At first, it was just rumors from the woodcutters and hunters at the edge of the forest—a few strange footprints, the occasional howl of wolves in the night.
But soon, it turned into a bloody tragedy.
Those who entered the forest never returned.
But at that time, the simple residents of Privet Town still thought it was just ordinary disappearances.
After several fruitless searches, they casually hung a sign at the Adventurer’s Guild: “Looking for missing persons, bounty negotiable.”
After all, Privet Town was an ordinary small town.
The main source of income for the villagers was apple orchards and related industries, so they didn’t have much spare change.
But then, people discovered those footprints at the edge of the town.
And also found the bodies of the missing.
Decapitated, with terrifying marks branded by red-hot irons!
Many of the young girls in the monastery screamed in terror, their fingers trembling so much they couldn’t properly gather the bodies of the victims or recite the prayers.
It was only under the leadership of the two old nuns, Catherine and Mo En, that this unfortunate task was barely completed.
By this point, the people of Privet Town realized too late that they needed to offer more money.
The cruel marks on the bodies came from Orcs.
Xue La knew. She had always known.
Her experience from her previous life told her that Orcs were among the more difficult monsters to deal with.
Although an individual Orc’s strength might not be as great as the “Gate-blocking Manticore” from the Novice Village, the problem was that they had an organized, disciplined tribal system, united under the banner of some chieftain or shaman, dedicated to wanton plunder.
To deal with these green-skinned monsters, what was needed most was to counter with discipline and organization.
And that’s where the problem lay.
The Adventurer’s Guild added a last-minute order, sending word that “Privet Town faces an Orc invasion and urgently needs experienced adventurers,” but it was too late.
Truly experienced adventurer groups couldn’t arrive in time.
Those who could come were mostly cannon fodder.
Soon, the Orcs threw the bodies of those cannon-fodder adventurers back to the townspeople.
Telling them that they were at the end of their rope.
The second time Xue La stood on the monastery’s high tower, all she saw was a forest of dense brown flags.
Those were banners made of hide, with Orc markings drawn with cheap lime.
Cheap flags, yet wildly brutal—Privet Town was surrounded.
There was still a pebble in Xue La’s hand.
‘Take this!’
The blue-haired girl shouted inwardly, and with a flick of her hand, she threw a straight line.
The Klabane Crows still circled above the town.
Because corpses were their favorite food; no wonder they willingly served as the claws of the Orc army.
The only reason these damned bird monsters dared to appear so brazenly was that the Orcs had already invaded the town in force.
For the safety of the townspeople, after several futile attempts by the Adventurer’s Guild, Abbess Catherine made the most difficult yet correct decision.
Move all the townspeople into the monastery.
The Maisolonge Monastery was built on a river island, connected to the outside world only by a single stone bridge.
Not only was its safety guaranteed, but the monastery had its own well water and food reserves, enough to support all the townspeople.
Under an orderly retreat, even the powerful Orcs had to leave behind dozens of corpses just to barely reach the door of Maisolonge.
Then Abbess Catherine demonstrated her prowess—
The ability befitting an Exorcist Nun.
The old woman simply revealed a ruler.
But Xue La could tell what it was—
The data clearly visible on the panel.
[Catherine Class: Exorcist Nun]
[… Skills: Holy Light Blessing, Holy Light Slash…]
A pure white light coiled around the ruler, then transformed into a sword.
Catherine merely swung it lightly, and a crescent-shaped sword aura burst forth, directly collapsing the stone bridge.
The stone bridge could be repaired later…
But matters of life and death could not be ambiguous.
The Mother Superior signaled the monastery to prepare carrier pigeons to call for help—the Maisolonge Monastery had plenty of connections.
If the incompetent adventurers couldn’t rescue them, then they would have to seek help from the Kingdom’s forces.
That was what the Kingdom of Norsenia should have done in the first place—the failed battle had far-reaching consequences, leading the nobles to adopt a mindset of each sweeping the snow from their own doorstep.
Instead, the Adventurer’s Guild began to grow.
But fortunately, the monastery had its own methods.
When it came to summoning reinforcements, Nun Mo En had her greatest support.
The nuns themselves.
It wasn’t uncommon for noble daughters like Xue La Linde to be sent to the monastery.
So when Maisolonge was in trouble, directly calling the nobles to send troops would be enough.
After all, no one wanted their young lady to become a prisoner of the Orcs.
That scene… would be truly unsightly.
Xue La herself had a task—not just cooking well, but also dealing with the crows.
Once released, the carrier pigeons would face attacks from Klabane Crows.
And the monastery didn’t have the habit of raising pigeons; they had only a pitiful two or three.
At least one needed to fly out of the monastery to seek help from the nearest noble territory.
Therefore, Xue La, who had fought Klabane Crows before, became the best choice.
Xue La carefully opened the pigeon coop and released the white bird representing hope…
Hopefully it would work.
Meanwhile, in the Orc camp where the brown flags fluttered, it was a completely different scene.
The Orc Shaman who controlled the crows groveled excessively as he reported the “battle results” to the Orc Chieftain before him.
No tents were needed; a proud warrior should have the sky as his roof and the earth as his bed.
The only thing that proved the chieftain’s dignity was a small palanquin carried by four goblin slaves with iron chains around their necks.
In the palanquin, sitting with legs crossed, was the chieftain himself.
Darker, like bronze skin.
More robust, like the hide of a lion king.
If one only looked at his clothing—an ordinary leather coat, a pair of curved swords at his waist—it was hard to see any difference from other Orcs.
If one only looked at his age—Orc custom was to judge by teeth.
Orcs didn’t have the concept of baby teeth and permanent teeth; their sharp canines were always growing and falling out.
More teeth meant greater age.
And this chieftain was very young.
“Lord Azog…”
The Shaman’s body trembled as he spoke.
“Our army has reaped great harvests… Look, so many human houses are burning, fields are harvested for us… All thanks to your wise command, my lord!”
But clearly, these pale words failed to move Azog.
The lofty chieftain made no move, only spoke.
“But my army has yet to drink human blood, and the Wargs have yet to taste human flesh…”
Azog said each word, his cold blood-red eyes staring at the incompetent subordinate.
“They have retreated to that stone house on the river island—have you taken it?”
“Reporting, my lord, not yet…”
“We tried to forcefully capture the stone bridge, the only route—but those hairless monkeys of humans were too cunning; they actively destroyed the bridge… We also suffered considerable losses…”
The Shaman wanted to continue, but Azog had already jumped down from the palanquin and directly gave the Shaman a kick to the heart.
“Useless trash, incompetent!”
Azog scolded fiercely.
“Without a bridge, does that mean we cannot take that stone house and finish off all the human trash hiding inside?”
“This is…”
The curved sword was placed on the Shaman’s neck, chilling his heart.
“Don’t make excuses, trash—it was you who initially suggested that the people of Privet Town were rude to us, daring to shoot down our personally raised Klabane Crows…”
The chieftain reprimanded.
“I didn’t act on a whim, understand?”
“We are acting under Lord Strahd’s orders.”
“Wantonly plundering and destroying a town is no different from openly declaring war on the human kingdom, you idiot.”
Azog urged.
“The faster we take it, the better. Delay breeds change.”
“But Lord Strahd is also human…”
This time, the blade of the curved sword directly made intimate contact with the Shaman’s neck skin, leaving him with an unforgettable scar.
“Don’t ask about things you shouldn’t.”
Azog said coldly.
“I give you one week to take the monastery, or face military discipline.”
The Shaman scrambled away, thanking the chieftain for his “mercy.”
One week… well, it wasn’t without a solution.
Siege tactics were also effective.
As a Crow Speaker, the Shaman knew the details of the battlefield.
The local armed forces of Privet Town were mediocre militia, already routed in the early stages of the Orc invasion.
Now those stubbornly holding out in the monastery were mostly the old, weak, sick, and disabled.
More people were ordinary civilians without combat capability, plus the monastery’s nuns themselves.
Except for that crazy woman who destroyed the stone bridge and that little girl who killed crows with pebbles.
There was really nothing to be nervous about.
Taking Maisolonge would be as easy as taking something from a bag.