The night finally calmed down, but it didn't calm down in a gentle way. But there was still tension in the air and the people were still obviously shaken because of the sudden attack.
Outside the west wall, the snow had been trampled into ugly, muddy slush.
Broken arrows were scattered everywhere, half buried in red-stained snow, like someone had thrown toothpicks into a bowl of soup and expected it to look appetizing.
A few masked bodies lay on the ground, twisted at uncomfortable angles. Their ugly masks made them look even more pitiful, because now they couldn't even die with dignity.
It was actually ridiculous that even the surrounding beastmen could not help but curse at them while still feeling sorry for them.
These men had come in the middle of winter, covering their faces like cowardly thieves, acting like they were about to take over the world.
In the end, they couldn't even take a single fence post.
