"Defeated... truly, utterly defeated."
Yaxley paid no attention to the Death Eater clutching his collar. Beneath his lowered head was bitterness he could not conceal.
"That Mudblood called Albert Anderson is so formidable that we refuse to accept the cruel fact of our defeat." Yaxley muttered loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear. "We fell into the enemy's trap long before we set foot in this castle."
"Hey, Yaxley, pull yourself together!"
Even several slaps failed to snap Yaxley out of it. He still wore that utterly broken expression, filling the surrounding Death Eaters with deep unease.
There was no helping it. The situation was far from encouraging.
No, "far from encouraging" was no longer enough to describe it. It was simply a complete disaster.
The corridor carpeted with Dark wizard corpses, along with the faint sobbing that could still be heard, was the finest proof of their incompetence.
"What do we do now? Do we retreat directly?"
Several Death Eaters looked uneasily at Yaxley, waiting for him to make the final decision.
It was not that these newly joined Death Eaters trusted Yaxley all that much. They simply instinctively wanted to dump the blame on him.
What had happened earlier had already inflicted severe psychological trauma on the survivors.
No one wanted to lose their life for no reason.
Even less did they want such a miserable ending to befall them.
They should retreat, immediately, get out of this damned castle and away from this damned Wizarding War.
But no Death Eater dared to suggest retreating rashly.
Even though anyone who was not an idiot could see that they had already lost, and lost terribly at that.
Yet under the pressure Voldemort had placed on them all, no Death Eater dared bring up retreat. So the final choice was