Bagath nodded. His tone nonchalant, he said, "Just some reserve food. Since we are out of food, go and choose half of the humans to serve as a meal. The remaining half will be tomorrow night's dinner."
With only one good eye, the Troll's face lit up upon hearing Bagath's instructions. "Alright, I'll go pick some out right now."
Once he finished speaking, he grabbed his Wolf Fang Club and left the tent right away.
...
In a corner of the campsite...
There was a tent composed of ragtag items and pieces of Beast Skin.
It looked less like a tent and more like a storage shed for miscellaneous objects piled up on the edge of the camp.
Within the small warehouse-like space were more than a hundred humans, cramped together.
The humans were dressed in tattered clothes, their bodies greasy and their faces drawn with exhaustion.
In the center stood a man- not distinguished by his clothes, but by the steely glint in his eyes. A look that refused to surrender.
