The Bloody Heights were unusually quiet today.
There was wind, but only a whisper of it—just enough to swirl loose snow into tiny spirals before letting it fall gently back to earth.
Viston led the vanguard unit forward at a steady pace, the Scorpion's Nest scouts trailing not far behind.
They had considered launching a harassment strike, but after losing two men to a barrage of crossbow bolts, none dared approach again.
"Hoo…" Viston exhaled a cloud of white breath.
It had been nearly forty minutes since they set out, and he was beginning to think that being a commander wasn't as difficult as he'd imagined.
After all, in yesterday's battle, the marauders had lost nearly half their forces, leaving behind a battered and demoralized remnant.
And though he had fewer than fifty soldiers under his command, they had just come off a resounding victory.
Maybe… I really can lead them and shatter Helaite's army myself?