Whenever they flew over the fortress, their deep hum and oppressive presence always made the Mercenaries inside instinctively lower their heads, daring not to look up.
In contrast, whenever the fortress gates opened to reveal the "big shots" who once dominated the Dark Land—now stripped of their gear and herded in like livestock in a pathetic state—the faces of these Mercenaries, long accustomed to life as captives, would always twist with schadenfreude.
It had evidently become a rare source of amusement in their tedious lives as prisoners.
Seeing these once high-and-mighty figures meet the same fate, the pent-up frustration in their hearts didn't feel quite so unbearable anymore...
What was strange, however, was that the number of captives being escorted in this time seemed exceptionally large. The line waiting to enter the fortress stretched out so far that its end was out of sight.
