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“We are not in a good position for combat. Let’s keep moving for now,” Urich rushed the mercenaries.
‘That’s not the actual problem.’
Anxiety and dissatisfaction swirled on the mercenaries' faces. Despite gaining the support of the empire with great difficulty, things were not resolving easily. Additionally, a comrade had betrayed them. The enemies pursuing them were not ordinary soldiers but experienced elite cavalry. The mercenaries' morale was understandably low.
'If things stay like this, we'll lose.'
Urich knew. If the mercenaries fought desperately, with his formidable combat skills, there might have been a chance. A warrior with extraordinary prowess like Urich could even elevate the capabilities of other warriors.
'But if we fight now, instead of fighting for their lives, they'll be more inclined to flee.'
Urich understood the nature of the mercenaries. No matter the talk of brotherhood, they were materialists, weighing life against money. If they deemed the risk greater than the reward, they wouldn't hesitate to flee.
"Urich, can you tell how many enemies there are?" Bachman, riding alongside, asked.
Urich glanced back briefly. The enemy was not yet in sight.
"More than us," Urich replied...
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