( Meanwhile, the WhiteSaber guild, The Western Duchy)
The spacious command tent of the Whitesaber guild was a flurry of activity, but none of the commotion seemed to enter the guild master's ears who was lost studying the war map.
Seated at the center of the room, his piercing gaze was fixed on the massive paper map sprawled across the table, however, judging by his expression and how his lips were pressed into a thin line, one could easily establish that he did not appreciate what he saw before him.
Every red marker on the map—representing the guild's planned conquests—seemed to mock him, reminding him of the sharp divergence between ambition and reality.
'This is bad…. Everytime I send my men to fight, it bites me back spectacularly' The guildmaster thought, as he clicked his tongue in disgust.
