But the shift in tide that Jok had expected did not happen. Even as nearly fifty people died all at once, their comrades merely stepped over their corpses and continued the assault, continuing to apply pressure to the shield wall.
Beam watched over it, stone-faced. His two commanders at his side seemed similarly unmoved. Everyone seemed ummoved. It was a shocking level of morale, one that made Jok's smile falter.
Earlier in the day, Beam had been crushed by a single loss. Now he was able to remain straight-faced at fifty. His own mistake – that had cost him fifty lives. Fifty lives that he wouldn't get back, all because of his incompetence. That would have crushed his soul earlier, it would have crushed the souls of the villagers as well.
