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Demilo watched the steel behemoth plunge into the dark green pit, its buzzing roar urging him to give chase. They're trying to use the poison mist to weaken my troops… Shall I go in?
The answer should have been obvious. Charging into an enemy's tactical terrain was reckless. He had no pressing reason to engage these sorcerers, and entering the mist would cost him valuable Soldiers.
Outside of war, the Divine Lord gave no orders, leaving the Heroes free to act as they wished. Even so, they still patrolled territories, transported resources, and carried out missions to earn merit points that could be exchanged for soul fragments. This time, Demilo had set out simply to escort resources back to the capital.
He could have let these arrogant sorcerers be, or simply walked away. He could do whatever he pleased. And yet, he hesitated.
In the past thousand years, he had never faced a moment requiring personal judgment. During wars, the Divine Lord issued orders; in peaceful times, he ran the capital as usual. Facing an enemy legion could only ever end in either victory or retreat. As...
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