Ainz Ooal Gown: Noble Knight

He reached out and gently pushed Rune's hand back.

"Even if the orcish army on the front lines were to return to defend, my strength would be more than sufficient to handle them. Besides..."

"Sebastian".

Rune interrupted him.

Rune raised his head, his gaze meeting Sebastian's. The twilight cast interplay of light and shadow on his face, and the resolute look in his light green eyes made Sebastian momentarily stunned.

“I know Sebastian is strong,” Rune said confidently, “stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. You might think that carrying this item is an unnecessary burden, that it is…”

He paused for a moment, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly.

"But Sebastian."

Rune took half a step forward, getting closer to Sebastian, and handed the metal piece over again, this time directly into Sebastian's hand.

"If something happens to you, I will regret it for the rest of my life."

These words were like a pebble thrown into the calm lake of Sebastian's heart.

Sebastian looked down at the small metal piece in his palm. The copper-colored surface still retained the warmth of Rune's palm, and the magic crystal emitted a faint blue light that flickered between his fingerprints.

The young man in front of me could have stayed in the territory as a noble young master, drinking red tea, looking at account books, and waiting to inherit the title.

But he didn't.

He chose this more difficult path for the sake of peace, a path that is thankless and may even stain his hands with blood.

And now, he's worried that something might happen to him, the "old steward from the empire."

Sebastian slightly tightened his fingers, holding the metal piece in his palm.

“Lord Rune, I accept it.” Sebastian decided not to refuse Rune’s kindness anymore, even if the item’s purpose was merely to reassure Mr. Rune.

Rune paused for a moment, then laughed.

The smile looked especially bright in the twilight, as if the person had breathed a sigh of relief and was finally at ease.

"That's good." His tone lightened a bit. "Sebastian, you're not allowed to throw it away secretly. This prop is very troublesome to make and quite expensive. I'll be heartbroken if you throw it away."

Sebastian's lips twitched slightly as he watched Sebastian suddenly become so calculating.

"Will not."

"That's good." Rune nodded and turned to walk towards the camp. After taking a couple of steps, he turned back. "Sebastian, have you had dinner? The kitchen stewed some meat today, similar to the mutton in the Dragon Kingdom, and it tasted alright."

Sebastian followed.

"Then I'll have to trouble you."

After dinner, Rune did not return to his tent.

He sat on a rock lit by a campfire at the edge of the camp, holding a half-cup of cold red tea, his gaze fixed on the hills in the distance, swallowed by the night.

Sebastian has already gone back to his tent to rest.

According to the newly established plan, he will set off alone early tomorrow morning, heading towards the front line of the Orc Kingdom.

Rune and his cavalry regiment would follow behind, covering a distance that would take half a day.

They took in prisoners, dealt with surrendered orcs, and swept through some villages, but Rune had promised Sebastian that he would no longer treat prisoners in the same way as before.

Rune mentally reviewed the next route to make sure nothing was missed before letting out a slight sigh of relief.

He glanced down at the teacup in his hand; the tea had gone completely cold, and a fine layer of water droplets condensed on the cup's surface.

Sebastian only needs to kill enemies on the front lines, while Rune has many more things to consider in the rear.

"Harmful."

He sighed softly, though it was unclear whether he was sighing over the herbal tea or something else entirely.

"I guess I'll just have to suffer myself."

The sound was very soft, carried away by the night wind, and disappeared into the crackling of the campfire at the campsite.

The next morning, before dawn.

When Sebastian stepped out of the tent, Rune was already standing at the camp entrance waiting for him.

"Sebastian," Rune's voice came, "So early?"

“Lord Rune is the same.” Sebastian walked closer and saw that Rune’s shoulders and hair were covered with a fine layer of dew, indicating that he had been standing there for a long time.

Rune didn't respond to that, but instead took out a cloth bag from his pocket and handed it over.

"Dry rations. Food for the road."

Sebastian took the cloth bag, weighed it in his hand, and found it to be quite heavy.

“And this.” Rune took another water pouch from his waist. “Water. The water sources in the Orc Kingdom aren’t necessarily clean.”

Sebastian took them one by one and hung them on his waist.

After doing all this, Rune remained silent for a moment.

"Sebastian".

"exist."

“If…” Rune paused, as if choosing his words carefully, “if we encounter something we really can’t defeat, we will try our best to stall for time and then rush to our aid.”

Sebastian was slightly taken aback.

He looked into Rune's exceptionally bright eyes, remained silent for a moment, and then nodded slightly.

"I've got it."

"That's good." Rune took a step back. "Go."

Sebastian turned around and walked out of the camp.

Rune stood there, watching Sebastian's figure gradually disappear.

He only looked away and turned to walk back to the camp when he heard Gehrman's gruff voice in the distance.

The stage is set up, now…

Chapter 75 Orcs Return to Reinforcements

In the heart of the Orc Kingdom, a large Orcish caravan was marching along a dirt road through the hills.

The group was mainly composed of orc warriors with bear heads and human bodies. They marched in a loose formation, their steps heavy, each one causing the ground to tremble slightly.

Their fur was mostly brownish-black, with a dull sheen in the sunlight. They carried iron axes or bone spears at their waists, and a few carried huge wooden shields on their backs.

At the very front of the group, a particularly large bear-headed orc was striding along.

He was a full head taller than the other bear-men, with shoulders as broad as a wall, and several old scars running across his dark brown fur.

His round, bear-like eyes were half-closed, his lips were turned down, and his expression was clearly displeased.

Urgov, leader of the Giant Claw tribe.

He resembles Weighie, the "claw" of the four-legged beast of Aberleen Hills.

Its upper body is in the shape of a black bear.

From a human perspective, if you only look at the upper body, it's almost impossible to tell the difference.

However, orcs and beastmen with animal bodies and four legs are actually two different races.

Behind him followed a group of orc warriors with bear heads and human bodies, the line stretching all the way to the bend in the hills, seemingly endless.

Urgov walked along, muttering curses as he went.

"That old bastard, the Orc King."

His voice was rough, filled with barely suppressed anger.

"How could someone with my formidable fighting strength be relegated to the very back of the army in the battle to destroy the Dragon Kingdom!"

He swung his thick arm forcefully, as if shooing away an invisible fly.

"I can't even get a sip of soup on the front lines! All the credit was stolen by those small tribes, and the spoils of war were just a tiny bit. My warriors didn't even get enough to fill their teeth!"

He grew angrier as he spoke, and his steps became heavier, leaving deep footprints.

"That's fine then."

He exhaled a heavy breath from his nose, his nostrils flaring, revealing dark fur inside.

"Now it's even worse! They're saying there are human cavalry infiltrating our rear and harassing us. Let me come back and clean up these flies!"

His voice rose a few decibels, and several bear-man warriors standing nearby involuntarily shrank back.

"My troops haven't even fought many battles on the front lines, and they're being sent back to do this kind of menial work! By the time I finish cleaning up these flies and go back, all the credit for the main battles will have been distributed! I won't get anything!"

Urgov was panting heavily, his chest heaving. He turned his head and glared at a hyena-headed, humanoid orc following slightly behind him.

The hyena-like beastman was lean and wiry, with long, thin limbs and grayish-brown fur interspersed with several stripes of varying shades. His yellowish-green vertical pupils were slightly narrowed, as if he were deep in thought.

He followed closely beside Urgov, his steps light, his thin shoulders slightly hunched, his posture respectful.

Grik, the strategist of the Giant Claw tribe, and also Urgov's confidant.

The Orc Kingdom is a nation formed by the union of multiple orc tribes.

The tribes have considerable autonomy.

Occasionally, orcs from different tribes would go to live in other tribes, but it was quite rare for an outsider like the hyena-headed strategist to become a trusted confidant of a tribal chief.

It's clear this guy is quite skilled at patting bears on the backside.

Urgov glared at him and said gruffly, "Grik, tell me, did that old bastard screw me over?"

Glick's eyes rolled.

He leaned forward and lowered his voice:

"My lord, there is no need to worry."

Urgov turned his head to the side, his bear-like eyes staring at him, a heavy breath coming out of his nostrils.