After all, they'd been grinding away for so long.
The earlier battles hadn't cost the Pigman Race much, since they had so many people.
The five thousand men he'd brought were far too few. So even after losing a thousand in a day of fighting, he didn't think it was a big deal.
The Blood Ghosts and vampires had been fighting nonstop, so they hadn't tallied their casualties.
The succubi and Skyhawk People had lost a few hundred.
The enemy's Magic Team had been so powerful that they'd lost only a dozen or so.
Many of the vampire nobles were old nobility from before. They badly needed a victory, especially one against the heretic on the other side.
So Louis sent a wastrel, the Duke Randall Douglas.
He didn't go himself.
Though Randall was a wastrel, his ducal status meant that the blood he received was of relatively high purity.
That let the wastrel, who had only been Second Rank, begin advancing straight to Fourth Rank, then use the blood clan's unique method of advancement.
Absorbing noble bloodlines.
The elf slaves, along with the noble bloodlines that refused to submit, became nourishment, allowing him to reach Sixth Rank.
His ducal status and the actual concentration of his blood also gave him the power to suppress some of the more powerful vampire counts.
Louis had sent Randall because he clearly had no interest in negotiating.
The other side wouldn't lose face dealing with a duke, but this duke was a notorious wastrel, which gave the gesture a different meaning.
Randall had no qualms about it either. He was thrilled to receive the order.
A chance to earn merit!
And so the meeting began.
Randall rode across the ice, dressed in splendid noble finery and looking supremely self-important.
The central highland