Before long, the people from the other ambush sites returned as well.
"They're all dead. No survivors."
The resistance soldiers reported back, their eyes filled with excitement and exhilaration.
Even Gwen was somewhat shocked.
Ambushing and killing a few cavalrymen was not particularly difficult, but killing them so cleanly and decisively that they could not even put up a ripple was beyond the resistance's expectations.
It was not as though they had never considered fighting back under Nora's leadership before, but they had struggled to achieve any results.
The cavalrymen wore breastplates—standard military armor bearing Count Bazel's crest—which could easily block arrows. Yet when the resistance removed them, the armor was riddled with horrifying bullet holes.
For the first time, they understood the muskets in their hands... those lightly fired bullets were even more powerful than the arrows of the most experienced hunters.
People returned one after another, and the excitement gradually spread throughout the camp. These refugees from the north had always been driven from place to place. Even with Nora among them, they had never possessed the ability to fight head-on.
They had been holding back their anger for a long time.
The road ahead had seemed bleak. Nora had died in battle, and they could only hide in these woods, barely surviving. The resistance had fallen into despair again and again.
But today was the first time they saw hope.
Even Gwen's eyes shone brightly. She kept telling herself to stay calm, but she could not suppress the smile on her face.
They had sunk in despair for far too long.
The resistance members looked at the muskets in their hands. All doubt had vanished from their eyes, and many of them gradually took on a fanatical expression.
"Miss Gwen? Ahem, Miss Gwen?"
Gwen hurriedly came back