A sharp dagger scratched marks into an inconspicuous corner of the room.
For the thirty-second time, Xie De carved words into a wall.
He recorded their marching route and a few of his thoughts on the current situation. He carved the words very small, unsure whether any future players would discover this clue, or whether it would be of any use at all.
The situation changed by the instant. According to the scouts, the old king was gravely ill and on the brink of death. Political factions were springing up everywhere, and the armed forces holding their own territories were deeply entrenched.
Their army, too, seemed to be following the course of history. Bearded Man's speeches had established their political direction, stirring many young people into enlisting while also drawing all kinds of opinions. Some called them heroes; others called them nothing but rebels.
But whatever people said, under the demon's protection, this army had gone from being dismissed at the outset to a force that could no longer be underestimated. They had even begun to be called saviors.
Of course, in troubled times, they were not the only saviors.
The commanders of the other emerging military forces were also proclaiming their legitimacy and presenting themselves as saviors.
When these factions collided, war and struggles for control followed.
Today, their objective was to capture an important port city. Its extensive transport links made it easy to bring in supplies from other countries or sell goods abroad.
Xie De was not remotely surprised when Bearded Man handed overall command to him again.
This was his second month here, and he had already commanded no fewer than thirty battles. On one particularly unfortunate day, he had commanded five. All that commanding had made his already sour expression even sourer, and hostility poured