial for leading his tribe to rise.

He planned to memorize all the shaman spells on the hides, hoping to find answers. The lack of moonlight didn't hinder his night vision as he read.

The forty young orcs, however, grew restless. Unable to contain himself, Angrey approached Baroque and asked cautiously, "Baroque, when do we act? It's midnight, and those humans are fast asleep. We could sneak up and kill them without them knowing."

"Oh? Getting impatient?" Baroque asked without looking up.

"Yeah, my axe is itching to taste enemy blood!" Angrey said, brandishing his huge axe with a fierce grin.

"Alright, take three others and try sneaking up on them. Only kill the four sentries and immediately retreat, even if the others don't wake. Disobey me, and I won't bring you next time, understood?" Baroque said, looking up at Angrey.

Feeling the pressure of Baroque's gaze, Angrey nodded hastily. Baroque waved him off to choose his companions.

Among the forty young orcs, some had emerged as leaders: the steady Mulu, the timid but powerful Barotan, the fearless and forthright Angrey, and another named Zainzu. Zainzu couldn't speak, having been captured by human mercenaries and watched his parents be killed. In his fury, he cursed the mercenaries until Huda cut out his tongue. This experience made Zainzu the most ruthless towards humans. During the battle at Delta Manor, he killed the most, decapitating every foe.

Angrey hesitated to bring Zainzu, fearing he might lose control, but Zainzu's wolf-like eyes forced him to relent. "Fine, you can come, but remember, kill the sentries and retreat immediately, or we're no longer brothers, got it?" he warned.

Zainzu said nothing, as he couldn't, and tossed aside his huge axe, keeping only a short sword, mocking the others.

For a stealth attack, giant axes were impractical. The noise of chopping would alert everyone. Reluctantly, Angrey and the others dropped their axes and armed themselves with short swords. The four then disappeared into the night.

Baroque, still reading, kept an eye on them. Once they left, he put away the hide and watched their every move. He worried about their first assassination mission.

His worries were unfounded. Mulu was the first to silently kill a sentry, covering his mouth and stabbing his heart. Barotan and Angrey also swiftly killed their targets. Finally, Zainzu, facing a sentry on a high rock, threw a small stone to distract him, then leapt up and drove his sword through the man's head, killing him instantly. The four young orcs completed their task with unexpected ease.

The caravan beasts sensed the attackers and grew uneasy, but the camp remained quiet, everyone exhausted from the day's travel.

Zainzu, tempted to move forward, was pulled back by Angrey's stern look. Reluctantly, he followed the others back to their group.

A quiet assassination, unnoticed by anyone.