Chapter 300: Honor, Guts, and Ogre Funk Warlord Krage had a formidable constitution. I watched him stride close to the corpses of ogres and trolls, seemingly unfazed by the stench that made my eyes water now that the adrenaline of battle had faded. His boots, along with those of the two clerics flanking him, were soon caked in bloody mud and gore. The dry grass swayed lazily in the still air, causing me to think they had avoided the worst of the odor thanks to a stiff breeze conjured by one of the clerics. I caught fragments of Orcish spoken between them, mostly astonished remarks about the sheer scale of the carnage.Relief swept over me when Krage’s men emerged from the tree line ahead of my companions and charges. For a moment, I had feared they might have retreated when the cavalry arrived, mistaking it for a hostile force.Mynasha approached, unsteady in her saddle. Krage’s gaze flicked to her, but it was Glasha he recognized. Glasha, it seemed, was either widely traveled or well known among the orc ranks.One of Krage’s clerics stepped forward and bowed respectfully. “War Cleric Mynasha,” he said, his voice tinged with veneration, “I have heard tales of your prowess—but witnessing your control of lightning with my own eyes is truly an honor.”Mynasha didn’t respond, and I think she was using all her energy to remain awake and stay in the saddle. Glasha greeted the orcs with a smile. “Warlord Krage. Cleric Falasha. Cleric Ottasha. You are a long way from your cities.”Warlord Krage addressed Glasha stiffly. I guessed there might be some animosity between the two, judging from his tone. “We were on our way to the Choosing to support Cleric Ottasha when we were informed of the invasion from the Endless Dark.”