Lord: I Grind EXP with Warband Panel

"Keep up! Charge them before they have a chance to react!" Elimon shouted, leading the charge from the very front.

The Beastman Empire’s tactics were just this simple and unadorned: everyone followed the boss, and if the boss went down, the second-in-command stepped up.

This was rooted in their backward, tribal, slave-based society. On the battlefield, a Beastman army was primarily composed of individual tribes where most members were related. Aside from their own Chieftain, it was rare for anyone to command their genuine respect.

Of course, another major factor was that no one on the great plains ever had enough to eat. Lacking the large-scale social structures of humans, their military development naturally fell far behind.

The Beastman Empire certainly had races capable of forming professional armies, but the cost was too great. Besides, the Beastmen had always relied on sheer numbers to win their campaigns to the south, so there was little demand for high-quality troops.

With no demand, there was no incentive for change. This traditional, tribe-based military system had accompanied the Beastman Empire throughout its history.

To show off his martial prowess and ignite the bloodlust of his companions, Elimon grabbed a siege ladder, preparing to be the first to set foot on the wall.

Though Daimon had screwed him over royally, there was no denying that some of what he said was true.

If the Gnolls wanted to make something of themselves, they had to fully leverage their two greatest advantages: night vision and the element of surprise.

Just as Elimon was about to position the ladder and use his Extraordinary physique to scale the wall, he saw countless bows suddenly appear on the ramparts nearby.

???

’This is bad!’ Elimon cried inwardly. ’This is no surprise attack! We’ve run smack into them!’

As for why he hadn’t seen these Archers before...

It was the dead of night, after all. Even with the Gnolls’ racial gifts, visibility was barely ten meters...

At this thought, Elimon gazed up at the wall with a growing sense of dread.

Daimon had told him this group of enemies was among the most useless dregs of humanity. Once night fell, the Gnolls could use their racial gifts to utterly dominate them.

’They don’t seem like dregs now, do they? What kind of useless Soldiers can react so quickly to a night raid?’

"Fire!"

Just as Elimon was praying to the Beast God, an unfamiliar human voice rang in his ears.

It was followed by a series of WHOOSHING sounds as several Gnolls behind him fell. An arrow even struck him in the chest.

’This is a disaster!’

The shock jolted Elimon to his senses. As the reality of the situation sank in, he was overcome with a tearless despair, and his hatred for Daimon peaked.

’Daimon has doomed me!’

’Their night vision isn’t bad at all! How could people with poor night vision shoot in the dark with this kind of accuracy? It’s impossible!’

Of course, Daimon didn’t know that Robson had assigned all his Archers of Tier Three and above to the first regiment, sending only Infantry to the others.

Not to mention, Robson’s consistent emphasis on nutritious meals had fundamentally solved the issue of night blindness for most of his Soldiers.

These Tier Four and Tier Five veterans were so experienced they could judge where the enemy was most concentrated by instinct alone, inflicting casualties on the Gnolls simply by feel.

Had Elimon been raiding any other human fortress tonight, he wouldn’t have been in such a passive position.

This was the Western Front, a gathering place for southern nobles. No lord would concentrate their elite troops so heavily.

It wasn’t that they didn’t want to; they simply lacked the capability. The southern nobles didn’t fight as frequently as their northern counterparts. Their daily conflicts were little more than village brawls, making it difficult to forge a sizable elite force.

While it was possible through training alone, the cost was more than most could bear.

This state of affairs directly led to Daimon misjudging the true strength of Qimo Fortress.

Elimon glanced back; retreating now was clearly impossible.

Forget about how Daimon would hold him accountable later; the entire Jackal Wolfman Legion was already in a frenzy.

They were all basking in the light of the Beast God, unable to pull themselves away. Filled to the brim with bloodlust and courage, none of them would turn and flee with Elimon.

Elimon watched his red-eyed kinsmen helplessly, his heart filled with an indescribable grief and indignation.

’I have no choice but to charge!’ Elimon thought.

He had no path of retreat. Rather than abandon his tribe and flee alone, only to die in some "accident," he might as well risk it all and show these humans what he was truly made of!

At least for now, his Gnolls still had the blessing of the Beast God!

On the battlefield, the Beastmen had always been unstoppable thanks to this trait. Who wouldn’t fear Soldiers that were unafraid of death?

With that, Elimon planted his feet, scaling the wall in a few quick bounds. He planned to carve a path with his own body, to cut a bloody road for the Gnolls behind him.

But he’d been on the wall for less than two minutes. The moment he unleashed his battle aura, he was targeted by the nobles of Qimo Fortress, who had been lying in wait.

They had been waiting with Robson on the wall for half the night, just waiting for his command.

Seeing no immediate danger, Robson decided to use this as a training exercise. He hadn’t allowed the nobles of Qimo Fortress to swarm their opponents all at once.

Only when the enemy’s Extraordinary fighters began to appear did Robson lift the restriction.

This group of noble lords had been getting antsy. For days, Robson had kept a tight leash on them, not allowing any unauthorized actions. They were all holding in their frustration, and now they were about to unleash it all.

This was bad news for Elimon. He was only a Tier Four Silver Jackal Wolfman Warrior. Due to the disparity in equipment and training, a Gnoll of the Silver rank was no match for a human of the same rank, let alone a dozen of them at once.

Seeing a dozen Knights charging him, Elimon was utterly baffled.

’The intel never said Qimo Fortress had a Knight Order!’

Qimo Fortress didn’t have a Knight Order, but it did have several dozen nobles with martial prowess.

Ordinarily, these men would be commanding their own troops, serving as the backbone of the fortress’s defense.

However, half of the fortress’s entire army belonged to Robson, and the other half had little combat strength. Moreover, Robson’s army was a self-contained system.

This directly freed up the nobles, creating Qimo Fortress’s own ad-hoc Extraordinary fighting force.

At this point, Elimon wanted to curse the humans for their complete lack of morals, gentlemanly conduct, and chivalry.

This was the battlefield between the kingdom of Frank and the Beastman Empire. No human was going to bother with so-called chivalry now. As far as they were concerned, Beastmen deserved a righteous beatdown from the whole group!

Faced with a mob of humans eager to "discuss the code of warriors" with him, Elimon had no choice but to dodge and weave along the ramparts, not daring to engage them directly.

By now, he had cursed Daimon a thousand times in his heart. Daimon had made it sound so simple: all he had to do was take the gate.

The reality, however, was that Elimon wasn’t even sure he could keep his footing on this wall.

’Who said these humans were weak?’ Elimon felt a wave of tearless frustration.

Now, his only hope was that the blessing of the Beast God would be enough.