Diego stood stupidly at the entrance to the basin, watching the various demons come and go.
No one paid any attention to what he was doing, no one came up to ask, and as for the Overseer that the orc guard had mentioned, he waited for more than half an hour and didn't see him.
"Are we just going to keep waiting?"
Behind him, Masrae's voice rang out.
Out of the corner of his eye, Diego saw a pebble on his side flip over, and then innocently rolled away.
"Don't be in a hurry!"
Diego whispered with barely moving lips.
In fact, for most of the hour he had been waiting, he had been paying attention to his surroundings unnoticed.
To his right, near the foot of the mountain, there was a burrow of orcs.
These orc burrows are located in the outermost part of the basin, and some have even been dug up halfway up the slopes.
It can be seen from the distance between the various demon races and the Dark Gate that the Evil Orcs, a corrupted and transformed half-demon, has a very low status in the Burning Legion, and can be called cannon fodder among cannon fodder, and to be honest, their treatment is not even as good as that of pure-blooded demons like Cerberus.
"Follow me!"
As a group of dwarf Gungar demons walked away from him, Diego turned and headed for the orc cave.
The orc crypt is actually a kind of round pit dug out of the ground, and its above-ground part is a circle of low walls half a man high made of stones, and finally covered with a stitched animal skin as a roof - not necessarily animal skin, sometimes it can be demon skin or orc skin, or even tree bark, orcs are never picky, what to catch.
He didn't bother with the orc crypts closer to the Dark Gate, which were too low to have any shooting range.
He walked straight to the outermost and highest crypt.
He didn't try to hide his tracks, he just walked between the burrows in a big way, the loose sand and gravel characteristic of the desert sliding under his feet, making a rustling sound.
From time to time, he lifted the curtains at the doors of the crypts and looked inside.
There are more or less orcs in the crypt - orcs have never been an industrious race, especially after drinking demonic blood, they have become lazier, and there are even about twenty in one orc crypt at most.
But no one overreacted to his snooping, and the word privacy didn't even appear in the Orc's dictionary.
Occasionally, someone blocked the light from the doorway with their hands, muttering a few curses.
Diego was carefully selecting his targets, looking for the kind of crypt that was packed with people, so that the occupants would not suddenly return and cause unintended variables to his movements.
And the location of the crypt is best located at a high point to ensure his view.
However, there are only a few targets left for him to choose from.
He patrolled the orc camps like this, and saw almost all the orc crypts in the camp, until he almost gave up.
But when he was about to climb halfway up the basin, he finally found his ideal goal.
It was an orc crypt dug halfway up the hillside, and the diggers took full advantage of the location, only building a half-circle of low walls with stones in the direction of the cave towards the center of the basin, and the back half of it seemed to be embedded in the hillside.
Covering the top of the crypt was a stitched together and blood-smelling red hide, apparently peeled from the orc.
Looking through the cracks in the leather curtains, the crypt was full of orcs, about seventeen or eighteen.
Diego breathed a sigh of relief, then pulled the bayonet out of the scabbard on his chest, gently lifted the curtain, and stepped inside.
It may have been the night yesterday, and the orcs in this crypt slept quite deadly.
Diego gently approached the orc closest to the door, kneeling directly down on the unfortunate man's chest with his right knee, covering his mouth with one hand and a bayonet with the other, and brushing it over his neck.
Even after being strengthened by demonic blood many times, the flesh of the orcs has been greatly mutated, and their muscles are knotted, as flexible and powerful as rubber, but in the face of the enchanted stone crow bayonet, their flesh and blood still cannot compete with the sharp steel.
Just like cutting cream, the muscles, nerves, blood vessels, trachea, and even the cervical vertebrae are directly cut off, leaving only a thin layer of skin at the back of the neck connected.
There was no struggle, no rattle, just a "hiss" of blood spurting out of the veins.
The orc awoke suddenly, looking in horror at Diego above him, but it was too late, his life had already left his body with blood, and he didn't even have time to scream before he died.
After a few seconds, the orc's characteristic scarlet eyes finally faded from red, returning to the black they had been before they were contaminated.
Death had finally washed away the corruption and distortion he had endured.
Truth be told, it was the first time for Diego to kill an unresisting enemy like this, but he didn't feel any discomfort, because in his opinion, these orcs were no longer any kind of natural life, but a kind of depraved demonic creatures.
He stood up from the dead orc and reached for the next evil orc.
Just as he came to the orc and covered his mouth with his fangs exposed, an accident happened.
The other orc next to him suddenly woke up, and then opened his eyes to see Diego.
"What are you doing?"
He asked, a little dazed.
I don't know if I was awakened by a keen sense of crisis, or if the other party just wanted to get up and pee, in short, the accident happened!
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"Shit, I hate accidents!"
Diego thought angrily.
Without the slightest hesitation, he didn't let go of his left hand that was covering the mouth of another orc, but with a twist of the tip of the knife, he held the knife in his backhand, and stabbed it into the chest of the awakened evil orc with a "poof"!
The sharp tip of the bayonet stabbed lightly between the hard sternum and leaned against the thoracic vertebrae.
The tactile sensation from the handle of the knife is very real, first penetrating the outer skin and muscles, then a short cavity, and then an extraordinarily tight and dense piece of flesh - the heart!
Without any pause, the bayonet pierced directly through the piece of flesh, and the beating of the heart was transmitted to the hand even through the slight tremor of the blade.
Diego's wrist flicked, and the sharp blade churned to sever the ventricles inside and the arteries above.
As the bayonet was drawn, a large amount of blood was squeezed out like a fountain by the still-pumping heart.
This is a horrific injury that can be fatal.
Like a fresh fish caught ashore, the orc-man's body trembled violently a few times before he lost his life.
He died, but it was an irreparable loss to Diego.
Because of the difficulty of breathing, the orc who was covered by Diego was awakened, although in the next second, his throat was cut off, but before that, his feet had subconsciously kicked a few times - the two orcs sleeping at his feet were kicked awake!
Unable to curse his bad luck, Diego lunged on it and sent one of them to hell with a precise slash, but it was too late to kill the other who came to his senses.
"Hell!"
Looking at the frightened orc who opened his mouth and was about to shout, Diego reached out and touched his back, and now, he had to use his death gaze, as for whether it would alarm the demons in other places, he didn't care so much!
But just then, Diego saw a yellow figure pounce from behind him, its sharp claws slicing through the orc's face at once.