Three hours after the battle ended, Brian had the processed beast meat loaded onto the carriages, and the army continued marching forward.
Night fell. Velin watched the troops catch up; though their faces showed some fatigue, their spirits remained high.
"Greg."
Greg, who had been stealing a moment of leisure amid his work, immediately rose upon hearing his name. He came before Velin, thumped his chest in salute, and said, "My lord, your orders."
"We leave again tomorrow. Let the soldiers rest well tonight."
"Yes."
He stuffed the jerky in his hand into his mouth, took the helmet from a guard, and turned to relay the order.
When Brian approached, Velin walked over and looked at the dried bloodstains on his armor. "How did it go?"
Brian removed his helmet, a smile appearing on his face. "Not bad. Adrian killed a Gold professional from the local native church, making me the first noble in the Fifteenth Army to earn Battle Merit."
"Hahaha, well done. Get some rest while you can."
"Understood."
Watching Velin leave, Brian had a messenger relay the order for the troops to rest where they stood.
In the darkness, Velin stood at the edge of the cliff and watched ships draw close to the shore under cover of night. The flags flying above them bore the military emblem of the Ansa Kingdom.
"These people have some nerve. They really don't take me seriously."
"My lord, do you think it's possible that we already wiped out their scouts on the road as bandits?"
"That makes sense!"
Velin slapped his forehead, suddenly remembering that this country's army was pitifully weak. Judging them by the standards of the Bashio Kingdom's forces was making too much of them.
"Someone."
A Silver Intermediate Warrior stepped forward and respectfully said, "My lord, your