Ansley Woster was befuddled. He was equally mad and disappointed at the King's decision which he had heard from the Royal Army. He knew what the King was up to, but he could never think doing such a thing was proper in times like this.
"To think that the King encouraged the princes to have a competition in this situation... Darn it! This is not acceptable," he muttered lowly to himself.
Looking at the injured soldiers of his County Army, who could only lie down helplessly on the grounds while the Priests and Healers healed them, he could only click his tongue bitterly.
Their fate was pretty much sealed; they had to fight until their body couldn't move any longer. They were all going to die, and it was for the sake of allowing the princes to have their competition.
"What a stupid way to die." Ansley smiled bitterly. Staring at the direction of Wisselton, the center of Woster County, he then sighed helplessly. "At least, I can die protecting them."
