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“Reporting in! The battle at the mouth of the Binfredo River concluded at around ten in the morning!”
“Concluded...? Does that mean the defensive line has fallen?”
“It’s the opposite. The 3rd Wyvern Squadron from the White Bunker has been annihilated. The enemy has retreated.”
“...What?!”
Anthem Howard frowned in disbelief upon hearing the soldier’s report. His once smooth face was now haggard, his beard unkempt, as if he hadn’t washed or slept properly since the war began.
“The magic orbs connected to the defensive line… The 72nd Magic Corps was stationed there, right? Can we contact them? We need to check immediately!” Anthem Howard pushed up his glasses, practically shouting.
The reporting soldier looked at him with a hint of confusion.
“There’s no need for that,” came a voice from behind. “If you're talking about the sorcerers in green robes, the 72nd Magic Corps was already wiped out by the time we arrived. Not a single one was left alive.”
Anthem Howard quickly turned around.
“...!!”
“Sending a 4th Class Magic Corps against drakes... You’ve basically handed them over as prey. I can’t believe that idea came from your...
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