Everything in Place (Taking the 13th Off)

The darkness before dawn still hung heavily over the land, like a thick black curtain tightly wrapping the entire world.

But amid that blackness, Victor could see a bright spot from afar as he sat on horseback—the Southern Marching Legion's temporary camp outside Blackwater City.

From a distance, the camp blazed with lights. Tents, bonfires, and torches reflected one another, forming a splendid, colorful scene.

The camp was filled with voices and noise, a constant clamor that stood in stark contrast to the silence of the night.

Victor galloped over and finally reached the outskirts of the camp. He pulled on the reins, bringing his horse to a slow stop.

At that moment, the camp gate was a chaotic mess. Crowds surged back and forth, and all kinds of voices blended together, impossible to distinguish.

The soldiers guarding the gate were doing their utmost to maintain order, but faced with such an enormous flow of people, they seemed somewhat overwhelmed.

Victor frowned at the sight. He immediately waved for the people behind him to halt, then tightened his reins to stop his steed.

Perhaps because Victor and his group were all mounted on tall, imposing warhorses, they were especially eye-catching. Or perhaps it was because they were standing directly in front of the gate, making them simply too conspicuous.

In any case, the gate guards quickly noticed this conspicuous group.

At that moment, however, a large number of mules and horses were continuously entering the camp.

These mules and horses were small but sturdy, clearly laborers specially used to haul heavy loads.

Having lived alongside humans for so long and frightened by the conditions of war, the mules and horses instinctively moved aside when they saw the mounts of Victor's group, not daring to come near.

This made Victor's group