Chapter 1388: Chapter 278: Applying Pressure
The light of dusk poured over the great grasslands, blending with the remains of shattered at and corpses on the battlefield, forming a unique twilight scene.
As the victor, Glaem stood with an enraged expression, glaring at his troops. Despite holding an overwhelming advantage, the battle had nearly swung in the enemy’s favor earlier.
If not for the critical mont where he turned the tide by eliminating the enemy’s leader and breaking their morale, it could very well be them lying lifeless on the ground now.
“Laugh!”
“You bunch of idiots, how dare you still laugh.
Did all the training I’ve drilled into your pig brains go to waste?
Why didn’t you form up according to the trained battle formations?
…”
Perhaps feeling that shouting wasn’t enough to vent his frustration, Glaem didn’t hold back his hands and feet while berating the Pigg soldiers.
He slapped one Pigg on the forehead, then kicked another on the rear—a scene truly too harsh for the eyes.
Yet, this was a thod of military training Glaem had developed through trial and error.
When dealing with this peculiar species, reasoning was entirely futile; the most effective approach remained brute force suppression.
There was no problem a good beating couldn’t solve. If one wasn’t enough, then beat them again.
All efforts at gentle persuasion always proved to be pointless; any use of fists and feet, on the other hand, left lasting impressions.
It was as if giving them orders without hitting them ant the matter wasn’t important. Only tasks assigned after a thrashing had to be completed without fail.
This bizarre behavior often left Glaem both laughing and crying. He simply couldn’t fathom how he could be of the sa species as these fools.
During quiet nights, what he missed the most were dreams of the esteed Golden Piggy Clan. Compared to these dimwits, they were the only kin he could truly acknowledge.
Leading a group of pig teammates forward, Glaem bore imnse pressure. If he had a choice, he would have abandoned these fools long ago.
The Golden Piggy Clan was still part of the Pigg Clan—he himself was living proof of that. In theory, any Pigg could evolve into a Golden Pigg by awakening their latent bloodline.
Once the bloodline awakened, both intelligence and talent would evolve imnsely. The ruling elite within the Pigg Clan, whose minds were much sharper, were likely individuals who had awakened their hidden gifted bloodline.
However, the Pigg Clan had passed down countless generations, and their intermingled bloodlines had grown exceedingly complex. Even an awakening didn’t guarantee ascension to a Golden Pigg.
Low as the chances were, Glaem had no choice but to stubbornly nurture his troops. Fortunately, while the Pigg Clan lacked many abilities, they excelled at one: reproduction.
Theoretically, as long as the numbers increased, there would always be a chance for successful bloodline evolution.
Deep in his heart, Glaem had already begun plotting to borrow breeding stock from the Boar People. As a closely related species, intermarriage was a decent strategy for refining their bloodline.
Most importantly, it could neutralize the Pigg’s laziness and instill a greater combat sense in future generations. If the Piggs even had half the Boar People’s warrior instincts, they would no longer be at the very bottom of the Orc Empire.
Not even the beatings could suppress the Piggs’ excitent. In the earlier battle, they had taken down nearly a hundred Elephantn—a record without a doubt.
Among all the Pigg tribes, was there any other daring enough to pull this off?
Most Piggs would tremble in fear at the sight of an Elephantman, let alone pick up a weapon to fight them.
Their poor performance in battle was conveniently overlooked. For the Pigg Clan, not running away upon encountering an enemy already made one a hero. Those brave enough to engage were considered true warriors.
In the eyes of so Piggs, there was even a faint glimr of bloodthirst—a trait that should have been more common among the Boar People.
“Clean up the battlefield! We’re having a feast tonight!”
At the sound of “feast,” the Piggs’ enthusiasm was instantly reignited. The reason they had fought Elephantn so desperately earlier was partly due to Glaem’s training, but the more urgent reason was that their stomachs had been howling with hunger!
Though Piggs weren’t picky eaters, the issue was that the Empire’s army had marched through earlier, sweeping clean anything edible.
Risking the wrath of the Empire by secretly hunting other species was, in truth, a desperate asure.
Faced with the choice of either becoming food themselves or turning others into food, the Piggs chose the latter.
As nightfall set in, silence swept across the grasslands. The wolves, who should have been active, made no sound.
The victorious Piggs had already lit bonfires, set up grills, and began to devour their hard-earned spoils of war.
Among the many fleeing Pigg tribes, this one enjoyed a status of unparalleled privilege.
No one even rembered the last ti they had such an indulgent feast. For many Piggs, such luxury was absent even in the first half of their lives.
Tasting food they once never dared to imagine, under the night sky, the hearts of many Piggs began to transform. Perhaps this was the life they’d always been ant to live.
For the first ti, many Piggs’ eyes glead with “desire,” as though severing ties with their past selves that had been content to simply survive.
…
The killings on the vast grassland never ceased. To survive, the various species engaged in fierce competition.
The slaughter that awaited them on their journey ho was rely the beginning. The wave of tribal annexation among the prairie clans was just the dawn of the coming chaos.
Especially for tribes whose main forces had been annihilated, they would either be absorbed by their kin or vanish entirely from the grasslands.
Sentintality had no place on the plains. Any act of rcy could spell one’s ultimate doom.
Even the Royal Family and ruling elite, who were supposed to “uphold justice” and maintain stability on the grasslands, chose to turn a blind eye, permitting the annexation frenzy to escalate unchecked.
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