The sword slashed diagonally, and another head flew into the air, the cannibal’s foul blood gushing out like a fountain from its neck.

Half of Richard’s body had been dyed dark red, making him look even more savage under the flickering torchlight.

With Bruce’s defeat, there was nothing left to stop Richard, Ron, and the crusaders.

Armed with their longswords, spearmen followed close behind, forming the vanguard of the attack. No enemy could stand in their way.

Sometimes, a single strike from a crusader’s sword would send an orc staggering to the ground, but the most resilient ones still struggled to rise, howling in agony, only to be pierced through by spears from behind.

Behind them, some orcs emerging from their tents were named on the spot by the marksmen, who unleashed a barrage of arrows that incapacitated them in an instant, leaving them no chance to engage Richard and his men.

The battle tilted completely in favor of the humans; the invincible might of the orcs had turned into helpless lambs awaiting slaughter.

The desperate casualties and despairing battlefield caused even these cruel and warlike orcs to waver.

The ones emerging from the tents no longer rushed recklessly out onto the main road through the village center. The cloak of night was the perfect cover for escape; ancient armies typically did not fight at night precisely because it was difficult to control one’s troops in the dark. It was a test of individual soldiers’ fighting spirit and discipline.

During the day, officers and their second-in-commands kept watch, and camaraderie among fellow soldiers kept the rank and file in check, ensuring a certain level of discipline and fighting spirit even in ordinary armies.

But at night, with orders difficult to relay, soldiers with weak fighting spirits would easily find excuses to avoid battle under the cover of darkness, leaving only the most elite to maintain their discipline and resolve.

Clearly, Richard and his army of Heroes were elite, but the orcs fell short. Though fierce and unyielding, with fighting spirits as strong as any, they still attempted to fight back even when completely overwhelmed. Yet in terms of discipline, there was a marked difference between the two sides.

The soldiers under Richard’s command fought in seamless coordination, like so many finely tuned killing machines, while the orcs fought like headless flies, careening into death.

When the casualties reached a certain point, even the courageous and valiant cannibals began to retreat. Many of the demons fortunate enough to evade the marksmen’s first wave of attacks turned to slip away under the cover of night.

If any other army had faced a similar situation, they would have found it difficult to chase down every last enemy in the dark, but Richard was a man of his word. If he said he would not spare a single one, he would follow through.

Even as some of the fleeing demons reached the outskirts of the village, Richard continued to lead his troops in purging those who dared to resist and the helpless elderly hiding inside their homes, as if he had no intention of chasing after the cowardly runaways.

The escaped demons felt both shame and relief as they fled under the cover of night. After all, death by battle was nobler than death by starvation; staying in the village meant certain death.

They could still faintly hear their compatriots’ enraged roars and the pitiful cries of the helpless elderly, but none wished to linger near the village for even a second longer, choosing instead to continue fleeing.

Those who managed to escape temporarily lowered their moral standards, just as any other army would; their sole thought was survival.

The village grew more and more blurry behind them, and the screams from the village became indistinct. Only the towering inferno of flames continued to remind them of the events still unfolding within.

Finally safe.

They had fled far enough. The quiet fields occasionally echoed with the chirping of crickets, and the occasional cry of a hawk…

Where did the hawks come from?

This was the last thought of the few escaped demons.

The reason why Richard and his soldiers didn’t pursue the fleeing demons was simple: no matter how fast they ran, they couldn’t outrun the royal griffins circling overhead.

Griffins were ill-suited for plunging into villages filled with tightly packed houses, and Richard had not ordered them to participate in the fighting within the village either. Their orders were only to patrol around the village and to kill any demon who managed to escape.

While griffins may have been ill-suited for confined spaces, they were undoubtedly terrifying in open fields.

Accompanied by piercing cries, these fierce beasts of the sky dove toward the fleeing demons below, claws outstretched, ready to rend their prey.

With the force of their plunge, a royal griffin’s claws could easily pierce through a demon’s skull. Even if their strike didn’t kill their target outright, they could always ascend back into the sky to search for another opportunity, until they had torn their prey apart, drenching them in blood and leaving them unable to move.

If the demons had kept their wits about them, standing together with their long weapons, perhaps they could have injured some of the attacking griffins. But these fleeing demons had already been scared out of their minds, and many had even lost their weapons, so they were in no state to fight back, and in the end, the royal griffins picked them off one by one.

“A glorious victory!”

As the last demon was found and dealt with, the System chirped with a melodious notification.

The crusaders entering the houses didn’t spare any demons, regardless of age or strength, and firmly carried out Richard’s orders—no survivors. Even Ron, who had always been more sympathetic than others, showed no mercy when he swung his weapon.

After all, those bodies hanging to be used as food were real, and fighting with demons was far more brutal than fighting with humans. There was no room for negotiation between the two sides; it was a race war, and only the fittest would survive.

“Obtained 5,500 experience points.”

This battle provided Richard with 5,500 experience points.

They had also made significant progress on their mission objectives. They had killed 317 ordinary giants, not far from the target of 500, but only one giant warrior, a paltry number compared to the ten required by the mission.

The last time they had killed fifty giants, they were rewarded with a pair of Divine Treads. Richard was quite curious as to what reward awaited them upon completion of this more difficult quest.

Moreover, it must be said that the experience gained from killing giants far exceeded that which could be obtained from fighting other giants. They were now not far from the next level-up. While the invasion of the giants constituted a catastrophe for the northern lands, for Richard, it presented an opportunity.

The battle raged for nearly half the night, ending only when the last giant lay defeated as the sky began to lighten. Pato, sword in hand, stood beside Richard, still catching his breath.

Richard had originally planned to keep him out of the fray, seeing him merely as an envoy; however, given that they were fighting in their own territory, Richard’s decision to engage personally left Pato with no other choice.

However, if the marauders were in Richard’s territory, Pato couldn’t stand idly by, even if he was only a quasi-knight. Though he had joined the fray, his rank afforded him few opportunities to attack. Yet accompanying the army gave him an opportunity to observe Richard’s men, and this was the first time he had seen more than twenty knight-ranked fighters attack together.

The glow of their collective energy illuminated a small patch of night sky, turning the charging giants into moths plunging into a bright light, doomed to die.

Yet even with such powerful knights, the other units still shone brightly. The vicious spearman, whose deadly attacks were perfectly synchronized, and the marksmen, whose deadly arrows pierced the air, all left an indelible impression on Pato.

The next step in driving out the giants would not be combat, but rather how to gather the gold pieces and supplies promised to Richard.