Martin followed behind, setting an apple The Faction in front of everyone. Then he treated the place like a Restaurant, found an empty seat, and took one serving after another for himself.
Apple The Factions piled up like a mountain in front of Martin. Nobody paid him any attention.
They were either listening to Annan say, "My requirement is that we kill large numbers of Ratfolk without suffering any casualties," or tasting the apple The Faction.
Cooked apples had a faint fermented tartness that paired with the sweet jam. Even the elves didn't mind taking a few bites.
"Impossible." Olmedo shook her head at Annan's demanding condition. "It's like how I've never asked you to make a fortune without making anyone jealous."
Magic Muskets couldn't kill Ratfolk from this height. Rangers were more useful than Musketeers, though dropping almost anything would crush the creatures. Magic Cannons and Mountain Copper Cannons would have looked splendid around Free City, but the Blacksmith Shop was already swamped and could still produce only so many.
A proper War Fortress relied on mages and Mage Towers. But the magic suppression still covered these mountains. Just because Floating City was unaffected didn't mean they were. Once Annan exhausted the Magic Vortex, all they would have left were those Magic Power potions.
"What if we crushed them with Floating City?"
Martin looked up, his face covered in crumbs as he chewed, and spoke through a mouthful of food.
"Waaaaaah—"
Someone cast Levitation on Martin and tossed him out the window.
Maid Abby calmly came over to clear Martin's place at the Dining Table.
Retreat?
Free City's war was over, but the war at the Northern Great Wall was still going on.
And leaving aside the terrible price everyone had paid and whether they could stomach retreating, countless