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Seeing the golden-haired girl's expression of wanting to comfort him, Chen Xuanfeng smiled and said, "Innate racial traits can't be altered. On the other hand, if I can defeat the Lion Clan with Wolf Riders this time, wouldn't that make an even stronger statement?"

"Uh-huh!" Seeing Chen Xuanfeng's expression, the girl also let go of her concerns and nodded with a smile.

Just as Chen Xuanfeng had anticipated, the strategy of the Lion Clan's Splitfang family contained almost no deceit—it was a true battle of soldiers against soldiers, generals against generals. Both sides understood that this was not a life-or-death struggle aimed at annihilating the enemy's forces, but a collision of power to compete for the future leadership and status of the alliance. Even if Chen Xuanfeng's side won, they could not exterminate the Splitfang family, at most suppressing and extorting them. Conversely, even if the Splitfang family crushed Chen Xuanfeng's ragtag forces, they could do nothing against his Sanctuary-level power. At most, they could feign compliance if he later commanded them as the Orc King or Lion Clan chieftain.

Thus, this battle held no schemes. Both sides intended to display their strongest martial prowess, settling the matter in true orc fashion.

When the noon sunlight poured down, the two orcish armies formally drew up their battle lines, ready to commit to the decisive clash.

Like the Lion Clan side, Chen Xuanfeng also showed respect for this crucial battle, with no intention of launching a surprise attack or assassinating the enemy's commanders beforehand. Instead, he openly arrayed his forces for a confrontation. Of course, once the battle began, anything goes—any means of victory would be fair game.

There was no need for excessive words or repeated accusations. Once on the battlefield, even the most humanized orcs would feel their blood boil. Though tactical cunning was not rejected, calculations of interest beyond the fight were inevitably cast aside, leaving only the warlike passion flowing in orcish blood since ancient times and the unchanging truth—

To the victor go the spoils.

"For the glory of the Lion, charge—!" Standing beneath the golden banner of the Lion Clan's camp, Beria, clad in crimson and gold heavy armor and brandishing a longsword, led thousands of elite Lion warriors to ignite the first wave of battle.

"In the name of the 'Orc King,' warriors of the Wolf Clan, advance—!" Chen Xuanfeng did not charge out alone either. Mounted on his specter wolf, he drew the massive Tiger Soul Blade and led three thousand Snow Wolf Knights forward.

Soon after, forces across the battlefield joined the advance. The difference was that the Lion Clan side launched an all-out, tidal wave of steel, with each unit advancing almost shoulder-to-shoulder, forming an unrelenting front. In contrast, Chen Xuanfeng's forces followed closely behind him, forming a spearhead formation.

This was natural. The Lion Clan's seven legions were all seasoned veterans. Though Beria had gained command of the army, he could not win their loyalty. Each legion had its own tactics and pride. While they could cooperate, forming a true core was difficult. Thus, allowing each legion commander to organize their attacks freely, trusting their command skills and combat prowess, yielded greater strength than forced centralized control. Chen Xuanfeng's side was the opposite. Though most of his Wolf Riders were Wolf Clan members trained in his personal martial arts and had seen many battles, they were still a young force. Coupled with their racial disadvantage, free attacks would only make them prey for Lion Clan elites. Thus, without needing orders, they instinctively gathered behind their strongest leader, surging through the gaps Chen Xuanfeng tore open—a classic wolf-pack tactic.

Chen Xuanfeng did not unleash the Sword of Divine Punishment's platinum blades to slash wildly, for he clearly sensed at least three powerful forces watching him from the enemy camp. Though his Sanctuary-level power feared no foe, he knew what those three forces represented.

"Orc Sword Emperors... three of them?" Chen Xuanfeng cursed inwardly.

Having witnessed Warcraft Orcs in battle before, Chen Xuanfeng knew their strength. Though slightly inferior to human Young Sword Saints in overall power, when they combined their inherited super-beast magic with Sword Emperor-level combat energy to unleash true arcane combat arts, their instantaneous lethality could surpass even Young Sword Saints with activated domains. Though such explosive power couldn't be sustained for long, Chen Xuanfeng was certain that if he drew the Sword of Divine Punishment, they would unleash their strongest attacks on his army, turning the battle into a tragedy with no victors.

"Hmph, so that's their plan." Chen Xuanfeng immediately understood. "I led this army to showcase the 'Orc King's' ruling ability, not the 'Saint's' killing power. If I just slaughter everything alone, I'd be nothing but a crueler version of Leimen, not a second Samantha-like leader. Only by subduing the Splitfang family can I prove my capability, and taming the Warcraft Orcs is the benchmark. They've seized on this, knowing I won't snipe three rare Orc Sword Emperors, so they set this up to show their resolve to sacrifice three Sword Emperors to neutralize me, denying my army decisive support. Once the Lion Clan gains the upper hand and I'm forced to act, they'll use the Warcraft Orcs and other Sword Emperors to tie me down. Driving me away would be victory, and even if that fails, their army's advantage would remain, resulting in a draw that still secures them benefits."

This strategy was among the possibilities Chen Xuanfeng had anticipated. Both sides knew they couldn't utterly destroy the other, so exploiting the "rules" became viable tactics—no unacceptable trickery here. Though the number of Orc Sword Emperors was slightly unexpected, it didn't disrupt Chen Xuanfeng's response.

"Though I have no shortage of arcane might, today isn't a slaughter contest... Let's go back to fundamentals, then!" Chen Xuanfeng sneered, white light flashing around him as a Saint Ice Thorn Aura enveloped hundreds of meters. Then, his tens of thousands of Wolf Riders shimmered with the triple-speed Magic Aura. Finally, nine massive black mist-formed dragon heads emerged from his body, writhing and twisting toward the Lion warriors ahead.