In the Cold Weapon Era, no army could turn defeat into victory once it had fallen into rout.
Thus, not long after the horn sounded for the full army to attack, the general who had nearly been hacked to death by his own routed soldiers became a prisoner and was brought before Allen.
Although he had once tried to kill himself to preserve his dignity.
Before the Claymore Warrior's superhuman speed, however, the blade slipped from his hand before it could even cut his skin.
Seeing the man's disheveled state, as well as the anger and defiance in his eyes, Allen smiled indifferently and asked, "What? Are you dissatisfied with today's defeat?"
"No! I admire the tremendous strength and strict discipline displayed by the soldiers and enhanced warriors under your command. To be honest, as a general, being defeated by such an elite force leaves me with no resentment at all. On the contrary, I feel honored. What truly dissatisfies and disappoints me is the soldiers under my command. They had no sense of a soldier's duty or pride. They actually raised their swords against their comrades and superiors just to escape. If I return alive, I will drag out every one of those shameful deserters and execute them in public."
As he spoke, the elderly general's tone was filled with naked, undisguised fury.
The blood staining his body and the numerous dents in his armor made it clear that he had nearly died at the hands of deserters several times.
"You resent those soldiers for not staying behind with you to die gloriously?"
Allen had clearly seen through the man's thoughts, and his expression suddenly turned strange.
The captured general nodded forcefully. "That's right! In my opinion, from the moment a soldier steps onto the battlefield, he must be