General Lofey and General Hester stood far back from their camp, watching the smoking ashes with the stench of burnt flesh entering their nostrils from their dead comrades' corpse, including Lieutenant General Gerd Hollies' body.
"We burned them last night," General Lofey explained.
General Hester was silent and shook his head looking at the ashes. "Life is so short, eh? Who would have thought he'll die in this expedition?" Although everyone knew Sir Gerd was a pain in the butt, a headache with his endless complaints, not a skillful fighter but... he was still their comrade. But this was the reality for the men in the army.
"But I don't understand why did you come back right away? You didn't even let your men rest but flew here overnight," asked General Lofey.
General Hester's eyes narrowed. "Are you playing with me? It was your personal stamp on the message. Don't tell me..."
