The night wind was bleak, and the blood moon hung high in the sky.
In the riverfront outpost of the Brown Demon Tribe Alliance, a half-orc soldier on guard duty on the city wall casually rested his long-handled axe in the gap between the crenellations, carelessly lifting the face guard on his helmet and yawning lazily.
Under the flickering light of a nearby torch, his rough, ferocious face looked utterly exhausted and listless.
At this time, the surroundings were utterly silent, with only the murmuring flow of the Wind Sigh River not far away.
The hypnotic sound of the water flow clearly made the half-orc soldier even sleepier, and he couldn't help but yawn again.
Just then, a strong figure silently appeared behind him.
Thud!
Before the half-orc soldier could react, a heavy fist sent him flying out.
Under the blood moon, the figure gradually became clear.
It turned out to be a Tier 3 half-orc commander.
