Inside the jungle, within the slowly advancing Bloodhowl Legion.
Crack!
Motas Bloodwolf, a lieutenant general of the Bloodhowl Legion and the commander of its true main force, wore a gloomy, irritated expression. He even felt the urge to directly defy Gromas's orders, take the main force away from him, and personally hunt down and deal with those damned Empire troops.
After all, during the hour since their side had clashed with those Empire troops that swarmed like insects, Gromas's order to advance in a tight formation had left them doing nothing but retaliating whenever they were attacked. Not a single unit had been sent to encircle and wipe out those hateful enemies who kept launching guerrilla raids against them.
They could only move like a herd of livestock, allowing those Imperial bastards to harass them through one jungle ambush after another.
Under such passive orders of taking hits without fighting back, their troops had already suffered a full three thousand casualties.
If they continued following Gromas's so-called order to advance in formation, then in another ten hours at most, the main force under his command would be slaughtered by this endless harassment and jungle guerrilla warfare.
Because of this, he had protested to Gromas more than once and requested permission to personally lead the main force in pursuit of those damned Imperial flies.
Yet Gromas had rejected his request to lead an expedition, claiming that this was an enemy trap intended to make them split their forces so they could be defeated one by one.
But in Motas's eyes, that excuse was nothing more than a perfunctory lie Gromas had made up to wear down the main force in his hands.
After all, ever since this jungle guerrilla battle had begun, Gromas's personal guard and the troops directly under Nils's