"Hm? After wiping out the main force of our army, the enemy did not gather their troops for an attack. Instead, they retreated southwest?"
In the rainforest, Gromas raised his brows in surprise as he listened to the hurried report from the Darkthorn Regiment.
But when he recalled the towering flames and violent explosions from another battlefield moments ago, Gromas instantly concluded that the Imperial forces had likely exhausted all their military resources in that ambush.
Coupled with nearly a day and night of fighting the Allied Forces and fleeing afterward, the enemy was clearly at its limit. If they fought a decisive battle against his own forces, which remained in good condition, their chances of victory would certainly be less than one in ten.
Under such circumstances, it was only natural for John Maslow, as the commander, to choose to avoid battle.
Although Gromas knew there were far too many suspicious aspects to Motas leading the main force of the Bloodhowl Legion into a trap and being wiped out, the matter had already happened. There was no point dwelling on where things had gone wrong.
What mattered most to Gromas now was quickly determining the enemy's next move and objective.
"So why the southwest? Under normal circumstances, shouldn't the enemy be circling northwest to retreat?"
After all, aside from the seaside cliffs, there was no terrain in the southwest that the enemy could make use of.
From his current position, he could lead the Bloodhowl Legion northwest, cutting off the enemy's path of escape to the north. Then, coordinating with the Allied Forces currently trapped in the south by numerous traps as they advanced northward, they could complete the final encirclement.
At that point, no matter how capable John Maslow was, there would be no way he could lead