Lord: I Grind EXP with Warband Panel

After giving the order, Robson hurried to the walls with his personal guards.

"The lord! The lord is here!"

"It’s the Lord!"

The soldiers of the Third Regiment were all new recruits. Although they held the rank of Tier Two Militia, they had just been transferred up from the rear. How could they have ever experienced a battle of this scale?

Tens of thousands of enemies surged forward in a seemingly endless tide.

The Kobolds even had a good number of archers among them. While most of their arrows couldn’t reach the top of the walls and lacked any real killing power, they were still incredibly intimidating.

The soldiers of the Second Regiment had yet to arrive, while the First Regiment was still engaged on the walls.

Robson observed the surrounding battle and the feedback on his panel, nodding in satisfaction.

The entire panel was flooded with green text.

Evidently, Lord Robson’s efforts were already paying off.

Kobolds carrying scaling ladders surged up in endless waves. The militia of the Third Regiment held the line with spears and wooden shields, backed by archers.

However, this familiar formation failed to achieve its usual effect—that of a single man holding a pass against ten thousand foes.

If this had been the First Regiment, not a single Kobold would have made it onto the walls. Still, this was good enough.

According to Robson’s defensive rotation, the Second, Third, and Fourth Regiments took turns on guard duty. The regiment that stood the night watch would be given the entire next day to rest fully.

Thanks to Robson’s efforts over the past several days, the walls of Qimo Fortress had been reinforced multiple times. Even the soldiers of the Fourth Regiment were each equipped with an iron weapon.

The same went for the Second and Third Regiments. After so many days of hearty meals, while they couldn’t be called burly, every one of them was now full of vigor. They no longer had the pale, malnourished look of their past.

Of course, they would most likely be crushed if they faced an elite unit. The saving grace was the Beastmen’s reliance on endless, overwhelming numbers.

Sometimes Robson felt it himself. ’If I were a noble in one of the Southern Countries, I probably wouldn’t have been able to accomplish much, even with the panel.’

While Kobolds were stronger than goblins, it wasn’t by a significant margin. They were still on par with Peasants.

Even the Third Regiment, after days of drilling, had mostly reached the standard of Second Order Frankish Militia.

Furthermore, for some unknown reason, these Kobolds all seemed rather listless, despite being on the battlefield.

Faced with enemies who were practically just here to feed him experience points, Robson was naturally beaming. ’Enemies? The more the merrier.’

...

Of course, an army of Kobolds this large couldn’t be entirely composed of worthless grunts.

On this continent, for a race to survive, it must have its reasons.

Chief Jones was among the first wave of Kobolds to scale the wall, only to be unceremoniously shoved back down by the defenders.

Fortunately, his second attempt went off without a hitch.

Facing the humans trying to poke a few transparent holes in him with their spears, Chief Jones unleashed his aura, revealing his power as a Bronze Third Tier warrior.

"AWOOO!"

Chief Jones’s canine eyes bulged, revealing his unique bloodline. He was a Kobold who had successfully undergone atavistic regression.

There has long been a theory on the continent regarding the Gnolls, Kobolds, and Lebbums Wolfmen... It is speculated that they all descend from a Wolf God named Elus. In the legends of many canine races, he is revered as an ancient deity.

Of course, this was widely considered nothing more than a fanciful tale. No race truly believed it. The prevailing wisdom was that only powerful races could give birth to gods—that a race sustains its god, not the other way around.

Scholars from all fields agree that this legend likely originates from the first words these dog- and wolf-like races learn to speak after birth: "Elus Youtan Daier." In the ancient Elven language, this phrase can be translated as "The might of Elus endures."

Of course, this has been dismissed as a mere coincidence. The Elf Race, at least, refuses to acknowledge any such connection.

But that didn’t diminish the powerful state Chief Jones could enter after his regression. With an explosive surge of muscle, Chief Jones caught an oncoming spear, wrenched it from his attacker’s grasp, and hurled it down from the wall.

Fortunately, the soldiers of the Third Regiment were well-organized. The archers behind them quickly loosed a volley, but unfortunately, Chief Jones weathered the storm of arrows.

"He’s not an ordinary enemy! Let him through!"

"Go get the captain! Tell him to bring the Armored Warriors!"

Chief Jones couldn’t understand what the humans were saying, but he saw that they were actually clearing a path for him.

Jones was confused, but he attributed it to the human soldiers’ fear of him.

Just as Chief Jones was about to lead his clansmen in a renewed charge, the rhythmic clang of metal reached his ears.

’What is that?’ Chief Jones tightened his grip on his weapon and looked. It was the human Armored Warriors. In the moonlight, their iron armor glinted with a silver sheen.

"You’re courting death!"

Watching them charge toward him, Jones roared.

"A bunch of turtle shells! You think that’s enough to defeat me? Pathetic!"

Chief Jones raised his weapon and charged forward, intending to end the fight in a few swift moves. But he quickly realized something was wrong.

These soldiers fought in five-man squads. With two of them holding shields, Chief Jones found himself unable to break their formation. From behind the shields, long spears constantly jabbed at him.

Chief Jones tried to repeat his earlier feat of snatching a weapon, but he discovered these new foes were on a completely different level from the previous soldiers.

It wasn’t that Chief Jones lacked the strength; the key was their masterful technique. They extended and retracted their spears with such skill that he couldn’t get near them.

The scene looked less like a battle and more like a few soldiers teasing a dog with a cat toy...

"Ah! What was that?!"

Just as Chief Jones was about to switch targets, a sharp pain flared in his back. He looked behind him and saw the fifth member of the squad—an Archer.

And in his hands was not a bow, but a Magic Crossbow!

"Argh!"

As Chief Jones reeled in thought, the two spearmen behind him seized the opportunity. Taking advantage of his distraction, they landed a vicious blow, stabbing directly at his kidneys.

Chief Jones was only at the Bronze tier. His aura could, at best, fend off ordinary blades. A spear with such piercing power and sharpness could inflict considerable damage upon him.

’I can’t let this continue!’ Chief Jones felt the searing pain from his side, and a cold sweat broke out on his brow.

Just as he decided to flee, he discovered that his escape route had, at some point, been blocked by another squad of human soldiers.

"Get out of my way!"

Chief Jones roared, trying to break through the Heavy Infantry, but two more bolts put him in his place.

"Argh!"

Chief Jones pulled out a Potion. As an Extraordinary being, he would normally never touch this stuff. As good as it was, it was the kind of thing that burned away one’s life force. But his current situation left him no room to be picky.

"You’ll pay for this!"

Just as Chief Jones raised the Potion to his lips, preparing to down it in one gulp, four spears seized the opening. In an instant, four more transparent holes appeared on his body.

"Ugh..."

Chief Jones collapsed in disbelief. He couldn’t imagine that he, an Extraordinary, would be killed just like that.

Staring at the moon in the sky, Chief Jones felt something pulling at him...

"Hey! You guys from Squad Five! Stealing our kill again?"

"What do you mean, ’yours’ or ’ours?’ It’s all—"