Chapter Twelve: Merey Camp

Small-scale recruitment efforts actually began after the Battle of the Bosen Plains. Although the Homer army was thoroughly defeated, it was undeniable that the Caucasus army still suffered significant losses under Homer’s attacks, whether among the barbarians or half-orcs. For the barbarian warriors of the Trija tribe, replenishing their ranks was not yet a concern for Komer, but the half-orcs needed to make up for their losses as soon as possible. Yet both Komer and Fran believed this battle was well worth it. Just from the perspective of training the army, it had already produced many outstanding half-orc officers. Moreover, after going through this trial by fire, the large number of half-orc soldiers had become more mature, especially after facing both the enemy’s magic and brute force—making this experience all the more valuable.

Long queues formed in front of the recruitment stations in Izmel, Mando, Banasha, Merey, and Muscat. Among miners and soldiers, the half-orcs clearly preferred the role of soldiers. As long as they met the requirements, they preferred to become part of the glorious Caucasus army. Baoling once again took on the responsibility of selecting and providing initial training, which made him sigh at the unfairness of fate.

Whenever such tedious and trivial tasks fell on him, he would feel frustrated. Yet, seeing those eager and longing eyes, and thinking about how these naive individuals would gradually mature under his guidance and become barely competent soldiers, he felt a sense of satisfaction. Using demonic training methods to torment these energetic half-orcs who didn’t know how to channel their strength was always Baoling’s favorite task. Now, with Miss Shatima, who seemed even more twisted than him, arriving, Baoling couldn’t help but feel pity for these half-orcs full of dreams and illusions. Soon, they would realize that while enjoying what they thought were generous benefits as Caucasus soldiers, they would also endure demonic torment.

Shatima paced back and forth on the training ground with her hands behind her back—a reward given to her by Komer. Her success in winning over Leclerc was credited to her, a fact even Komer seemed unable to deny. As a result, she was given a reward: to go to Merey to assist Baoling in training the newly arrived half-orc recruits. Her main task was to help these half-orcs transform their abnormal physical strength into real combat capabilities.

Baoling was also happy to hand this arduous task over to this plump, perverted woman. Now, throughout the Caucasus, even those idle drunks in the taverns seemed to believe that their lord had developed some peculiar taste when it came to women. Otherwise, a woman like Miss Shatima, who had an attractive figure but strange manners, would not have become the lord’s mistress. Everyone agreed that Miss Shatima must be the product of Lord Komer’s unique tastes, not even military and political officials like Baoling and Neptune were an exception.

Shatima looked down on the group of foolish half-beast soldiers with pride. She felt comfortable under their awed gazes—it was an unprecedented pleasure, completely different from anything she had experienced before. In the past, the way those people looked at her had been either lustful or strange; well, how to put it? It was as if they saw her as an outsider. But she had finally proven that she wasn’t an outsider. She could accomplish the tasks they could, and even those they couldn’t. All of this was Lord Komer’s reward and trust in her after she completed the task—a trust that was extremely rare, and Shatima was determined not to disappoint or waste it.

“Soldiers, start running! Thirty laps around the field!”
“Soldiers, move! Raise your weapons and keep a steady pace!”
“Look straight ahead and advance steadily! Sword and shield bearers, raise your shields and push forward! Spear bearers, charge, charge! Keep doing it over and over!”
Wielding her whip proudly, Shatima held her head high. Her legs, encased in high leather boots, were slightly awkwardly spread as she stood on the ridge. Her pants clung tightly to her body, outlining her full, tempting buttocks and even revealing the subtle shapes of them, making them particularly striking.

Shatima shouted angrily at the group of half-orcs with bare chests before her, their oily, shiny backs looking particularly muscular under the sunlight. She instinctively licked her lips as soldiers armed with shields and axes ran past her in neat formations, as ordered by the veterans. Yellow dust filled the cleared training ground, and each squad was full of high morale. With such a beautiful instructor standing before them, though her unrefined demeanor was striking, it fit the half-orcs’ aesthetic better. Their iron armor couldn’t conceal their prominent chests, broad faces, plump red lips, or their loud voices. Perhaps their screams in bed would be utterly intoxicating—this was what a real woman was like!

Although Shatima was naive, she could discern something from the subtle glances in the eyes of the soldiers passing by. Yet this didn’t bother her; instead, she felt a sense of pride. Those mediocre mortals had no idea what a true beauty was. Though they coveted her beauty, not one of them dared to express it to her. Aside from Komer, who brazenly lingered on her chest, the others could only steal glances from afar—disappointing indeed.

The arrival of a beautiful woman always stirred the half-orcs’ desire. Even Baoling had noticed this. But soon, these half-orc soldiers realized Miss Shatima’s intensity. Though her presence on the training ground sparked their lust in the short term, the relentless physical training filled almost all their time, leaving them in agony. As a result, they regarded Baoling’s drills in formation as a true pleasure.

“You filthy pigs, run faster! Even turtles are faster than you! Look at your steps—what were you doing last night? Lying with some woman? I’m ashamed of you!”

“Madelk Squad, are you rabbits? So cowardly?! Sprint across there! Repeat it—hundred times! If you don’t finish it, you won’t get to eat!”

“Thunderstorm, you idiot! How much slower is your squad compared to Degud’s? Why are you lowering your head? Did a woman’s thighs crush your brain? Run 15 kilometers, twice—do it now!”

“You filthy pigs! I don’t need you to maintain dignity—I want speed, speed! You’re no damn knights; you’re warriors who must kill every warrior in their path. Charge! Charge!”
Baoling was used to Miss Shatima’s rudeness and violence. In fact, not only him but all the instructors at the Mo Xin recruit training camp had grown accustomed to her uniqueness and extremism. The human instructors were surprised by their lord’s peculiar taste in women, while the orc instructors were even secretly pleased that their lord’s preference for women was leaning toward their own race.
Swear words and whips formed the backdrop of Shatima’s entire training regimen. Yet Baoling had to admit that Miss Shatima’s extraordinary physical strength was more than enough to overwhelm anyone who dared challenge her authority. Whether in physical demonstrations or one-on-one combat, she far surpassed everyone else, leaving even the most rebellious orcs speechless.
Only when they saw Shatima shatter boulders with a punch, knock down tree trunks the size of bowls with a single leg, lift boulders with one hand, and run 20 kilometers in full armor weighing 50 kilograms without showing any sign of fatigue did the orcs realize that their pride in physical strength was utterly insignificant in front of this fierce female instructor. Those who dared challenge her either returned bruised and battered or went willingly to the training ground to endure extreme punishment. Such incidents happened almost every time new recruits arrived, always ending in the same way, and had become entertainment for the veteran soldiers watching these “amateur games.”
Endless long-distance runs under heavy loads, exhausting sprints, monotonous and dull combat drills—all of this made the orcs, who had never experienced such life before, realize that being a soldier wasn’t something that could be accomplished merely with courage and enthusiasm. After enduring the brutal training during the day, the soldiers even suffered from nightmares at night, all stemming from that demonic female instructor.

A constant stream of new recruits provided Shatima and Baoling with an endless supply of victims to torment. Every half-orc soldier who graduated from the Molei New Recruit Training Camp would never forget the first lesson they learned there. As a result, the Molei New Recruit Training Camp earned the nickname “Molei Concentration Camp,” which became a source of pride for these recruits to boast about to other soldiers in the future. Many years later, they could still recount their glorious experiences at Molei with pride, knowing they had graduated from the renowned “Molei Concentration Camp.” For Shatima, this was also the proudest chapter of her career—she became the infamous fierce instructor at Molei Concentration Camp. The instructors who trained under her were also influenced by her, and in subsequent recruit training, they adhered strictly to her methods, helping to forge the formidable style of the Caucasus Half-Orc Army.