Harald gave Leon a long look, nodded slightly, then said in a deep voice, "Leon has a point. Send the order: the entire army is to accelerate its return to Frosgard. As for Ulf, we will deal with the matter after the truth has been uncovered."
The army continued its northward retreat, but the atmosphere had changed completely.
They had managed to plunder some things, barely restoring a breath of life to their dying body. But the destruction of Ulf and the entire Sparrow Corps was like having the hardest finger forcibly broken off—and in such a humiliating manner.
That mouthful of blood could not soothe the pain of the severed finger. All things considered, they had still come out at a loss—and a devastating one.
During a rest along the way, Svein rode over to the silent Harald, trying to comfort his elder brother and sovereign, whose heart was heavy with worries.
"Brother, actually... if you look on the bright side, Ulf's death may not be entirely a bad thing." Svein chose his words carefully. "Last time beneath Carnford City, it was he who led the Sparrow Corps in retreat first, throwing our army formation into chaos and ultimately causing our crushing defeat. That man was arrogant and unruly, long beyond discipline—a tail too large for the dog to wag. Now that he has died in battle, it could be said that... one hidden danger has been removed."
Harald did not answer at once. Silently, he took a flat paper box from the leather pouch at his waist and opened it. Inside were several finger-thick objects neatly rolled in white paper—cigarettes.
No one knew when this thing had quietly become popular among the Sauron upper ranks and some of the soldiers. Many Corps Commanders even went so far as