Two more days have passed. Two more days without contact with your army. But you trust Darin's abilities. You do not fear that he has blundered.
Instead, you fear whether you have blundered.
Sore and tired, you and your men drag yourselves out of the swamp. Finally, you can see the sun again, low on the horizon. Soon, it will set once more.
Your soldiers unload their equipment. Your own bag is slung over one shoulder. The feeling of solid ground beneath your feet is heavenly. No more muddy waters or soil that breathes.
Yet still, none of you are in any shape to fight.
You gesture out toward the thinning forest and order, "We push a little farther. Find somewhere to make camp. We attack at dawn."
The exhausted soldiers reply in the affirmative.
Obren limps up beside you. With a hand clutching his hip, he says quietly, "We'd best hope they're ready by morning. I can barely walk."
As the two of you speak, your men begin to march into the forest. Unlike the jungle, the forest here is Kantonian. Temperate, without the crushing heat and humidity. But it's still summer, and it is regularly rained upon.
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