King-Chapter 1380 - 265: Flood in "7 Counties"_2

Salvation was non-existent; under the baptism of the flood, the army had already descended into chaos.

Among all the orcs, aside from the flying Hawkman Clan and the expert swimmers of the Frogman Tribe, the other species suffered devastating losses.

Especially the heavy infantry and heavy cavalry clad in armor, they were the epitome of beastly tragedy. Saddled with their cumbersome iron shells, even skilled swimmers could only sink passively.

In their final moments of life, their complaints were no longer about the armor’s poor quality, but rather about its exceptional quality.

For the sake of survival, the small mounds of earth scattered across the grasslands became hotly contested sanctuaries for countless orc soldiers.

The scene of bodies crammed together immediately unfolded; some soldiers caught in the middle were even crushed to death on the spot.

The competition among the outer circle of orc soldiers was even fiercer; in the scramble for a foothold, the base instincts of the beasts were laid bare for all to see.

For survival, the stronger species launched expulsions and massacres against the weaker ones.

The "slaughter" began and could no longer be stopped.

In the struggle for survival, orc soldiers charged forward endlessly, their fresh blood dyeing the earthen mounds red.

One squad of Gryphon Cavalry passing by witnessed this horrifying scene and nearly fell out of the sky.

"Hans, why are you standing there dumbfounded? Hurry and go somewhere else!"

Indeed, there was no need for them to interfere in the orcs’ mutual slaughter.

They could wait until these creatures finished tearing each other apart, then return to mop up the remnants afterward.

Orcs caught in the flood were worse off than pigs; even the once-lofty big shots now struggled desperately to survive in the water.

For those fortunate enough to find a small mound of earth, it was as if the Beast God had blessed them; for the many others, they struggled incessantly in the floodwaters.

Even a Seventh-order Strongman, if unlucky, was just as likely to die in the vast watery expanse.

...

At Sateks Fortress, Hudson stood atop the highest point of the city wall, overlooking the turbulent floodwaters below.

"The water level is no longer rising—what a pity!

If this flood had lasted a few more days, the Orc Empire would have been consigned to history."

Thankfully, the struggling orcs in the water hadn’t heard his comments; otherwise, they would have died of sheer rage.

Scattered and broken by the flood, their army was already a mess, but Hudson still wasn’t satisfied—he wished for their total annihilation. Truly, this was...

...a loss for words!

With their limited vocabulary, they couldn’t find an apt description.

The flood lasted for over an hour before reaching its peak level within the city; no one knew how long it would take to recede.

Anyone with a bit of military sense could predict what would happen to an army soaked in water for hours.

Even if they didn’t face total annihilation, there wouldn’t be many left.

It all came down to luck now; if you camped on high ground, you might scrape out a living; if you were unlucky and stationed in a low-lying area, well, you’d better learn to swim!

Life-and-death moments pushed beings to their limit. Countless landlubbers were forced to learn swimming unwillingly.

Those who hadn’t learned by now were already floating on the water’s surface, drifting aimlessly.

Unfortunately, for those clad in armor, their fate was even grimmer—the iron dragged them straight to the bottom, giving them no chance to struggle.

"Hudson, you’re really ruthless!"

Looking toward the direction of the voice, Hudson saw a group of elves hovering in the air, glaring at him with eyes full of fury.

If murderous glares could kill, he’d have been torn to shreds by now.

"Miss Derris, don’t always meet me with such hostility!"

Hudson snapped irritably.

Though there were quite a few elves from the Sanctuary before him, Sartex Fortress was his turf, and it housed more than a few Seventh and Eighth-order masters, with Magic Crystal Cannons and Magic Crossbows lined along the walls.

Even if they fought, odds were the elves would suffer most.

Of course, it was better to avoid fighting if possible. Using Seventh and Eighth-order masters in Sanctuary warfare was tantamount to throwing lives away.

Even in victory, the Kingdom’s losses would still be catastrophic.

"Hmph!"

"You dare act, but now you’re scared to hear others talk about it?"

Derris mocked sarcastically.

Having lived for hundreds of years, she had encountered many ruthless tacticians, but Hudson took cruelty to a whole new level.

First burning the enemy’s camps to the ground, then flooding seven prefectures—his ruthless methods were displayed vividly and thoroughly.

"Miss Derris, I suppose you’ve misunderstood. If only you’d take a walk around the city, you wouldn’t say that!"

Hudson pretended to act aggrieved as he spoke.

Since the plan had gotten out of hand, he decided not to take credit for the flood’s impact.

Given that the dam had been constructed by the orcs, they’d naturally shoulder the blame.

With some species suffering heavy losses and others escaping relatively unscathed, Hudson refused to believe the devastated species wouldn’t harbor lingering grievances.

Their vital forces crippled and internal conflicts intensified, this invasion by the orcs was effectively over.

As it turned out, shifting blame was an incredibly effective strategy; after flying around the city walls, a group of elves returned with increasingly complex expressions.

The defenders had made some preparations, but their efforts to tackle the flooding were clearly inadequate.

"Killing 1,000 enemies at the cost of 80 allies"—this was plainly inconsistent with Hudson’s usual methods. Reviewing past cases, one would always see him trying to minimize losses whenever possible.

Now convinced they knew the truth, Derris didn’t even know how to vent her outrage. After glaring fiercely at Hudson, she grumbled, "Let’s go!"

She valued her dignity, and this situation had become way too awkward.

If the disaster truly originated from the orcs’ own doing, causing such a tragedy, then the follow-up issues were no concern of the Elf Race.

As the pillars of the Anti-Human Alliance, their only duty was to ensure that the Human Race’s Sanctuaries didn’t enter the fray. This visit was merely a routine investigation.

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