Nostria was under a solemn defeat. Their heads hung down for the loss of those who successfully defended the kingdom with their lives on the line. As much as they wanted to blame someone, it was a part of their job, the responsibility they had taken when they wore the armor and raised their blades for the flag that fluttered on top of the palace.
"The Mist Clan has arrived.... too late, huh," Reka solemnly muttered as she watched the aftermath of the battle. She took a deep breath the moment she saw the corpses of valiant young soldiers on the path where she walked past them. She couldn't believe it but what she saw was real. Nostria might have lost two of its towers and none of their public establishments, nor innocent civilians, but they had lost young brave souls.
Reka took a deep sigh before she approached the queen of the kingdom. "We have arrived too late, apologies."
