"There must have been some mistake." The Director, drinking wine as usual, chuckled. "Those cultists could barely wield a musket, how come they obliterated our forces?"
Ars sat behind, on the couch as usual. The news had arrived to them late, roughly a month after the battle had begun. The casualties were so high that it was a miracle that they even had been informed of this.
"I've sent so many men… and this is the result? Not only have they stolen our precious technology, but they also butchered our elites…" The Director was looking out the window, talking to himself. His grip on the wine glass kept on tightening with the anger he felt.
