Chapter 1370

It wasn't until that moment that Yuvan fully realized the extent of his defeat.

His lips trembled, and his legs gave way as he collapsed to the ground. Panic and fear surged within him. He thought of the tragic fates of past traitors who tried to rebel, and was struck with a deep, bone-chilling coldness.

He had considered the consequences of failure before, but he always thought that if he failed, he would just face death bravely. At worst, he would end his own life to avoid further suffering.

But now, locked in a cold, iron-barred cell with no weapons in hand, he realized how grim things had become. The walls were strong, but he might not die right away even if he charged headfirst into them. There were guards outside the cell. If he didn't die, he might suffer even more than this.

However, it wasn't the fear of torture that pierced Yuvan the most-it was his unwillingness to accept this fate.

How had come to this? Even in defeat, he should've had a group of loyal men to stand by him. He had a group of men with him now, but it was clear none of them shared the same purpose. They weren't united in heart, and that realization dug into him like a knife.

His gaze turned to the two men beside him. His voice trembled, though it carried an edge of bitter laughter.

"You two betrayed me, and what good has it done you? Have you found any favor in your new alliance? Will Nicholas come to your rescue?"

Wayne. Desperation flooded his voice as he gripped Wayne's sleeve. "What's happening outside? Will anyone come to save us? Please tell me! I'd rather know the

before reaching the city. We've been trapped here for half a month, and news has

happened? No wonder they surrounded the city without attacking-they were waiting for General Murray to arrive! How did we

"It's too late to say anything. A victor is a king, and the defeated are just men waiting

anguish. "I don't want to die! I just want to live with some dignity-just not be sent to that

me

only sounds echoing through the prison were Harvey's cries

to Ebonflow, the Capital Army had taken control of the relay stations. Along the way, skilled men intercepted the carrier

was forced to retreat, he sent out a pigeon

for him, the carrier pigeon didn't get far before it was shot down

of

rain washed

ground, which flowed together to form a faintly red stream. Clifford's army didn't have time to tend to the fallen soldiers and fled westward, in the opposite direction

could, or at least hold his ground. But he chose not to

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