Brando understood that the inner-court knight named Trevor was talking about events that had happened a day earlier. After leaving Valgas, they had headed north along the Silver Spring River, and north of Leafy Avenue they had come upon a battlefield left behind by a fierce battle. The two sides had clearly been the private armies of the empire's nobles and Jorgendigon's subterranean creatures. The battlefield stretching across the long riverbank and the forest road was littered with the corpses of humans, Earth Dragons, griffins, Cave Dwellers, and Harpies. The blood covering the wilderness had frozen solid in the bone-chilling winter cold long ago, staining the cobblestones a deep crimson. The nobles of Cruz recognized quite a few familiar faces among the piles of corpses—Sir Moore was one of them. A bone arrow had pierced his throat, leaving him sprawled on his back across the battlefield, one among countless cold corpses.
A scene like this usually represented a crushing defeat for the empire. For the sake of their honor, the nobles of Cruz would not readily abandon their comrades' corpses. With even the nobles' bodies left unattended, it was easy to imagine Count Orcons and his men trampling through the icy river water as they fled north.
As for Jorgendigon, the subterranean creatures rarely cleaned up the corpses on a battlefield—unless they were short on food. Diseases had even less effect on them.
"Brando, they seem to be planning to sneak into the town." Roman suddenly reminded him in a low voice. The Merchant's Daughter's eyes glittered in the dusk, like a cat's eyes in dim light.
Brando noticed it as well. He immediately said to Rogers, "Sir Knight, do you have any way to contact them?"
Rogers thought for a moment. "I know a signal used by the local