Annan had the warden summon the Prisoners, then led Grand Marshal Garkin into the camp.
The Villain Legion numbered exactly nine hundred: three at Master Level, one hundred and forty-three Elites, one hundred and two Professionals, and the rest ordinary people.
Most of the Elites and Professionals had come from High Mountain City's dungeon.
They weren't enough to take on Nana, but they could handle small groups of demons with ease.
Grand Marshal Garkin had another reason for coming. A suicide squad made up of villains and Prisoners hardly warranted a personal visit. He mainly wanted to see what the boy who had gotten the better of his cousin looked like.
Aside from being younger than expected, there seemed to be nothing special about him...
As Grand Marshal Garkin sized up Annan, Annan sized him up in turn.
Their resemblance was proof enough of their blood ties. That was how nobles worked: marrying within their circles to expand their families' influence while preserving their bloodlines.
By the time Annan and Grand Marshal Garkin reached the clearing, the Prisoners had been assembled.
They stood about listlessly beneath the sunlight, which grew dimmer as the demons drew nearer.
"Just look at this ragtag army you've brought..."
Grand Marshal Garkin swept his gaze over the prisoners in the front row. Some chatted with their companions, some wore shoes with their toes poking through, and one scratched his backside before sniffing his hand. His displeasure spilled over.
Whatever else happened, Annan refused to back down. "Don't mock people willing to risk their lives defending their homes."
The Prisoners quietly straightened their backs.
"...I take back what I said." Garkin let out a heavy breath. Knowing when to admit a mistake was one way he surpassed his cousin. "But your cavalry is too weak. I'd