As the sun set in the west, its afterglow spilled across the blood-red earth. Combined with the severed limbs and mangled corpses strewn everywhere, it drove the atmosphere of terror to its peak.
The air itself was thick with the nauseating stench of blood.
The great battle had ended, the enemy forces had withdrawn, and the two armies successfully linked up on the battlefield.
"Honorable Duke Beckett, on behalf of the Moxi Duchy, I welcome your arrival. Today's resounding victory was all thanks to you..."
Rackel had long mastered such formulaic pleasantries. If not for his excessively bedraggled appearance, his performance at the moment would have been flawless.
"Your Excellency the Governor is too kind. The fact that you held off the enemy for so long means that you had already secured victory.
No matter how fierce the Underworld Races are, they are ultimately outsiders. The logistical pressure they must bear is far greater than ours.
As long as we drag things out for a while, their own logistics will wear them down.
The fighting spirit your nation's soldiers displayed in battle has already placed them among the continent's elite forces. Their future is boundless!"
It was the usual mutual flattery, but Duke Beckett was not merely talking nonsense. The Moxi Army had indeed performed quite well in this war.
The two exchanged compliments back and forth, and for a time, it seemed as though they had met kindred spirits too late.
But a pungent odor ruined the harmonious scene. Realizing something was wrong, Rackel hurriedly said:
"Your Excellency the Duke, I shall go wash up first, and later..."
In the end, Rackel swallowed the words "victory banquet." Augsburg was barely any different from ruins at the moment and simply lacked the means to host any celebration.
Forcing one through