The blazing sun of late autumn was still dazzling, as if trying to make up for its absence during the previous downpour.
Moist vapor rose from the ground, yet mid-air it was distorted by the sunlight.
Such abnormal weather, even the oldest elders of the Thousand River Valley had never seen before.
Standing on the tree on the hillside of the small muddy ditch, Jeska concentrated with his single eye, carefully watching the church army appearing in the small woods and bushes, and breathed a sigh of relief.
Fortunately, the church's army hadn't walked past the fence yet; they were late by two candle lengths, surprisingly not too late.
Even though he didn't know why the opponent hadn't crossed the small muddy ditch yet, at least for now, he didn't have to change his name to Snotworm.
"Your Holiness." Jeska jumped down from the tree, "The enemy has already moved past the prearranged ambush position, our original plan might not work."
