Ambush

Day Four...

Ragon hadn't slept in the last four days as he planned everything he would be doing; he wanted it to be perfect. Not only that, he had been training every single member of his team in physical combat. Some, who had only a small amount of energy, broke through and became one-star warriors.

Ragon had successfully devised the best plan that would ensure their victory in the fight.

During this time, Ragon had gone with the shadow team to scout the layout. He had successfully detected their food areas, weaponry locations, and all the important sites they needed to take down. It was time for them to embark on that journey.

Ragon and all the team members were in a room, and to the surprise of many, they were being painted like orcs and adorned with minimal horns.

Ragon didn't just recruit men; he wasn't one to discriminate. He also had some women on his team, though they didn't have roles that would be life-threatening like the men.

Some of the women were makeup artists, and they were so skilled that they had transformed Ragon and his men into full-fledged orcs that no one would recognize. Meanwhile, other girls were responsible for making their clothes, and they did a perfect job; there was little difference between their leather skirts and those of the orcs.

"Nice job, ladies!" Ragon stared at the mirror as he saw his reflection. He never expected that a small village like this would have so many talented people.

Ragon stood up from his seat and looked at his men's faces; he saw no trace of humanity left. Even the Craft Light team helped ensure they crafted fake muscular arms for them and painted them green to match the orcish arms, blending perfectly.

"All men with me! We shall take back the lands that your fathers and mothers toiled for, and I promise you that I won't leave until this land is free from the orcs!" Ragon thumped his chest in a gesture of sincerity.

"All hail the King!" they all replied, joyous at the fact that their king was very brave. This alone boosted their morale to fight by his side.

Ragon could see the courage in their eyes and was extremely happy because that burning fire was exactly what he needed to win this fight.

"With me!" Ragon raised his hands as he held a club, gesturing to them.

"Yaaah!" They all raised their clubs too as they stood up from their makeup seats and followed Ragon closely behind as they headed toward the orc camp.

************

It was nighttime, and close to a thousand men, all disguised as orcs, were hiding in the bushes as they watched the movements of the orc camp.

"Bring in the boats," Ragon ordered.

He signaled for some of the men to follow him as they brought in small boats.

"Sabotage and shadow teams, with me," Ragon commanded.

"Defense team, you will hold the line in case we don't return. We give our lives for the safety of our families," Ragon declared.

"Yes, sir," they all responded softly, so as not to alert the orcs, as they began to paddle toward the orc camp.

Some men remained stationed as the defense team, ready to respond if the orcs broke through.

After an hour of paddling across the river, they initiated their first plan: to redirect some of the orc forces out of the camp.

They were close to the shore when one of the orcs caught sight of the numerous small boats and was surprised to see orcs on board, especially since their leader hadn't yet given orders.

"Which team are you with?" the curious orc asked Ragon, who was the first to land on shore.

"I am—" Before Ragon could complete his statement, he swiftly drew a dagger, covered the orc's mouth, and in the next moment, he slashed his neck, causing greenish blood to spray out.

"Decoy team!" Ragon pointed into the distance, and they immediately understood what to do.

The decoy team set some trees on fire and began to mimic orcish cries, shouting, "Fire! Fire!" They showed great courage; otherwise, they wouldn't have been able to accomplish the task of getting so close to an orc.

Across the camp, guttural roars echoed as the orcs scrambled to assess the sudden fire. Their leader, Grel'thak, a towering brute with a jagged blade strapped to his back, stomped out of his tent. His voice boomed like thunder.

"Who dares attack my domain?" Grel'thak snarled, his eyes scanning the chaos.

Several lower-ranking orcs stumbled forward, clearly confused.

"Chief, the western forest is ablaze! It could be those filthy Bonecrushers," one suggested nervously, referencing a rival orc clan.

Another orc chimed in, "Or maybe it's the Stone Fangs. They've been eyeing our territory for moons."

"Silence, fools!" Grel'thak barked, smacking one of the orcs aside with his massive hand. "Gather fifty warriors and investigate. If it's another clan, bring me their heads."

The orc commander's orders were followed without question. Within moments, a group of heavily armed orcs mounted their dire wolves and charged into the forest, leaving the camp more vulnerable.

With the decoy successful, Ragon signaled for the sabotage team to move in. They slipped through the shadows, their painted green skin blending seamlessly with the camp's murky lighting.

"Remember the plan: poison, traps, then retreat," Ragon murmured to his team. He moved like a phantom, his steps silent and precise.

At the edge of the camp, a large barrel of water stood unguarded near a bonfire. Two sabotage team members worked quickly, crushing poisonous herbs and dumping the mixture into the barrel.

"Poison's in," one whispered.

Elsewhere, another group infiltrated the food storage tent. They sliced open sacks of grain, scattering pungent powders designed to cause sickness. Meanwhile, the shadow team placed tripwires and concealed pits near the weaponry caches, setting the stage for maximum confusion.

"He will have no idea what hit him," Ragon muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips.

As the sabotage team worked, chaos continued to spread among the orcs.

"Why isn't the fire out yet?" one orc grumbled, eyeing the distant flames.

"Shut up and grab your axe," another growled.

Suddenly, a warrior tripped over a hidden wire, triggering an explosive trap that sent rocks flying in all directions.

"Ambush! We're under attack!" the injured orc howled, clutching his bloodied leg.

Orcs rushed in every direction, some colliding with each other, others barking contradictory orders.

"Where's the chief?" one shouted.