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Creak, creak.
The tents were being quietly withdrawn as the Alliance Army prepared to retreat while the sun was still down in order to avoid any unexpected counterattacks from the empire.
‘The Imperial Army probably doesn’t know how starved we are.’
Belrua slowly chewed the last piece of jerky, savoring it slowly, almost as if she were trying to dissolve it in her mouth. With supply lines completely cut off, the Porcana-Alliance army was in a state of famine.
‘We’ve even lost our hope in victory. It’s over.’
Staying here longer would only result in starvation and annihilation. The best course of action was to plunder the imperial lands on the way back and inflict as much damage on the empire as possible.
“Even though we’re without Urich, we still need to prepare for the next step.”
Belrua looked at the Alliance Army busy with their preparations for withdrawal.
‘Even if it weren’t for Six-Fingered’s divination, it’s highly likely that Urich is dead.’
The situation was dire. It would have been more comforting to see bodies struck down by swords, but most of the warriors who invaded Hamel had burned to death.
“Belrua, do you really think Urich is dead? How can we retreat now after coming this far?”
A warrior draped in a bear skin approached, voicing his discontent. He was the chief of the Karkar Tribe which was located in the westernmost part of the west.
“It’s already...
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