Gromkul's Challenge and the Path Forward
Gromkul himself had boldly declared himself the chieftain of the orcs. To address this unprecedented crisis, an emergency meeting was hastily convened.
An orc chieftain had emerged, and Gromkul had shrewdly observed Berg's tactics from afar, studying them with meticulous intent. The battle just concluded had been a safe, one-sided affair—fought from the safety of the Great Wall, with no significant losses. Battlefield cleanup was routine after any clash, of course, but even that was being half-heartedly managed now as commanders and knights rushed to the meeting room.
"Mm…."
"Hrm…."
The assembled men offered only sighs or muffled groans, none eager to speak first.
An intelligent orc chieftain named Gromkul. His display had been impressively formidable. He hadn't matched Estiang's feat of snatching a hurled spear mid-flight and hurling it back, but his raw strength alone had propelled a javelin across that vast distance. He'd sacrificed two thousand mindless orcs as mere fodder, hurling them haphazardly at the walls while observing and learning human combat methods. Even battle-hardened veterans could only groan in the face of this.
Few solutions came readily to mind.
"If anyone has ideas, speak freely," Estiang said, breaking the silence. But the mood stifled quick responses.
They were experts at butchering hordes of monsters swarming the walls. Yet this was utterly different from a lifetime of such work, so venturing opinions on unfamiliar ground felt presumptuous.
With the situation this dire, Estiang's earlier insistence on strengthening the army now seemed prescient—even admirable. Still, those reforms had been top-down, driven by Estiang's directives from above. The subordinates had simply followed orders, and now the flaws of that unidirectional approach showed.
Estiang's own mind was a tangled snarl, no different.
In truth, orcs are less monsters and more a—another race.
If intelligence distinguished monsters from Different Species, then orcs clearly qualified as the latter. By his guess, the orcs that had attacked the walls today differed from those in villages or Gromkul himself. Or perhaps, like in the games of his past life, some orc shaman had dulled their minds.
Either way, the problem was their tendency to swarm en masse, bellowing threats, unlike elves, beastkin, or dwarves who stayed peacefully in their domains.
Jurchens? Or perhaps Germanic tribes?
Estiang dredged up the closest historical parallels from his knowledge. Goths, Vandals, Franks pouring into Rome like a flood.
But Rome didn't fall solely to the Germanic tribes… no, it was more like mass immigration overwhelming vast western territories.
Many Germanic peoples converted to Christianity, adapted to Latin culture, and sought assimilation into Rome. The last true Roman, Aetius, had led Germanic mercenaries to halt Attila's Huns; Stilicho himself was half-Germanic by blood.
But that's no use for orcs. Germanic integration won't work here.
Orcs were the direct culprits behind centuries of northern torment, virtual archenemies of the north. Northern men bolted upright at the mere word "orc," grabbing axes meant for chopping firewood—their valor fueled in part by instinctive hatred.
Negotiate now? Accept orcs inside the walls for coexistence? Even Rome's assimilation had faltered; assimilating an entirely alien race into human culture seemed laughably improbable. Skepticism was inevitable.
That leaves the Ming and Joseon methods against the Jurchens….
Opening the gates with edicts or registering them by number was impossible for the reasons above. Military measures it was, then.
As Estiang's thoughts deepened, Maximilian quietly raised his hand. All eyes turned to him.
"Your Grace, may I speak?"
"Go ahead."
"As Ranger Company Commander, I propose regular patrol formations for the rangers."
"Regular patrols?"
"Yes, sir." Maximilian nodded. "Even setting aside deeper incursions into the mountains, we should conduct periodic patrols at least in the areas the rangers have already mapped and secured."
"Sound logic. Early surveillance on orc movements?"
"Precisely. They can't hide gatherings of thousands, and we've been purely reactive until now."
That was true. Not just orcs—any monsters appearing beyond the snowfields triggered frantic bell-ringing from the watchtowers. Soldiers would muster to positions for defense, and that had been the pattern.
"Hm…."
As Estiang pondered, his earlier Jurchen analogy sparked a name in his mind.
"Yuan Chonghuan…."
He murmured it softly. The others tilted heads at the unfamiliar name, but Estiang's thoughts raced on.
The Jurchens never breached Shanhai Pass head-on until Li Zicheng's rebellion toppled the Ming and Wu Sangui opened the gates. Yuan Chonghuan had fortified Shanhai Pass and the Yongning-Jinzhou line, embodying cosmic defense alongside Xiong Tingbi against the Jurchens.
Estiang spoke again, resolute.
"No need for full fortification near the snowfield fringes—that's overkill. But we should establish an advance outpost where the rangers push forward and garrison it."
"Excellent idea, Your Grace," Karl interjected, having mulled it over. "Set up surveillance posts to monitor orc activity, station rangers there for regular patrols, and we'll detect large-scale raids in advance."
"No need for heavy defenses, so it won't be a huge burden. If things go south, abandon the post without hesitation and fall back to the fortress."
"Orcs can't match mounted rangers in mobility anyway. Small ranger units moving stealthily would be hard to counter—it'd be infantry chasing cavalry."
"Then we'll build a ranger advance outpost, institute regular patrols, and reinforce the Great Wall against major sieges."
"This time it was two thousand, charging as usual. Who knows next time."
"Precedents exist—monster hordes in the tens of thousands aren't unheard of."
"Wise judgment."
Estiang firmed his resolve. If orcs adapted by observing, Berg could reinforce anew and strike their gaps.
Implement wall upgrades and ranger advances immediately, and Gromkul would need to rethink.
"We'll need substantial imperial support," Estiang muttered.
References flooded his mind. Star forts were low, thick walls for cannon fire—useless unless orcs hauled artillery, a waste otherwise.
But for conventional fortifications, weren't there "emperors of bastions"—two, no less? Both sharing "three" in their names, curiously.
"Lady Roena."
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Prepare a messenger to the capital."
"Understood."
Such massive reinforcements overburdened Berg alone. Better inform the capital formally, request aid from the Emperor.
And then? When orcs swaggered back, boasting of learned tactics, Berg would unveil a hellish defensive line.
A single clash. Brief, but it left Gromkul astonished.
"The humans' leader is a monster in his own right."
On the return to their stronghold, Gromkul muttered as he scanned the familiar snowy peaks with hollow eyes.
The spear returned faster and stronger than his own throw. Gromkul was the strongest warrior and chieftain the greenskins had ever produced, yet even he lacked confidence against the humans' grand duke—one-on-one, at least.
"Great Chieftain."
"I know. No need for empty words."
He brushed off the orc at his side with irritation.
"Our way differs. No need for me to duel their leader personally."
"What will you do first upon return, Great Chieftain?"
"Hmm."
Gromkul trailed off. For all greenskins, the land beyond the wall—human territory—was a cherished dream. Not this barren, frozen wasteland, but warmer soil where they could build true civilization and bequeath it to descendants.
Humans wouldn't yield it willingly, so it must be seized.
"First, we'll put our heads together and deliberate."
"Ways to fight?"
"No—ways to win."
Gromkul bared his tusks in a guttural laugh.
"Can we win?"
"Trust me."
His instant reply sufficed; the other orcs nodded silently.
Their steps toward the stronghold thudded heavily, a band of orcs etching tracks in the snow as they ventured deep into the mountains.