The second day at Malenpo camp.
The sky was just turning light. The bodies left from yesterday's battle lay strewn across the muddy ground, with blood already frozen into black and red ice crystals.
Count Dretta stood on a high ground, his gaze indifferent as it swept across the frontline.
The knight commanders beside him whispered among themselves, discussing today's offensive.
"They're still holding the third line of defense." Baron Marchelov unfolded the map, pointing lightly at the third line of defense, "Those Imperial Knights have finally agreed to move out."
Dretta nodded slightly. Though there was no hurry, it couldn't be that there was no urgency at all.
Otherwise, King Jiji might turn into King Haste and put pressure on Dretta.
It was those Imperial Knights who were quite proud and previously unwilling to participate in such "dirty" siege warfare.
Letting them shoot some arrows was already the best they could do.
