Her Graceful War Song by Summer's Blaze

Chapter 71

A large hand picked up the fallen wine pouch.

The man twisted it open and sniffed the contents, and his eyes shone with delight. However, his words. were filled with anger.

"How dare you hoard fine wine in the military camp? This will be confiscated!"

With that, he turned and stormed off.

Carissa sat on the ground, rubbing her nose and blinked away tears. She could only vaguely see a tall figure darting back toward the command tent. "The marshal confiscated it," Bun said, stunned. Then, he sighed deeply. "Even a sip would have been fine. Why make such a fuss? Now it's gone."

Violet didn't expect Rafael to come by either, and chuckled. "Do you really think I just had one pouch when my bag is so huge?"

Bun and Travis hurried inside, singing Violet's praises. Then, they quickly drank another pouch of wine that Violet had stashed away.

-It was refreshing!

The call to arms for the second battle sounded, and the ground shook with the pounding of iron hooves, as if the earth itself were being torn apart.

Rafael ordered that the focus of this battle be on injuring the enemy rather than killing.

was puzzled. "If we can kill the enemy, why not? Injured enemies will

Rose Spear,

it?"

cut

her distinctive Rose Spear, Carissa quickly became a target. Over a hundred enemy soldiers

Carissa leapt into the air and vanished. The enemles, unable to adjust in time, ended up hitting their own comrades with

soldiers, her long whip moving like a swift serpent to snatch

she shouted, "Carissa, Goddess's

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in hand. She swung the Rose Spear with powerful, fluid motions, sending the spearheads flying into the enemy ranks. Each strike

looked at each other. Their

of the five of them, they decided to consolidate their efforts, moving as one to

seamless coordination-Bun with his knife, Travis with his sword,

was relentless; each strike of her Rose Spear drew blood. Her attacks either severed tendons or shattered leg

battle filled the air around Ilyrian City-horns of attack, cries of agony, and the clash of swords echoed throughout the surrounding wilderness. The sky was thick with a red haze of blood, and the only things visible were

joined the fight himself, wielding his golden blade with precision and effortlessly slicing through

injuries rather than to kill. He didn't use lethal force, not out of mercy, but because he knew that many wounded opponents would slow the enemy's