No Escape

The sudden appearance of the orcs had left the members of the Scorpion Mercenary Group in a state of utter panic. Even after repelling the orcs' attack, their fear could not be dispelled. No one knew better than them what they had done. It had only been two years since they had destroyed the orc tribes of the Gravel Wasteland.

At this moment, the basest human nature was on full display. Sawa and Huda reached a consensus: they needed to leave the Gravel Wasteland immediately. As for the caravan… compared to their lives, breaking a contract was nothing!

Poor Wald tried everything to persuade Sawa, but Sawa was determined to withdraw with his men. This damned Gravel Wasteland was the orcs' home, making it too passive and dangerous to stay. Seeing the mercenary guards preparing to leave, Wald's hired hands naturally wouldn't stay to die. In no time, the caravan disbanded, leaving Wald on the verge of tears, staring at the quiet desert camels lying on the ground. It wasn't that no one thought of using the camels… after all, although slow, they were faster than walking and saved energy. But surprisingly, neither the mercenaries nor the caravan workers could get the camels to budge. These large animals just lay there, refusing to move, even tucking their heads under their chests.

Helpless, the mercenaries had to retreat on foot. Most of the caravan workers followed them, and soon their figures disappeared from sight. Wald and a few loyal workers were left looking at each other in despair.

It was still noon, but the sky had inexplicably darkened. Looking up, the sky turned a dull yellow. Wald felt a sense of unease. The camels huddled together, lowering their heads even more.

"Dammit, it's a sandstorm! Quick, find shelter!" Wald had studied the weather of the Gravel Wasteland before entering. Seeing the distant horizon filled with yellow dust, he knew a sandstorm was coming. No wonder the camels refused to get up; their keen senses had already detected the danger!

Running around would be futile; staying by the camels was the best option. Wald and the others hurriedly donned leather armor, wrapped their heads in burlap, and huddled among the camels. They covered themselves with thick animal hides and peeked through small gaps as the sandstorm rapidly approached.

The fierce wind carried stones, covering the entire world in dark sand and dust. The howling wind sounded like the wails of the undead, with fine sand drilling into their noses, ears, and mouths. Wald and the others huddled tightly together, clinging to the camels as the wind raged above. Without these large animals as a shield, they would have been blown away and pelted by stones. Despite this, the camels groaned in pain as fist-sized or even head-sized rocks fell from the sky, hitting their thick hides.

Meanwhile, the orcs, native to this land, had long predicted the coming sandstorm and found a cave in the rocky area for shelter. They had eradicated a nest of sand scorpions inside and now, forty orcs huddled in the cave, roasting the delicious sand scorpion meat while watching the storm through the dim wind, guessing the humans' fate.

The resilience of orcs was astonishing. Zainzu, who was severely injured and unconscious yesterday, could now sit and enjoy roasted sand scorpion meat with his tribe. The others, with minor injuries, were already fine. Everyone knew it was thanks to Barok's shamanic healing techniques, which were indeed powerful.

No wonder humans wanted to destroy the orcish shamanic traditions!

Barok held many secrets that humans feared. If these secrets were revealed, it would attract numerous human experts to hunt him down. But he trusted his tribe and did not hide anything from them.

Yesterday's battle had yielded some gains. Barotan had successfully unleashed his first burst of beast battle energy, marking his transformation into a powerful beast warrior. Barok named this type of warrior "Rage Warrior" because Barotan's beast battle energy required anger as a trigger but remained under rational control, unlike the human berserkers who lost their reason in rage.

Sitting by the fire, Barok gave Barotan some pointers on cultivating beast battle energy. The other tribesmen looked on with envy, wishing they could possess such power. However, they knew such talent depended on luck, not effort.

"In this weather, do you think those damned mercenaries will die in the sandstorm? That would be too easy on them!" Angler, restless, looked at the raging sand outside and couldn't help but ask.

Barok had broken his promise. The first time he drank with Lark, he got so drunk that he swore never to drink again the next day. But today, the sandstorm confined them to the cave, with nothing to do but wait. Eating the uniquely flavored sand scorpion meat, Barok couldn't resist taking out a bottle of Odrea royal wine from Alvin's storage ring. He poured it into a few cups and savored it. Perhaps it was psychological, but Barok actually tasted some unique flavors. Although still sour, it wasn't as awful as the first time.

The orcs couldn't enjoy this luxury; they preferred coarse barley beer, gulping it down in large swigs. They couldn't understand how Barok found this sour drink so enjoyable.

"Don't worry. Even if a few unlucky ones die in the sandstorm, most of the mercenaries will survive," Barok called to the restless Angler. "Come and eat more. We'll need our strength to chase them once the storm is over."

Angler obediently joined the fire, taking the sand scorpion meat handed by a companion. As he ate, he casually asked, "Barok, what about the human caravan? Should we kill them all?"

Wald and his few loyal workers huddled by the camels, enduring the sandstorm's fury. Through the dim wind outside the cave, they could still faintly see their figures, though mostly buried in sand and gravel.

"Let's capture them and take them back. They might be useful. Any caravan that can travel with thirty camels in the Gravel Wasteland must be wealthy. We can demand ransom from their families," Barok said, smacking his lips.

"Hey, Barok, won't that make us bandits?" Angler exclaimed in surprise.

"Sit down, you fool!" Muru scolded. "Humans can slaughter us and enslave us, so why can't we ransom them? Barok's idea is excellent; we can do this regularly."

"I wasn't disagreeing, just surprised!" Angler muttered, feeling wronged, but Muru glared at him. Barok smiled, ignoring their banter. In the harsh sandstorm, the Scorpion Mercenary Group struggled in the desert, unable to avoid paying a price. Moreover, only this rocky area had caves for shelter; the rest was flat gravel land with no hiding places.

This sandstorm wouldn't stop for at least three to five hours. When it subsided, the mercenaries would be exhausted, and the orcs could easily capture them.

---

Sawa led the remaining forty-odd mercenaries, abandoning Wald's caravan, and retreated under the scorching midday sun. They had no choice; the vengeful orcs wouldn't stop chasing them. If it were just ordinary orcs, the mercenaries wouldn't worry. But the leader, Barok, was terrifyingly powerful. Sawa, Huda, and Misa's combined battle energy strike was easily blocked by him. They realized he could slaughter them effortlessly.

Moreover, the orcs had a mysterious beast aiding them. Sawa had never seen a wolf-like beast that could change size from a small cat to a horse. It swiftly exploited the formation's weaknesses, tearing open a mercenary's throat. Sawa knew his formation couldn't compare to a full military formation. If that beast attacked persistently, it could easily break their formation.

Though unsure why the orcs retreated, this was a rare chance to escape. If they didn't flee now, they would die in the wasteland. Sawa and Huda quickly agreed to abandon the caravan and flee. Many caravan workers also wanted to leave. Cunning Huda and Sawa didn't object. They didn't care if the workers fell behind, and if the orcs pursued, the workers could serve as shields.

Their plan seemed good, but only a few miles from Wald's caravan, the sky darkened completely, and the sandstorm struck! Everyone was stunned.

Frantically looking for shelter, they found none on the flat ground. Sawa had led mercenaries into the wasteland before and knew the danger of sandstorms. Without proper shelter, the three battle energy warriors might survive, but the other mercenaries would be crushed by the flying rocks.

The wind howled, and yellow sand filled the air, choking their noses and mouths. Egg-sized stones began to fall, causing pain. Seeing the workers running aimlessly, Sawa and Huda exchanged a grim, ruthless look.

They drew their swords, unleashed their battle energy, and quickly slaughtered the twenty-odd workers, piercing their hearts. The mercenaries were shocked, staring in terror.

"Damn fools, pile up these bodies to block the storm!" Sawa shouted.

The mercenaries understood and hurriedly complied.