"The North Shore... is finished!"
Gazing at the battleship bombarding from the South Shore, the adjutant uttered a cry of despair, then turned and hurried towards the barracks on the northern bank of Sevastopol.
Since artillery support could no longer be counted on, at least he could gather the remaining thousand or so troops from the barracks to the Star Fort.
In this way, at least the Star Fort could hold out for a while.
However, when the adjutant arrived at the barracks on horseback, there were already not many people left, just a company of less than 250 men and a militia unit of fewer than 100.
Looking at the empty barracks in front of him, along with the remaining soldiers inside.
The adjutant's head felt like it had been hit hard with a fist, ringing with a humming noise.
Where are they? Where have all my men gone!
Cries erupted in the adjutant's heart, and his expression grew even more desperate.
