Mason made it clear to everyone, "I need volunteers."
As Mason's gaze swept over them, the Revodan militia lowered their heads. Having barely escaped with their lives, none were willing to risk themselves again.
"Your Excellency, I can no longer ride a horse or wield a sword," Old Priskin, dragging his grandson forward, approached Mason, "Let him go with you."
"Count him in."
After a fierce internal struggle, Ivan also raised his hand.
...
The sound of horns filled the sky, and the silhouettes of the cavalry leapt at the edge of vision—the people of Terdun began their march.
Like a shepherd separating a mixed flock of sheep, the nobles of Terdun each led their followers down the hillside, slowly closing in on the people of Iron Peak County.
Gazing at the barbarians scattered across the hillside, [Monkey] and Doug, stationed on the left flank of the line, had dry mouths and icy hands and feet, their temples throbbing.
