The situation at the Five Realms Fortress grows more dire by the day. Besides the meager dry rations and the honorable title of Paladin, no other power supports these brave warriors in their continued fight. The Snake-men, with their vast army, loom in the distance like an unrelenting dark cloud, accompanied by the thunder that shakes the spirits of the defenders time and again.

Yet the sky is ironically clear, and everyone can clearly see the formidable army. They are in a much better condition than those at the Five Realms Fortress; at least their Priests can promptly tend to the wounded. Wislin disdainfully calls such magic witchcraft, equating it to the spells used by the Beastman Shaman, a barbaric defilement of nature and goodness. But he doesn't even have access to such means to aid his own soldiers, forced to watch them suffer as his heart bleeds. The steadfast warriors can only bandage their wounds simply before heading back into battle, until they collapse from blood loss. This scene has played out numerous times before Wislin, as many of his good friends have left the world forever.

Crows circle overhead, their harsh, rasping cries always foreshadowing bad news. "Crows only visit places on the brink of death," the legend unknowingly spreads among the soldiers, leaving each of them with a troubled question in their hearts, "Is my final resting place going to be in the stomachs of these crows?"

But aren't Paladins meant to be honorably buried in Pate's Temple, quietly lying beside the Light God, eternally guarding the brightest place in the world, with no darkness accompanying even in death? When ideals are shattered by reality, the soldiers can only lower their heads.

There isn't a cloud in the sky, but the air feels heavy; for this season, it is an unusually cold day. The rising sun is tinged with blood, followed by a mass of dark clouds, as if a storm looms to the east; another shadow seems to drift slowly over the diagonal valley in the northwest. If Lynch were here, he would surely tell Wislin that it is actually the army of the Snake-men.

However, Anna the elf can also tell this. She leaps down from the highest point of the city wall, deftly avoiding the soldiers resting on the ground, and weaves through the chaotic defensive lines to find Wislin, who is patrolling. They converse in the Elf Language, to avoid misunderstandings and prevent the soldiers from becoming even more demoralized by hearing too much bad news—ordinary people who can use the Elf Language are far too few.

"They've brought reinforcements, and things are going from bad to worse." After Anna finished speaking, Wislin replied, "Even the soldiers coming from Haisas have all been turned into casualties due to the Chimeras' harassment along the way. The helping hand moves so slowly, whereas the enemy seems endless. What should we do now?"

Anna looks at the heavy dark circles under Wislin's eyes, noticing how his once firm and resolute eyebrows are now knitted together. He hasn't rested for a long time, persistently patrolling back and forth on the frontline of the city wall. Only when the Snake-men cease their attacks can he lean against a corner of the wall and quickly close his eyes for a moment. Such intensity is too much even for an elf known for needing little sleep, let alone an ordinary human.

Anna can't bear to look at Wislin's weary face any longer and shifts her gaze to the Snake-men's camp outside the wall. She comforts him, saying, "Wislin, the elf reinforcements will come. Her Majesty the Queen would never let you fight alone here."

"I know," Wislin replied. "As long as the message gets through, we have hope." Pointing to the Snake-men's camp in the distance, he asked the elf, "Anna, when did those tall tents go up? I haven't had the chance to notice them."

The elf squints into the distance and then shakes her head, "The tents are so well-covered that it's impossible to see inside."

"We will find out, one day we will know what the Snake-men are up to," Wislin said, "as long as we can hold out until that day."

"They will come," Anna said, uncertain of what words could comfort Wislin. Sometimes, she felt like she had a thousand things to say, but when it came to speaking, she lost inspiration.

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