Looking at the Blood Race Soldiers still attacking below, they swung the War Axe, like a meteor crashing down.
Watching this scene, the Mage could only shake his head helplessly, gripping his Magic Staff and returning to the fortress wall, vigilantly observing.
Muttering to himself, "It's a pity, I thought I could detain the enemy's general.
Judging by his appearance, he must be Martin. I wonder if there are any hidden strong warriors among the enemy ranks.
If not, now would actually be the best time to attack."
Although he said this, he did not take any action, as this was merely speculation. An impromptu attack might incur greater costs, and he was not any officer; he was merely a Mage accompanying the army responsible for the Prince.
At this moment, Martin, with a broken wing, returned to the camp.
"Damn it, there were actually two of them, one had already been hidden in the fortress?" Martin frowned as he reviewed the situation.
