"It's already noon, why haven't they returned yet?"
Standing on the city wall, tiptoeing and peering towards the northwest, over a dozen city councilors and militia leaders anxiously awaited.
The wealthy merchants, dressed in silk robes and wearing tassel hats, nervously rubbed their canes, many of them with dark circles around their eyes.
Last night, despite objections, the Saintess forcibly led six hundred cavalry reinforcements on a night raid, leaving them sleepless.
At dawn, they stood on the city wall in the rain, ensuring they received the news as soon as possible.
Drizzling rain flowed down through the crevices of the stones, past wooden plaques, past the beaver's carved panels, and past white daisies struggling to peek over the wall edge.
Water dripped onto the ground, washing away the bloodstains from the cracks in the wall, but the air was no longer filled with the smell of blood.
