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墨書 Inktalez
Drinking Hercules' Milk, feeling a surge of power, John began to gather his troops, preparing to return to the camp. He was unsure how the battle had unfolded and progressed, but astonishingly, after enduring a fierce and brutal fight, his Third Legion had suffered almost no casualties. Before the conflict began, John had estimated that with ten thousand soldiers thrown into such a perilous situation, at least half would likely perish. Yet, when he finally took stock, he found that over seven thousand had survived!
However, upon seeing many unfamiliar faces among his ranks, he quickly understood the reason behind this unexpected outcome. Without a doubt, remnants from other legions had been hastily assembled together. John did not intend to make a fuss about this situation; after all, in his view, having more hands on deck was always beneficial. The warriors who had managed to survive such a harrowing slaughter would undoubtedly become elite troops after undergoing rigorous training.
Moreover, if he could recruit the Serf Soldiers who had unfortunately lost their noble masters in battle, then the troop losses incurred during this campaign could be effectively compensated. Thus, without hesitation, John led the remaining soldiers into the post-battle cleanup. They meticulously scoured every corner of the battlefield, leaving no valuable item unturned.
Whether it was the sturdy armor from fallen soldiers, various fine weapons scattered across the ground, or the somewhat tattered clothing of the Serf Soldiers, everything that could be salvaged was stripped away without a hint of waste.
At that moment, a figure slowly approached from an unknown direction. As he focused his gaze, he recognized Redman, who was struggling to move forward with the aid of a cane.
As Redman drew closer, John hurriedly stepped forward to lend a hand and asked with concern, "Brother, what happened? Are you feeling alright?"
Redman waved his hand dismissively and replied nonchalantly, "It's nothing serious; I just got nicked by an enemy Transcendent during the skirmish."
"Then why didn’t you drink a healing potion?" John asked wide-eyed with curiosity as he observed Redman's weary expression.
Redman shook his head slightly and sighed deeply before saying, "I thought I had taken some; I gave the remaining healing potions to my injured brothers instead. This battle was truly devastating! My soldiers suffered heavy losses—nearly half are gone! Even Poland almost lost his life; three of his fingers were severed by a vicious enemy." A look of pain crossed Redman's face as he spoke.
Hearing this made John's already heavy heart sink further. He slowly sat down on the ground, momentarily at a loss for words. After some time passed, he finally spoke in a low voice. "My situation isn't much better. I brought four hundred men into this fight, but now fewer than two hundred remain."
"Moreover," he continued with sorrowful eyes, "nine out of my ten personal guards have died, including the powerful Kaich and Tagore."
The thought of those brothers who had fought alongside him through thick and thin leaving this world forever felt like a knife cutting through John's heart. Kaich was no ordinary character; he possessed Transcendent abilities! They had appeared in John's ranks as Template Reward figures and were fiercely loyal to him. Yet even such excellent warriors could not escape the fate of death.
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