The newly erected sentry posts had turned into pillars clung to by insect corpses.
Familiar knights howled as they fell into the thick fog, dragged away by insect legs.
He even saw that enormous insect corpse, composed of dozens of bodies and writhing like a centipede, crushing its way down the mountain pass, covered with the faces of knights from his territory.
Pale-faced, Pal turned to flee, even kicking away the knights blocking him, shrieking:
"Quick! Prepare the horses! I must leave! To Red Tide Territory for help, immediately! I have to personally... No, I am of the Calvin Clan's bloodline, I cannot die here... Hold them off!!"
In the chaos, he discarded his armor, mounted a horse with a dozen personal guards, and charged through the side valley behind the camp, abandoning the soldiers and officials still resisting.
In that moment, he had no time for "honor," "duty," or "command."
Only one thought remained: "Survive... I must survive... This calamity is beyond me."
