A few minutes before the attack on the Blue Mountain Army's camp, Markelle was inside his tent, making his own preparations for the departure the next day.
He pulled out the sword strapped on his back and cleaned its blade with a cloth. This weapon has been with him since he started his journey as a martial practitioner. It was his most treasured possession. "Tomorrow, I will let you drink the enemy's blood." He muttered in a chilling voice.
His sword was somewhat special. It has the strange ability to suck blood and the more blood it consumed, the stronger it becomes.
Suddenly, Markelle sensed something unusual. He stood up and glanced in a certain direction with his eyebrows furrowed.
"Enemy attack!"
He heard his soldiers shouting in alarm.
By the time he stepped out of his tent, he saw his troops' tents catching fire. He was momentarily surprised. He didn't expect that the enemies would take the initiative to attack them.
