Fighting a war is indeed much like a tug-of-war.
A victor can be determined in a mere instant, when one side weakens momentarily and allows the opponent the opportunity to seize control, pulling them step by step into the abyss of defeat.
Upon witnessing the situation on the opposing bank, Marquis Dawson of the North Territory had blood in his eyes.
He could hardly believe that his army of thirty to forty thousand elite soldiers on the South Bank of Ben Liu River was unable to withstand the onslaught of the Golden Lion Legion for even half a day.
The formation of the Dwarf Legion at this point was in complete disarray, with the Golden Lion Legion cutting into their ranks like sharp knives, severing and dissecting them bit by bit.
Therefore, though the actual casualties of the dwarves were not heavy, they had already lost any hope for a reversal of fortunes.
