"What kind of monster is that? It's immune from blades and fire!"
"We're currently trying to use freezing magic, but it can only delay it for a bit..."
"More than half of the Third Platoon has been wiped out, we need support!"
"Contact with the Seventh Platoon has been lost, send someone to check the situation immediately!"
"The left flank's barrage is too thin, what are those guys doing?!"
"The rifle team has reported that their barrels are overheating, they can't maintain high density fire!"
Bad news piled on one after another. At the makeshift command post outdoors, men in uniforms stood in a line, their brows furrowed. At the other end of the long table, Wolsingham, usually astute and composed, looked haggard. His already unhealthy complexion was further marred by a layer of leaden pallor, his stern face reflecting raw anxiety and frustration.
