White Crow City, a fortress city straddling the border between Green Field Province and Twilight Province, was also the main distribution hub for supplies in the south of the Okra Kingdom.
Since July, after White Crow City fell into the hands of the Eleventh Corps of the Right Army under the Second Corps, a battle worthy of being called a meat grinder had erupted here.
Over six months, in its attempts to retake the city, the Okra Kingdom had assembled more than five hundred thousand troops and launched thirty-five sieges, suffering over two hundred thousand casualties.
Corpses clogged the rivers, and blood stained the land crimson. Whether intelligent creatures or mindless beasts, all fled this place.
As the defenders, over the past one hundred and eighty days, the Eleventh Corps had suffered more than ten thousand casualties, while the two Aeran Legions assisting in the defense had lost over thirty percent of their strength.
The sky gradually brightened. It was time for another shift change.
After handing over his duties, a young Aeran walked to the city wall and looked toward the enemy camp in the distance.
Over the past half year, the company he belonged to had been reorganized three times. The familiar faces of fellow villagers around him had gradually been replaced by strangers from all corners of the land.
He stopped beside the battlements, resting most of his weight against them. His gaze fell upon the distance and did not move again.
He missed his mother, his father, and his lovely little sister.
At first, the higher-ups had said they only needed to hold out for three months. Later, it became four months, then five, and finally six.
Just yesterday, another rumor had spread through the camp that they would have to hold on for another three