Count Angris watched Lynn's retreating figure and couldn't help shaking his head.
In this era, everyone shared the understanding that you didn't drive your enemies to their deaths in war. That was one of the reasons Angris had surrendered. Unlike a foreign tribe or another country, Lynn was one of their own.
When vital interests were at stake, they were bound to become enemies—but it depended on the circumstances.
The reason great families could last for generations was that they knew how to adapt.
Angris had lost, and there was nothing he could do about it. But he couldn't let those young fools die for nothing. As an elder of the Angris family, he could see clearly: the White Feather campaign, pushed by the emperor and the Goddess together, was nothing but needless overcomplication.
Amateurs meddling in a profession they didn't understand.
Sending people straight into the army and off to the battlefield without putting them through years of grueling training was utterly foolish. These young people had gotten a real taste of war's brutality, and now their eyes were vacant.
They hadn't felt it while they were fighting. But once it was over, they saw that people they knew had died horribly, and others had been wounded.
Forget it. At least this would teach those young fools how cruel war could be.
Lynn, on the other hand, was as inscrutable as ever. Angris acknowledged his talent, but the impression he'd left on everyone with his character and personality ran too deep. Even now, they couldn't bring themselves to admit they'd been beaten by that guy.
Lynn carefully surveyed the number of prisoners they'd taken this time. He'd hit the jackpot!
A whole bunch of nobles!
Unbelievable.
They'd all come to the battlefield. Was the Empire not worried about running