Reincarnated as a boss tyrant in the game

On the walls of Fortress Three, the human soldiers faced unprecedented pressure.

The tide-like wave of orcs, with their chilling aura, caused a trace of fear to rise in the heart of every soldier.

At this critical moment, Centurion Malik stepped forward, his booming voice like a thunderclap, exploding in the air above the city walls.

"Soldiers, do not fear! Nor can we afford to fear!"

Centurion Malik shouted hoarsely, his eyes firm and blazing, staring intently into the eyes of every soldier.

"Think about the consequences of us retreating. If the fortress falls, the orcs' advance will point directly at our families. Our parents, wives, and children, they are all waiting for us to protect them. We are their last line of defense!"

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His words were like a heavy hammer, striking hard on the hearts of every soldier.

The soldiers raised their heads one after another, looking at Centurion Malik, the fear in their eyes gradually replaced by a kind of firmness.

"The land behind us is where our ancestors have lived for generations, it is our home, how can we let the orcs trample it!" Centurion Malik continued to shout loudly, waving the sword in his hand, pointing into the distance.

"We fight here, not only for ourselves, but also for our loved ones, for our country, for our dignity!"

"Although the orcs are ferocious, we are not weak! We have a strong will, we have weapons in our hands, we have comrades in arms!" Centurion Malik paced back and forth on the city wall, boosting the soldiers' morale.

"We have gone through countless training sessions together, we have overcome many difficult moments together, now is the time for us to show our true strength!"

"Everyone is a hero, everyone shoulders a mission! Let us use the swords in our hands to fight for our families, for our homes, for our honor!"

Centurion Malik's voice was full of passion and power, infecting every soldier.

The soldiers gripped the weapons in their hands tightly, their knuckles turning white from the force.

A firm determination was revealed in their eyes, and that trace of fear had long been thrown to the winds.

The flames of battle burned in their hearts, ready to meet the orcs' frenzied onslaught.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!" The soldiers shouted in unison, their voices resounding through the clouds.

Their morale was high, as if forming an invisible barrier, blocking the orcs' attack.

At this white-hot stage of the battle, survival was at stake. But Centurion Malik's mobilization filled the soldiers' hearts with courage and conviction.

They knew that they could not retreat, they could only move forward bravely, to fight to the death with the orcs in order to protect everything they cherished.

Centurion Malik, the trajectory of his life was like a star from dim to brilliant, leaving a unique and dazzling light in the historical river of the imperial capital, Lodesa.

From then on, his life opened a new chapter.

Following His Highness the Crown Prince, he was exposed to higher-level cultivation resources and methods.

That unique breathing method, like a mysterious key, opened up a deeper level of power within his body.

The fixed monthly share of auxiliary cultivation potions provided a solid guarantee for his cultivation path.

These precious resources, which he would never have dared to imagine in the former slums, had now become an aid to his growth.

During the days following His Highness the Crown Prince, he experienced countless challenges and battles.

Especially in this tense war, he constantly wandered and broke through between life and death.

Every fight with the enemy was a test of his will and strength.

And with his tenacious vitality and his constant striving spirit, he struggled back from the brink of death time and time again,

and in the process, he achieved self-transcendence.

Eventually, he successfully became a Fifth-Order Transcendent, growing from a child in the slums to a mainstay on the battlefield.

In Malik's heart, His Highness the Crown Prince was like a towering lighthouse, illuminating his originally dim life path.

Without His Highness the Crown Prince, he might still be struggling to survive in the slums of the imperial capital, Lodesa, and that once-unattainable dream of cultivation might forever be just a bubble, let alone becoming the now-admired Fifth-Order Transcendent and Centurion.

His Highness the Crown Prince gave him not only the opportunity and resources to cultivate, but also a hope and belief in the future.

This kindness was deeply rooted in Malik's heart, causing him to have complete blind obedience and confidence in His Highness the Crown Prince.

His Highness the Crown Prince entrusted Fortress Three to him, so he must not lose it, otherwise he would be letting down His Highness the Crown Prince's cultivation.

Fortunately, after being by His Highness the Crown Prince's side for a long time, he had learned a lot, and this set of morale-boosting rhetoric,

was also taught to those Royal Guards by His Highness the Crown Prince back then.

At this moment, facing the tide of orcs, Malik felt no fear in his heart, because he firmly believed that as long as they could withstand the first wave of attacks, His Highness the Crown Prince would definitely send troops to support them.

Under Malik's leadership, the soldiers also seemed to be infected by his belief.

They followed closely behind him, gripping the weapons in their hands even tighter, their eyes revealing a firm determination.

They were no longer fighting just for themselves, but for the trust of His Highness the Crown Prince, for the kindness that had given them hope.

In the banquet hall of the Governor-General's Mansion in Stam Fortress.

The lights were bright, the music was melodious, and the atmosphere was warm and cheerful.

Soren, dressed in gorgeous clothes, with a graceful demeanor, was elegantly inviting the Imperial Consort Mariasha to dance the first dance of the banquet.

Imperial Consort Mariasha wore a smile on her face, her eyes revealing a trace of shyness and anticipation. She gently extended her hand, took Soren's arm, and the two prepared to enter the dance floor under the gaze of the crowd.

At this beautiful moment, a burst of hurried footsteps broke the peace and harmony.

A soldier, looking flustered, rushed into the banquet hall.

Ignoring etiquette, he ran straight to Soren, knelt on one knee, and reported loudly: "Your Highness, the orcs have launched a night attack, and the fortress group is in imminent danger."