Night fell, and scattered campfires sprang up throughout the camp. From a distance, they almost seemed to merge with the stars above.
The camp quieted down. Only then could they hear faint shouts from the west, where the army was directing the civilian laborers to build various defensive fortifications.
Donald sat in the open space in front of his tent. The summer monsoon blew in from the south, washing over his face. The air was filled with the unpleasant stench of manure and sweat peculiar to an army.
A figure approached from the direction of the Teaching Camp.
"Donald, why aren't you asleep yet?"
"Professor Victor. It's too hot in the tent, so I came out for some air," Donald replied.
"This godforsaken place is no place for a person to live." Victor sat down beside Donald. Hearing such a complaint from someone as famously slovenly as him showed just how awful the camp conditions really were.
"Have you ever fought in a war?" Donald asked.
"No... Between pursuing truth and conquering territory, only fools are more interested in the latter." Victor clearly considered himself a wise man.
"Maybe truth is too elusive. Only land and wealth can give people a sense of security," Donald said with a smile.
"Foolish humans." Without realizing it, Victor had included both Donald and himself in his insult.
"Why hasn't the enemy attacked yet?" Donald changed the subject, lest Victor launch into another strange observation.
"They're apparently still gathering their forces. It won't be long now. They should be done in three days at most."
"What about us? Are reinforcements coming?" Donald asked.
"The private troops of three more Dukes are on their way. They're dragging their feet on purpose, but they'll arrive within two days at the latest."
"Wouldn't that make over a