"AARRGHHH!" Thrax shouted, while kicking the table standing innocently at the corner of the tent.
Looking at the current situation, everyone in the place knew the chances for the rebels to win their cause was now almost reaching the point of zero. It would still be hard to say whether they would win the fight, even if Thrax was able to revert to his optimal condition.
Julian approached calmly and grabbed Thrax's shoulders firmly, preventing him from destroying another piece of object.
"I am sorry, Thrax. But there will be no victory in this, My advice is to quickly head up north, I could somehow find a way to slip you all away, or convince them to let you go."
Unexpectedly, instead of Thrax, it was Klea who commented first. "Let you go? With that man, Pompey, present here? No! I don't think he will let you go."
