As we continued moving forward, Azpen remained at the front, leading the way.
None of us knew our destination.
None of us asked.
We simply followed his back.
Then suddenly, a bird dove down from the sky and circled directly top of Azpen's horse.
I recognized the bird immediately.
The Mercenary Office trained these birds from the moment they hatched. They were called Delivery Crows. From a young age, they were taught to carry messages to specific people using scent, appearance, and repeated training.
They were extremely valuable during wars.
The crow landed on Azpen's shoulder.
Holding the reins in his right hand, he raised his left and signaled everyone to stop.
A small letter was tied to the bird's leg.
Azpen untied it and opened the folded paper.
I couldn't see what was written.
But I saw his expression.
Steam began rising from his body again.
The paper in his hand crumpled.
For a moment, I thought he might tear it apart.
Instead, he took a deep breath.
Then another.
Slowly, the steam faded.
He tapped the crow's stomach twice.
The bird immediately took flight.
Some kind of signal.
Azpen turned toward us.
"Follow the crow."
"We're regrouping."
His voice sounded calm.
His eyes did not.
There was irritation hidden inside them.
That alone made me uneasy.
Even during battle, while charging into enemy formations, Azpen had never shown even the slightest sign of frustration.
If an Aura Knight was irritated...
The message couldn't have contained anything good.
The crow changed our direction completely.
Instead of heading deeper into the swamp, it led us toward the right side of the forest.
After following the crow for nearly forty minutes, we finally reached our destination.
There was a village.
At least, not a real one.
What stood before us looked like a small settlement created overnight.
Hundreds of tents had been erected across an open stretch of land.
Mercenaries moved between them constantly.
From a distance, the rows of tents almost resembled a small village.
Wounded men sat outside the tents while priests moved from group to group.
Some mercenaries were eating from wooden bowls.
Others silently cleaned blood from their weapons.
A few simply sat on the ground, staring into nothing.
The smell of blood, medicine, sweat, and cooking food mixed together in the air.
It was clear this place had been turned into a temporary command camp after the battle.
As we entered the village, a thin man with a narrow mustache stepped out from one of the larger tents.
"Oh?"
"Azpen, you're still alive."
He laughed lightly.
"Even after the first charge."
"I knew you'd survive."
"Your master, Count Lergand, will be happy to hear it."
Azpen's expression remained unchanged.
"Count Lergand has been bedridden for the last two months."
"There is no count here."
The mustached man awkwardly coughed.
"Oh, right."
"But the firstborn heir is practically the same thing."
"I don't know why you're making life difficult for yourself."
"If you swore loyalty to him, you could have escaped this mess."
I immediately felt irritated.
We had just returned from battle.
Men were dying.
Others were missing limbs.
Yet this fool was openly discussing noble family politics as though none of it mattered.
For a moment, I wanted to punch him in the throat.
But I didn't know who he was.
A noble?
A servant?
An officer?
I kept quiet.
Azpen finally spoke.
"My men are injured."
"We can discuss this later."
"Where is the camp leader?"
The mustached man's smile stiffened slightly.
Then he pointed toward the center of the village.
"Inside."
Azpen nodded and rode away without another word.
The man watched him leave before turning away himself.
The entire exchange lasted less than a minute.
Yet the tension between them was obvious.
I had no idea what their history was.
And honestly...
I didn't care enough to ask.
A wooden fence surrounded most of the village.
It had clearly been built in a hurry.
The foundation was weak.
The walls weren't particularly high.
Still, it would slow down a surprise attack.
That was enough.
I finally found an isolated spot near the edge of the camp.
Sliding off Rusty's back, I landed on the ground.
Then I simply fell onto my back.
The sky above looked strangely peaceful.
My entire body ached.
Every muscle felt heavy.
Even breathing required effort.
Still, I maintained Beast Breathing.
I wasn't foolish enough to stop now.
As I stared upward, thoughts drifted through my mind.
We had succeeded in intercepting the rear force.
But what about the infantry?
What about the nest?
What about the remaining lizardmen?
Were we winning?
Or losing?
I didn't know.
That was what bothered me most.
Information.
I had none.
Fighting without information felt like walking through a forest blindfolded.
No matter how sharp a blade was...
It couldn't cut what it couldn't see.
Eventually, I pushed those thoughts aside.
There was nothing I could do right now.
Rest came first.
Questions could wait.
Beside me, Rusty slowly lowered himself onto the ground.
Rusty released a tired breath before resting its head nearby.
For the first time since the battle had begun...
Neither of us moved.