In a stable not far from outside the city, over two hundred warhorses were nervously pawing the ground, startled by the intense flashes that lit up the night.
Bloodstains speckled the stable fence, while scorch marks from electric shocks were evident on the ground and walls of the buildings.
Standing on these charred marks, Jeanne leaned on her battle flag and gazed into the distance.
That was exactly the direction of the Refugee Camp, and she could vaguely see flickering flames dancing, as if there were people shouting in unison.
Jeanne squinted with worry, uncertain about the situation on Horn's side.
After leading the refugees, Horn had given her a mission: to raid the armory and stables left behind by Duke Kush's grandfather.
Even though they had over ten thousand people, without enough arms and weapons, they would still be no match for the nearly two thousand troops in the city.
