Meshal had been suffering from a terrible headache these past few days.
First, rebel squads inside Soul Severing City had wantonly slaughtered lower- and middle-ranking nobles, then beheaded them and hung their heads above doorways as warnings and intimidation.
It had to be said: if they could set aside their opposing positions, Alvin's move of striking at the root was undeniably brilliant—and downright sinister.
Make no mistake: in a city like Commorragh, "sinister" was a compliment.
After all, all Alvin could rely on was the dregs of a few districts—those half-breeds,
slaves, and xenos.
But what did they have?
The finest equipment, well-trained and powerful True Born warriors, and ample, fully organized logistical support.
And yet, despite all that, what should have been a one-sided crushing victory had been turned around by Alvin, who'd found an opening and staged an incredible comeback!
Beautiful! Brilliant!
Even though he wanted nothing more than to tear Alvin apart with his bare hands, Meshal couldn't help but admire the human.
With just a few words, he could stir up the winds of change and set all of Commorragh seething beneath the surface. He was practically born to be... Tzeentch!
Meshal stared at the tactical holomap with bloodshot eyes. He hadn't slept in days.
The annihilation of the Anvil Heavy Group army had dealt a tremendous blow to morale, but there was an even more serious problem.
The rebels had seized a huge quantity of heavy weapons, vehicles, armor, and more. They were no longer the same rebels who could be manhandled at will and offered no resistance!
Considering that the rebels excelled at infiltration and encirclement tactics, and now had a great deal of heavy equipment and supplies,
Meshal had ultimately been forced to make a choice. He'd ordered all units to maintain formation,