Chapter 251 – Second Orc Siege.

“Are they coming yet?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“How can you be sure? What if they are hiding behind that boulder over there?”

“They are not hiding behind that boulder.”

“How would you know? Did you check?”

“... Just shut up already.”

“...”

“Are they there?”

“I’m going to cut your throat, you bastard!”

A man wearing mercenary armor lunged at another, and they started shoving each other. The others smiled and chuckled, but soon looked away as their sub-leader pulled them apart.

“You’re lucky Second is here. Otherwise, I’d tear you apart!”

“Lucky? I’ll get you when you sleep, you stinking bastard!”

“... Stop it, you two. Go over to that part of the wall and wait.”

Rusty separated the men. For him, waiting on top of the city walls for over a day was nothing, but for these newer mercenaries, the boredom was unbearable. They would rather be drinking at a pub or fighting monsters, yet instead they were forced to stand guard and wait for the orcs to approach, who for some reason, were not showing up.

Rusty watched the two men stomp off in opposite directions, still muttering threats under their breath. Below the wall, the land stretched out in uneasy silence. The fields had long since been abandoned, trampled into uneven patches of dirt and broken crops. A few distant crows circled lazily, the only movement in an otherwise peaceful landscape.

‘Humanoids sure are fidgety. Why do they always need to move so much?’

This was his third day as a mercenary, and he was starting to get the hang of it. For now, he pretended to be the silent type who did not mingle with the others, but it wasn’t as easy as he had thought.

As always, a strange phenomenon took place. The humanoids began forming smaller factions among themselves. A few mercenaries gathered around their new leader, praising her and offering compliments. Some even tried to offer her food or drink, and she wasn’t one to reject gifts.

To Rusty, a monster encased in a suit of armor, this behavior was strange. He knew they did not truly like her. They respected her strength and position. It was obvious they wanted something in return.

Usually, it was status, money, or some other advantage. To him, this kind of behavior felt unnatural. He preferred gaining things through his own power without relying on others. Still, he understood that in a world this large, survival often meant earning the favor of someone powerful. Without it, a person’s life could quickly fall apart.

From what he could see, three groups were forming. One gathered around their new leader, loud and eager, laughing at her crude jokes while trying to stay within her line of sight. They mimicked her mannerisms, stood a little straighter when she glanced their way, and were always the first to volunteer when she barked an order.

It consisted of half the D-rankers in the group, those he had either defeated during the trial or who had been eliminated earlier. Then there was the second group, formed around the man who had lost to Galiena in the semifinals. He seemed to harbor a strong dislike for her and had allied himself with the other D-rankers who had also lost to her. The division among the people felt almost perfect, right down the middle, and that man could now be considered the third in command.

The third group was made up of E-rankers who, for some reason, saw him as their best supporter. They viewed the “Second” persona he had adopted as an honorable and just commander. On several occasions, he had noticed other D-rankers talking down to the E-rankers and had intervened. He was not truly trying to help them, only fulfilling his role and maintaining morale among these humanoids. Still, they interpreted his actions as something admirable.

“Sir Second, would you like some water or perhaps some wine?”

“No.”

“What about a shoulder rub, or maybe some meat?”

“No. Just return to your post and leave me alone.”

The young mercenary hesitated, clearly unsure whether to persist or withdraw. In the end, he nodded quickly and hurried back to the others like him. They gathered and spoke among themselves, occasionally glancing in his direction as if trying to determine how best to prove their worth to him.

For now, he chose to keep everyone at a distance. He had no idea how long he would need to maintain the guise of a mercenary. His true objective was to eliminate the corrupt noble who controlled the previous mercenary force. Once that was done, he could abandon this charade. The longer he remained visible, the greater the risk that his true identity would be exposed.

The monotony of the job did not bother him, but there were drawbacks. One of them was that he could not access his summoning chamber, even though the time restriction had already passed. Attempting it here, under so many watchful eyes, could be fatal. Fortunately, action was close at hand. At last, he spotted a man climbing a hill, waving a flag. The orcs were coming.

“Orcs!”

One of the lookouts shouted, and the single word spread rapidly.

“The orcs are coming!”

More lookouts echoed the warning, waving their flags to signal the approaching threat. The idle atmosphere vanished at once as the mercenaries straightened and gripped their weapons. Behind them, the guards lowered their pikes, ready to strike down anyone who might attempt to flee.

‘Finally. What took them so long?’

Rusty stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the distant hill. From his position, he had a clear view of the approaching horde, and soon he saw movement. Dark shapes began to crest the horizon one after another. A low rumble followed as the orcs’ battle horn sounded, accompanied by the pounding of drums and the roar of voices, far more intense than in the previous attack.

“Now this is a proper enemy…”

While the other mercenaries shouted and trembled, he felt only excitement at the chance to test his steel against an old foe. In the past, he had faced little more than the group’s grunts, battling E-rankers and, once, a stronger opponent in the forest. What stood before him now far exceeded anything he had expected. Hundreds of enemies gathered below, led by a true commander.

The line of orcs spilled over the hill like a dark tide, their crude armor glinting under the pale light. Some carried chipped blades, others heavy clubs, and a few larger figures dragged ladders made from bound logs.

‘Similar tactics to ours, but they are not even using a distraction.’

He had taken part in a siege himself. Back then, he had used his size and shield to protect his elven companions from a rain of arrows as they pushed forward with ladders to scale the walls. They had also deployed light living armor to occupy the human defenders while they climbed. These orcs showed no sign of such coordination. Still, they pressed on, as if convinced that sheer numbers would eventually create an opening.

“There are so many…”

“Yeah, more than before. This won’t be easy.”

Two soldiers gave voice to what he had already suspected. The number of orc invaders had grown. Perhaps they had grown tired of defeat and held back their forces until now.

“Stop gawking and get your bows ready!”

A knight stationed with them shouted the order. He was not the lieutenant, but one of his subordinates. While the southern gate was well defended, most of the knights and stronger fighters had been assigned to the eastern gate, closer to the noble district.

Those assigned to ranged positions moved first, their hands only slightly unsteady as they nocked arrows. Others tightened their grips on shields and weapons, shifting into the formations Rusty had drilled into them. It was not perfect, far from it, but it was no longer the disorganized mess it had been before.

‘Oh, they remembered? Maybe they are not as useless as I thought. But that will depend on what they do if the orcs break through, will they hold the line or flee?”

The wall beneath him was sturdier than the one near the slums, and for good reason. The structure of the attacking force was different as well. Instead of charging blindly, the orcs took their time, forming up without stepping into the open field where arrows could reach them.

Most wore little armor, but some carried shields or pieced together protection. At their center stood the one who caught Rusty’s attention. He was a head taller than the others, with massive tusks that curved outward like spears.

His armor was not the crude scrap worn by the rest. It was layered and reinforced, marked with deep gouges that spoke of battles that the monster survived. A heavy axe rested across his shoulder as though it weighed nothing.

“That one must be the leader.”

His observation was cut short by Galiena, their current mercenary leader. Her grin had vanished. It was clear that this orc was not someone even she could take on alone.

“He looks strong. A C-rank. You’ll have to help me with that one, Second. Can you do it?”

It was the first time he had seen her show any real strategy. Normally, brutes like her preferred to charge straight into the enemy and cut down anything in their path. Now she was proving she knew better. She could not defeat a C-rank monster alone and would need several high-level D-rankers to stand a chance. They had no knights strong enough to face it directly stationed here, so it would be up to them to do it.

“Don’t worry, boss. I’ve heard those orc leaders won’t move unless the gates are opened. We should be fine if we hold the line and keep them in check.”

He answered calmly. Galiena exhaled slowly, her grip tightening around her weapon.

“You better be right about that.”

“I am. We just need to keep them from getting over the wall. Even if they do, opening the gate won’t be easy.”

Rusty pointed toward the heavy gate. It was sealed, and the only way to open it was with a winch in the guard tower behind the wall, operated only with a knight’s authorization.

“So if they want it open, they have to get through us first?”

Galiena looked at him, searching for confirmation. Moments like this made him wonder who truly led the mercenary group, as she relied on his judgment more than she liked to admit.

“Exactly.”

A horn echoed across the fields again, deeper and closer this time. The orc lines had finished forming. What had been scattered movement tightened into a rough but unmistakable battle line. Shields rose, and the clubs were lowered. The massive figures turned toward the wall and started to move. It was time.

“Well, boss, I should get back to my position. Good luck.”

“You’re full of surprises, Second. I can’t even fire a bow.”

Galiena laughed as she stepped aside, axes already in hand, ready to cut down anyone who made it over the wall. The moment had come. Rusty moved to the battlements, using them as cover. The design was clever, allowing him to shift sideways or duck if a projectile came his way.

“Archers, hold.”

The knight’s voice rang out as he ordered everyone to ready their bows. Rusty carried his own, an enchanted weapon of far better quality than most. While the mercenaries were decently equipped, many others still relied on worn gear that looked ready to fall apart.

“Hold until they are fully in range. Do not waste the arrows.”

Rusty grabbed one of the arrows from the crate. It was rough, made of iron or steel. Among them were some young adventurers tasked with passing arrows to the archers. They were not much older than Rolo, which made Rusty wonder if the boy would one day end up doing the same and risking his life.

The orcs were a constant problem, one that the baron did not seem eager to solve. A larger force could be sent into the forest to wipe them out, but that would cost the noble directly. It was far easier to rely on adventurers and mercenaries. There was even profit to be made from the corpses, which could be turned into materials for equipment or brewed into elixirs.

Before he could worry about the baron, he had to get through this siege. Some of the adventurers and mercenaries trembled with fear, while others looked bored, as if they had done this countless times. Rusty, on the other hand, felt a surge of excitement as he waited for the signal to fire.

“Hold until they are fully in range.”

The knight’s voice carried along the wall. Below, the orcs began their advance. Step by step, their formation tightened as they closed the distance. The sound of footsteps and weapons grew heavier, but Rusty stayed focused, his arrow already drawn.

‘That one looks strong.’

His gaze settled on one of the larger orcs charging forward, one that looked like a D-rank. The stronger ones moved among the weaker masses, and those would be his main targets. As soon as they were close enough, he activated his skill and loosed his arrow before the knight gave the order.

It soared high, tracing a clean arc toward the target. Archery was not his strongest skill, but he was still proficient. Empowered by his Power Shot, the arrow struck true before the orcs had time to raise their shields.

‘Got him.’

“I did not give the order yet! Damn mercenaries!”

The knight shouted, but Rusty’s new boss cut in from the side.

“So what? He got that orc, did he not? Good work, Second!”

The knight grumbled but said nothing more. He turned away, then finally gave the command.

“Archers ready… fire!”

A wave of arrows rose into the sky at once, but the orcs did not stop. They raised their crude shields and pressed forward, tightening their formation as the volley struck. A few fell, collapsing into the dirt, but the rest stepped over them and pushed on without hesitation.

‘This is going to be fun.’

Rusty watched the impact with mild curiosity and was already shooting his third arrow. While the other mercenaries fired without clear targets, he focused on the ones that would yield the most experience. It felt like an endless feast of targets. The battle had only just begun, yet his experience bar was already climbing fast. Perhaps once this day was over, he would have reached his level limit for this rank.