"82 Apprentices, 137 Adepts, 12 True Mages, around 200 warriors of varying strengths, and over 800 normal people."
A black-haired woman stood in a cave-like room with several other people. All of them wore ostentatious robes filled to the brim with Magic Circles.
Right now, she was looking at a blonde man who looked to be on the younger side. The blonde man kept his arms behind him to seem dignified, but his fists were clenched in rage and frustration.
"How do you explain these heavy losses, Duke Mithril?" the Head of the Council asked as she looked at him.
Duke Mithril, the blonde man, seemed cold on the outside, but a deep hatred and rage were rampaging inside of him.
He had just lost his home, a huge part of his wealth, and a large portion of his forces.
And now, after all of this, he still had to justify everything in front of the Council.
"I believe this has been a strike aimed specifically at me," Duke Mithril said coldly.
