I Have a Task Log

Chapter 472: Chapter 471: Counting the Casualties

There were eleven fatalities in the battle that just ended.

Of those eleven, ten died in close-quarters combat. The Orcs and Dire Wolves coordinated seamlessly; anyone dragged from the wagon fort, even an elite warrior in Plate Armor, was cut down by an Orc’s Battle Axe.

The eleventh was an unlucky Half-Elf Ranger who took an Orc’s Javelin to the head while in the middle of the crowd.

Those who died instantly were essentially gone for good.

In addition, nine people were seriously wounded and thirty-one were lightly injured.

They had all been wounded while exchanging ranged fire with the Orcs.

Orelia and the two Druids from the caravan were using Divine Arts to treat the wounded.

Both Druids were novices, only able to use Tier One Divine Arts. They were followers of the Goddess of Harvest, specializing in Divine Arts that accelerated plant growth and healed wounds.

Judging by the number of casualties, the battle had been incredibly brutal.

Real combat isn’t just two sides hacking away at each other until the last man falls. After all, even the morale of battle-hardened veterans can break.

In fact, most armies can only sustain a casualty rate of about ten to twenty percent.

Any higher, and the army itself would collapse, unless driven by extreme fanaticism or left with no choice but to fight.

The caravan’s Mercenaries had held out for so long not only because the enemy had completely surrounded the wagon fort, leaving no route of escape, but also because their enemies were Orcs. Surrendering to Orcs was little different from being killed in battle, so they had no choice but to fight to the last.

Since Colin had only been casting Magic from the rear, he hadn’t fully grasped the situation at the front lines. It wasn’t until he saw the casualty figures that the true brutality of the battle hit him.

As Colin was staring blankly at the distant caravan, the merchant approached him.

The smile on his face grew increasingly fawning. After witnessing the performance of Colin’s party, the merchant’s estimation of the noble, Albert, had risen considerably.

A noble who could afford to hire High-tier Adventurers was certainly not short on money.

And nobles who weren’t short on money were, for the most part, powerful nobles.

The merchant spoke up. "Sirs, regarding the loot, please, take your pick first. We’ll take care of anything you can’t carry."

"We agree," Albert said with a nod.

Colin then called Kase and the others over to start sorting through the captured loot.

First up was the equipment from the two Shargath Red-Fangs.

They wore good-quality Studded Leather Armor and wielded decent Scimitars. They also carried silver sacrificial Daggers and Divine Emblems. Though not Magic Equipment, they should still fetch a good price.

In addition, each of the two Shargath Red-Fangs carried two Healing Potions, for a total of four Potions.

They had died so quickly that neither had a chance to drink them.

From the Ettin’s pack, they also recovered a tapestry and a Gold-Inlaid Short Sword.

The tapestry was covered in the Giant’s snot, and the Short Sword had food residue on it. The Giant had likely been using them as a handkerchief and a toothpick, respectively.

If not for Ale’s keen eye, Colin’s group would have likely overlooked these items. Once cleaned up, they proved to be quite valuable.

Then there were materials like Dire Wolf Hides and Giant fingers and toes, as well as Orc equipment in good condition.

As for the captured Gold Coins, Colin’s party and the caravan ultimately agreed on a 60/40 split. The caravan then distributed its entire share as bonuses to the Mercenaries.

After all the calculations, Colin’s party stood to gain over six hundred Gold Coins and four Healing Potions from the fight against the Orc raiding party.

This was about as much as Colin’s group could carry.

The remaining Orc Weapons and Armor were loaded onto the caravan’s wagons. Despite their casualties, the caravan had still managed to turn a profit.

Most of the Mercenaries had no objections. It was clear to anyone that without the adventurer party, they most likely wouldn’t have survived the raid.

This went to show that the Orc raiding party’s assessment of its own combat strength had been fairly accurate.

After gathering the spoils, the caravan decided to make camp and rest for the night.

Colin’s group simply laid out their sleeping bags by their wagon, had a meal, and turned in early.

「The next morning.」

Lying in his sleeping bag, Colin opened his eyes and yawned.

"Did we wake you, Colin?"

"Mr. Colin slept in."

The voices of Ale and Orelia reached his ears, one after the other.

Colin turned his head and saw the Half-Elf, her golden hair tied up on her head. Droplets of water still clung to the strands and dotted her cheeks.

A patch of sunlight fell across her fair face, causing the droplets to glitter like scattered starlight.

’Her face is really stunning,’ Colin thought to himself.

Her small face turned toward him. Her large eyes blinked. "Colin, are you spacing out?" she asked.

"No, I’m just going to wash my face," Colin said with another yawn. He packed up his sleeping bag and headed to the nearby stream to wash up.

When he got there, he saw Albert juggling a toothbrush, tooth powder, a washbasin, and a bar of soap. The man was clumsily trying to wash his face and brush his teeth by the stream, clearly unaccustomed to the lack of servants.

Seeing him struggle, Colin was reminded of his own morning routine before he came to this world.

Once they were finished, the two of them walked back to the caravan together.

The aroma of stew wafted up from the campfires. People from the caravan were sitting in small groups, chatting and eating breakfast.

Colin and Albert rejoined their group.

Albert unhurriedly took an iron kettle and a tin box from his bag.

He took a butter cookie from the tin, carefully broke it in half, and handed one piece to Orelia, who was watching him eagerly.

Orelia accepted the cookie, smiling as she nodded at him. "Thank you, Mr. Weston."

Albert noticed Colin’s gaze and asked with a miserable look, "Do you want some too, Colin?"

"No, thanks. I’m not a big fan," Colin said, keenly sensing Albert’s reluctance to share. There weren’t many butter cookies left in the tin anyway.

Albert breathed a sigh of relief.

He then took out two plates, two dining knives, and a towel.

After Kase handed him his portion of stew and bread, Albert draped the towel over his shoulder and began to slowly cut the bread and the larger chunks in the stew into small pieces.

Only when everything was prepared to his satisfaction did he begin to eat, picking up the pieces of food with just three fingers, his pinky delicately raised. After each bite, he would meticulously wipe his fingers on the towel over his shoulder.

The others around him were already used to this display.

’Ale’s ability to adapt is pretty impressive,’ Colin thought. ’When I first met her, aside from her fondness for speaking the ancient Common Language, she didn’t really have any other strange habits.’

Just as they were relaxing, Mog, who was nearby, suddenly charged toward a tall fir tree in the distance.

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