At that moment, the atmosphere inside the Barbarians' Main Camp, especially in Great Chieftain Heshima's tent, was deeply awkward.
After all, today's battle had not only failed to achieve the intended results, but had also inflicted particularly heavy losses.
Of the two Commanders of Ten Thousand, the one who had led his troops in an attempt to enter the fortress had died under baffling circumstances. Even now, no one knew exactly how he and his men had been defeated.
Heshima's expression was grim. Both dead Commanders of Ten Thousand had been his trusted subordinates, and he had also been the driving force behind sending the second commander into battle. Now that the attack had failed, he bore the greatest responsibility.
Seeing the great chieftain's expression, the others naturally did not dare interject, afraid of displeasing him. If they became the target of Heshima's vented fury over this, their luck would be truly rotten.
But when everyone fell silent, Heshima grew even angrier. To him, it meant that everyone present believed it was his fault.
Heshima, however, believed that everyone had agreed to the decision to fight today. Even if it had been a mistake, they were all at fault.
Besides, by any reasonable measure, their preparations had been quite thorough. They had not only brought large numbers of cannon-fodder troops, but also enforcement squads and archers mixed into their ranks, along with a great many siege engines. Yet the battle had still turned into this utter mess.
This made Heshima waver despite himself, leaving him somewhat unsure whether the war he had launched could end in victory.
But Heshima immediately cast that thought aside. He could not fail, nor would he permit himself to fail.
If they truly lost, the consequences of this war for him and the Iron Bone