Her Majestic Battle Cry

Chapter 1317

Alec arrived to report the casualties from the first battle: 356 dead, and 1,732 injured.

The mood among the officers immediately plunged back to the freezing point.

They had been tasked with defending the city, with archers stationed on the walls. But even with their defensive advantage, the Sandorians had managed to deploy their siege ladders and hurl stones, causing so much loss of life and injury.

This wasn’t even a full–scale siege–the Sandorians were simply testing their strength and the teamwork of the Southern Frontier Army.

It was clear that the Sandorians understood the situation. They weren’t rushing to deploy their full forces. Instead, they were playing a psychological game, careful not to provoke a decisive battle just yet.

The Southern Frontier Army, despite their diminished morale, would fight fiercely once their lives were at stake

But if these probing attacks continued, the casualties would steadily rise. Ultimately, the psychological toll would break the Southern Frontier Army’s will to fight.

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At this point, discussing battle strategies seemed pointless. Everyone’s spirits were so low that they couldn’t muster the strength to even consider another fight. It would be a futile sacrifice.

The military advisors had smoked nearly an entire pouch of dry tobacco, their minds unable to come up with a new plan. Even if the court decided to send reinforcements, it wasn’t clear who would be chosen.

For now, they just had to deal with the situation.

“Gather the soldiers tomorrow. We need to write a speech to rally their spirits. We can’t let this go on any longer,” one of the military advisors suggested.

Timothy rubbed his face with both hands, wiping off a layer of dust mixed with dried blood. It wasn’t his blood, but the blood of a soldier who had been standing beside him, struck in the head by a stone from a trebuchet. The blood had splattered across his face.

was feeling especially terrible

is gone, and no one has been ordered to take his place. Everyone believes the Hell Monarch has been killed. Unless he appears on the battlefield in the Southern Frontier, the morale of the troops will continue to falter, and their hatred of

Alec’s pipe, inspecting it for a moment

“is the collapse of morale after Mr. Prince escaped. The soldiers no longer believe victory is possible. To them, stepping into battle now is just walking to their deaths. If the Sandorians keep up these smaller–scale assaults, our troops‘ morale will be crushed completely. Soon, the Southern Frontier will fall into

his hesitation evident.

looked up, fury in his eyes. “Don’t ask. If His

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Chapter 1317

calm the troops. But there’s

should be so pessimistic. His Majesty can’t possibly

optimistic. Although they were far from the Southern Frontier, they understood

trusted anyone–not even Jeremiah, whom he had once tried desperately to keep in the court. Over the years, he had systematically undermined the power

in the council, to maintain the illusion of control

the Hell Monarch

was so dense that it seemed to stretch endlessly,

closer inspection, the difference

their eyes sharp and their voices thundering, now there was no fire in their hearts. Their eyes were

along the gaps between the ranks. He spoke passionately of the Southern Frontier Army’s past victories, of how they would utterly

was hoarse, but the cheers he had once stirred up were nowhere to be heard. Instead, there were only a few scattered, lackluster shouts, lacking any

by frustration. His eyes blazed with anger. He swiftly mounted his horse and shouted, “Pull yourselves together! What’s this pitiful display?

his voice rang out, one soldier from the ranks shouted,

started throwing their questions. Each voice was louder than the last, demanding