In a daze, the Military Governor seemed to hear the sound of pigeons cooing amidst the commotion and shouts, even the pale faces of ghouls burning with a crimson rage.
"Damn it, what good are they!"
The reinforcements that haven't arrived aren't reinforcements; the benefits not in hand sure aren't benefits!
By the time they arrived, my corpse would have long gone cold!
"Otherwise... let's retreat."
His adjutant suggested tremblingly but hadn't finished when the Military Governor turned his head abruptly, his scarlet eyes fixating fiercely on him. Until that face started convulsing in terror, the Military Governor coldly said, "We're missing a squad of supervisors at the front, you go."
The adjutant dared not disobey; he drew his sword and rushed forward with reinforcements, never to return.
For a moment, the tent was plunged into dead silence.
No one dared to speak.
No one dared to speak of retreat or surrender again.
