I had always thought it was a limitation of the game, but now it seemed that this was the restraint imposed by face and rules.
After the two of them had listed every fault of the other like a pair of shrews, then repeated the whole tirade twice more, the nobles were genuinely exhausted.
Supported by their attendants, they returned to their respective camps, delivered some final harsh words, and agreed to begin the fight tomorrow afternoon.
Other than wars between nations, no matter how much the two sides hated each other—even if they bit their teeth bloody—the so-called rules had to be followed.
Thus, under the watchful eyes of their enemies, they began setting up camp that evening. No one came to launch a sneak attack, and the area around this battlefield, where a great battle was supposedly about to take place, was truly buzzing with people.
There were not only the merchants, mercenaries, caravans, slave traders, and bounty hunters they had brought from the baron's territory...
There were now opportunists from the viscount's territory as well. The two groups easily mingled together, and before long they had created a small marketplace here.
The soldiers on both sides had evidently grown tired of their own caravans. They exchanged entertainment venues without so much as a word, and it looked perfectly natural.
Even though they might be fighting each other to the death tomorrow, as long as they did not have a personal blood feud, they remained restrained when they met in this "market."
After all, whether they were hired mercenaries and caravan guards, soldiers brought by the nobles themselves, or even knights, they were all workers when it came down to it.
They could neither decide whether this war should happen nor determine its course. They were like pieces