"The troops retreating from the front have completely collapsed, their morale shattered, and the officers simply refuse to fight,"
said the old sergeant, shaking his head as he recounted the terrible rumors he had heard from the soldiers who had withdrawn from the vanguard.
Various cunning traps, sudden explosions, villages reduced to ashes, and wells either sealed or poisoned. Long-range attack magic fired from unknown locations, specifically targeting messengers and officers. Sometimes they would deliberately miss vital points, just to shoot down those who rushed to help one after another.
As they continued to succeed, the aggressors' boldness grew, and they chose any time they pleased to strike.
Camping, eating, going to the bathroom, sleeping - any moment they let their guard down, some unlucky bastard's head would suddenly burst open, splattering blood and brains onto the closest person.
