Chapter 810: Marching to Their Doom
This guy's intelligence far surpasses half the Blazeforge Orcs. He knows how to bide his time and build up strength, and he's a powerful Blazeforge Orc Warlock—already at the peak of Eighth-Rank Title Archmage, with one foot stepping into the Ninth Rank!
Ninth-Rank Title Archmage—what does that even mean? It's the threshold to Sky Rank, and the gap between Eighth and Ninth Rank is, frankly, the biggest leap in the whole Title Archmage stage.
Hobart has already set foot in the Ninth Rank. On this battlefield, he's absolutely the strongest.
If Hobart didn't know how to keep a low profile—if he hadn't tried to avoid drawing out the strongest from the Three Great Factions and just slowly pressured them—the war would've ended a long time ago.
Now, the Watson Family and the Black Tower actually want the Merlin Family to assassinate this guy. How is that not just sending us to our deaths?
Thorne Merlin's eyes went wide, and he roared, "Glynn Watson, you're seriously pushing it! Assassinate Hobart? That's impossible! That's not an assassination, that's a death sentence! Damn it, you bastards just want to throw Merlin Family lives away again, don't you? You want me dead, is that it?"
Glynn Watson kept his face cold, showing not a hint of anger. He just replied blandly.
"This isn't a negotiation. It's an order. Of course, as the commander of the Merlin Family, you can refuse. But then our alliance ends here—the Watson Family and Black Tower will pull out of this war, and you Merlin folks can claim victory all by yourselves."
Thorne Merlin's face changed, his breath growing heavy. That one sentence had him by the family's throat.
The Merlin Family's power in the Blazeforge Plane is now miles behind the Watson Family and the Black Tower. In terms of numbers and strength, they're nowhere close. To make matters worse, the family can barely spare anyone to help in the Blazeforge Plane these days.
It's not like the Merlin Family is only fighting in the Blazeforge Plane—every plane is stretched thin for manpower. They already sent reinforcements here once, but now, there's just no way to help.
But now, because of the war over the Horn of Plenty, the Merlin Family is stuck in the quagmire. Of the Three Great Factions, they're the only ones who can't pull out. The losses are already devastating—if they lose the Horn of Plenty, they're done for. Not even retreat is an option.
If they retreat and let the Blazeforge Orcs have their revenge, the Merlin Family's fortress will be the first to fall. The Blazeforge Plane's power will be wiped out, and years of effort and conquest will go up in smoke. That kind of loss? The family can't survive it.
Thorne Merlin's face kept shifting. There was zero sign of unity among the Three Great Factions—just suspicion and sabotage. Even knowing full well the Watson Family and Black Tower are sending Merlin people to die, he has no choice but to accept.
Glynn Watson sneered at Thorne Merlin's ever-changing expression, his face twisted with even more contempt.
"Lord Thorne, this is the critical moment. If your Merlin Family backs out, fine—Watson Family and Black Tower will just find a stronger partner. I'm sure our new ally will do a much better job."
Glynn Watson was now openly threatening him.
Thorne Merlin clenched his fists, his teeth grinding audibly. Face twisted in fury, he sucked in several rough breaths before forcing out a few words through gritted teeth.
"Fine. I accept, Lord Glynn. No need to see us off."
Glynn Watson snorted, casually tossed out Hobart's location, and turned to leave.
Thorne Merlin stood there, stifled and furious. Only after Glynn Watson left did he swing his greatsword in frustration, carving a seven or eight-meter gouge into the ground.
Damn Watson Family. Damn Black Tower. Two greedy, cunning vampires!
Thorne Merlin was choking on his resentment, but he had no choice but to accept. The Merlin Family had no way out—if the Watson Family and Black Tower decided to confront them head-on, or even just pulled back a little, it would be a devastating blow. They know it's a suicide mission, but they still have to go!
Because if they don't, the Merlin Family's power in the Blazeforge Plane could be wiped out for good!
Thorne Merlin gathered a few Merlin Family stewards and explained the situation. Instantly, someone started roaring in anger.
"Those damn bastards, sending us to die again!"
"No way, this time we can't back down!"
Thorne Merlin gritted his teeth and laid out the consequences. Everyone fell silent, faces twisted in anger, but no one could refute him.
Losing a plane's interests isn't just about losing resources—it means the Merlin Family shrinks as a whole, their growth slows dramatically. And if the other families catch wind of it, you can bet they'll jump at the chance to crush the Merlins.
Meanwhile, the Watson Family and Black Tower could use this chance to rapidly grow stronger.
Plenty of people have grudges against the Merlin Family—the most direct being the Watsons. The Watson Family would never pass up a chance to crush the Merlins when they're down.
It took the Merlin Family centuries to crawl out of disaster. If they fall back in now, they're truly in danger.
Thorne Merlin wore a bitter look. As commander, he had to see the bigger picture—a small sacrifice could buy the family more time, maybe a chance to turn things around. So even knowing this mission is suicide, he can't refuse.
"Enough. I'll lead the team myself. You pick the people—come with me."
[Irrelevant passage skipped.]
Thorne Merlin's decision instantly shut everyone up, but when it came time to pick the team, new arguments broke out.
"Lord Thorne, the fifty people the family sent earlier—they're all newly advanced magi, but they're pretty capable. If we bring them, our chances go up a bit."
One of the stewards said this.
Thorne Merlin's expression shifted—he instantly knew who they meant.
"No. Those fifty magi belong to Commander Leon Merlin—I can't just move them as I please. Their job is to hold the fort we've got under Merlin control."
Thorne Merlin paused, a trace of helplessness flickering across his face before he continued.
"Besides, this mission is insanely dangerous—Hobart's the chieftain of the Fireblade Tribe, ridiculously strong. If we're going to succeed, we'll pay a heavy price. We need to keep a fallback—if we fail and lose big, if we have to pull out of the Horn of Plenty war, those people can still hold the fortress. As long as they're there, it's just lost interests, not total ruin. If they die too, the fortress is doomed..."
At that, Thorne Merlin fell silent. Everyone got the hint and shut up—throwing everything into one gamble meant that if they failed, the Merlin Family would lose even those fortresses, and that would be true disaster.
On the battlefield, the fighting raged on—seemingly endless.
Thorne Merlin pulled away a large number of Merlin elites, leaving the front lines to the Watson Family and Black Tower. Fire and frost clashed in midair, and meteors trailing thick smoke crashed down everywhere.
Human warriors and Blazeforge Orcs collided again and again, the sounds of slaughter never stopping, and the screams of the dying were almost constant.
Thorne Merlin led several hundred Merlin elites, circling wide around the battlefield, heading for the spot described in the Watson Family's intel.
It was a corner of the Horn of Plenty, not far from the Blazeforge Orcs' rear base. Except for a single mountain, it was almost all plain—the mission site was right at the mountain, easy to find.
Thorne Merlin and his team moved through grass taller than a man, trying not to get spotted by Blazeforge Orc scouts.
They moved slowly, but managed to avoid every Blazeforge Orc patrol along the way. Everything seemed to be going smoothly.
Three hours later, the mountain was only four or five kilometers away—they could even see the summit, something glowing up there, visible even in daylight.
When they reached the base of the mountain, Thorne Merlin was shocked. From here, he could see a massive alchemical magic array set up on the slopes—not even activated, but already radiating intense magical energy.
A teleportation array!
Thorne Merlin's shock deepened as he spotted Hobart on the mountain. The Fireblade Tribe's chieftain was actually setting up a teleportation array—and such a huge one at that!
My god, with a teleportation array this size, they could send over entire armies—hundreds, maybe thousands at a time!
Thorne Merlin's face turned pale, cold sweat dripping down his forehead. At this point, the whole 'sent to die' thing was the least of his worries.
If they didn't destroy this teleportation array, it was clear what would happen—the Fireblade Tribe's strength would explode, and they'd crush the Three Great Factions in no time. The Merlin Family would be the first to get wiped out.
Only a dozen Blazeforge Orcs were busy on the mountain—no sign of any others. Thorne Merlin didn't hesitate. He led his team charging forward.
But halfway up the mountain, something unexpected happened.
Suddenly, hordes of Blazeforge Orcs burst out from both sides of the mountain—and from behind, too. Groups of orcs stood ready, and Hobart watched from the summit, sneering down at them.