The boundless grassland resembled an enormous green carpet woven by nature, while the wind herded white clouds across the clear blue sky.
The land was green everywhere. Yurts like white mushrooms dotted the carpet of grass, standing out vividly. Herds of goats ran ceaselessly, their snowy fleece like clouds fallen from the sky, leaving trails through the grassland.
Sunlight washed over the endless emerald grassland as though coating it in gold dust, and the morning breeze stirred waves of green and gold. Wildflowers of every color bloomed in scattered clumps and patches, basking in the sunlight and vying for beauty across the vast plain. Their rich fragrance filled the air. From afar, they looked like multicolored clouds drifting down onto the green grassland.
Atop a small rise, Rex stood at the very front with the Ashbringer in hand, neatly ordered ranks of soldiers behind him.
Their formation was orderly, their armor gleaming in the sunlight. With weapons in hand, they stood between earth and sky like guardian deities.
From a distance, the army looked imposing and formidable.
Compared with Rex's force, the Hauge Tribe's army looked more than ten times worse.
The Hauge Tribe's troops had no uniform clothing at all. They wore all manner of things, though most had garments made from animal hides wrapped around their vital parts.
Their weapons were an even greater jumble. They carried every conceivable kind, and many wielded wooden weapons rather than iron ones.
These were nothing more than sticks sharpened at one end to serve as spears.
Side by side, the Hauge Tribe's army looked as wretched as could be.
Judging the two armies by appearance alone, their relative strength was obvious. Naturally, the Arathi Tribe's army was stronger, while the Hauge Tribe's was weaker.
It was the difference between regular troops