The two armies faced each other in a tense standoff.
Strangely, there was no immediate, all-out battle. After attempting to assault the camp fortress twice, the War Pigs completely ceased their attacks.
While the fortress was built upon a mountain pass, who had ever seen twelve trenches dug in front of a fortress? The rammed earth and stone walls stood six meters tall.
Every arrow slit was packed with archers, working in groups of three—even if one paused, the arrows never stopped.
Every twenty meters, a bed crossbow was mounted. A single bolt could shatter both man and shield. Combined with the narrowness of the pass, a single bolt could skewer several people in a row, like candied hawthorn berries on a stick.
The War Pig commander, Barisi, was furious.
“Are the humans all turtles? These despicable cowards have no courage to face us in open battle! They’re a bunch of weaklings!”
“Build catapults for me!”
“Send the vassal tribes to fill the trenches!”
“The first orc to scale that wall, I’ll name him the War Pig First Warrior!”
The commanders of the surrounding vassal orc tribes’ expressions grew increasingly grim.
Though they had submitted after defeat, the War Pigs were driving them like cattle, clearly not treating them as equals.
As the standoff dragged on, more problems surfaced.
First was the casualty ratio.
The humans had the Church’s healing.
What did the orcs have? Nothing. Shaman priests couldn’t possibly care for ordinary soldiers.
Even worse was the food supply.
The reserves the War Pigs had accumulated through mutual trade were being rapidly depleted. The daily consumption of food and fodder for men and mounts was decreasing at an alarming rate.
Initially, the food supplies of the vassal tribes were cut off first, prioritized for the War Pig tribe itself.
Soon, even within the War Pig tribe, supplies began to tighten.
Frontline Camp, Central Command Tent.
Aililan looked at the flurry of incoming reports and couldn’t help but sneer. “Did you really think trading with you War Pigs meant an unlimited supply of food?”
“The Ministry of Finance calculated exactly how much grain to sell.”
“In less than a month, you’ll be gnawing on roots.”
She let out a light hum.
Then, she summoned an officer.
“What have the War Pigs been up to lately?”
“Reporting, Saintess. The War Pigs bypassed the fortress and burned a few villages. However, the personnel and supplies had already been evacuated. They gained no spoils.”
“And the elves?”
“The elves seem to have organized a force, attempting to join the war, but the Ministry of Foreign Affairs refused them. However, they are unlikely to give up.”
“The Demon Lands?”
“No major movements for now. However, some low-level demons and lesser demons have made probing attacks on the border.”
Aililan fell silent for a moment.
The elves’ intentions were easy to understand.
As for the demons, they were probably dissatisfied with the trade disruption caused by the war, sending some low-level demons to “remind” her.
“I will compensate for the trade losses.”
She pondered for a moment, then summoned her personal maid.
“Yarandale, I have a task for you. Go contact that succubus.”
“On top of the original trade quota, increase it by ten percent.”
“My bottom line is that this agreement can last at most three years.”
“As for the exact terms, you handle it.”
Yarandale accepted the order and left.
Next was the issue with the elves.
Aililan did not intend to completely stop them. On the contrary, she hoped the elves could participate in the war “to a limited extent” and gain some visible benefits.
Only then, in the future full-scale war against the orcs, could their greater desires and greed be ignited.
Aililan picked up her pen and wrote:
“Blaise, Head of Foreign Affairs, proceed to Elf King City immediately.”
“On the surface, maintain the stance of preventing elven participation in the war.”
“The elves are not stupid. They will see the situation is favorable to us.”
“If they insist on deploying troops, do not obstruct them excessively.”
“This matter was part of the plan from the beginning.”
Throughout the entire frontline camp.
Aside from the officers’ quarters, the busiest place was almost certainly Aililan’s tent.
Every day, a steady stream of messengers came and went, with orders constantly issued from her.
Her presence itself was akin to the emperor leading the campaign personally.
As for why she wasn’t holding court in Atester?
Because this battle was crucial—it was her battle to establish authority.
She had to be at the front lines.
This way, when people evaluated her in the future, they wouldn’t say she was merely a Saintess skilled in internal affairs, but a commander who led from the front to victory.
At the same time.
Aililan was also closely monitoring the various orc tribes.
This great war had revealed many races with immense potential to her.
The betrayal of the War Pigs made her realize—relying on a single, favored tribe was not a long-term strategy.
There needed to be checks and balances within the orc ranks as well.
“The Winged People.”
“The Centaurs.”
She heavily circled these two names on the map.
The most impressive performance came from the Centaurs.
They were natural cavalry.
Aililan’s eyes gleamed. ‘The Jackal Tribe is so poor, they can’t even outfit a hundred Centaurs with a full set of armor. Yet, this force of less than two hundred managed to crush a War Pig unit of a thousand.’
The War Pigs themselves were a strong tribe renowned for their combat prowess.
If the Centaurs could be brought under her control…
As for the Winged People.
They resembled humans but possessed wings and excelled at aerial combat.
Aililan pondered for a moment. ‘We can send someone to make contact.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m getting ahead of myself.’
After all, some empires in the northern part of the Church already had organized griffin air cavalry.
Even if she couldn’t fully subjugate the Winged People, fostering them as a second power, similar to the Jackals or War Pigs, to create a balance of power was also feasible.
As for how to foster them?
It was actually quite simple.
Provide the Centaurs with armor—on the plains, they would naturally rise rapidly.
And the Winged People…
Aililan spread out the map of the War Pig territory, dividing it into four regions.
“One piece for the Jackals.”
“One piece for the elves.”
“One piece for me.”
“And one piece—if the Winged People are obedient, it goes to them.”
Even before the decisive battle had erupted, she had already begun dividing the post-war spoils.
Call her arrogant?
What is war fought with?
Logistics. Economy.
The War Pigs’ food and fodder were about to run out.
And on Aililan’s side—
In the city granaries, last year’s old grain hadn’t even been fully consumed yet.
Every day, over a hundred sets of iron armor, hundreds of sets of leather armor, and tens of thousands of arrows were transported to the front lines.
The soldiers had also seen blood, having at least gained trial experience in training grounds or slaughterhouses.
With such conditions for war—
She honestly didn’t know how they could possibly lose.