It was morning. The clouds were bright, and the sun had already risen into the sky.
Tension rose steadily at the border of Blackstone village.
The army of Kellan Blackstone, numbering over one hundred, each soldier armored and armed with sharp weapons, could be clearly seen.
They looked fierce and gallant.
They looked ready to conquer, which seemed very different from the enemies they were up against.
Not too far away from them stood just three horses, with three men mounted on them.
For a moment, silence was maintained. But it was soon shattered when some of the Blackstone soldiers began to laugh in mockery.
"Somebody tell me this is a dream. Just three men, led by a scrawny brat against our Lord Kellan and his knight?"
"This is hilarious. I at least expected a dozen or so."
"What were we even expecting? Their village population is not even up to our army population, and the last time I went, there were only old people and children."
