On the south bank of the great river, the expansive camp stretched over the dangerous hills. Inside the central army tent, Duke Ablo concealed his irritation as he exchanged a few words with the envoy from the Eastern nobles, then summoned a subordinate to escort him out of the tent.
"...Send someone to keep an eye on them. Don't let him spread rumors about wandering souls and dark clouds among the troops. If it disrupts morale, handle it according to military law," Ablo ordered his trusted guard beside him.
After speaking, he resumed his contemplation on military deployments.
Border aid request?
Undead calamity?
Regardless of whether it's nonsense... even if the sky were to fall in the east right now, he must first drive back the Northern army.
Ablo understood that if he did not take a gamble while the Urian army was still present, once these nomadic people returned to the plains, it would be difficult to seize another opportunity to invade the King's Domain.
