"Raymond, accept the loss with grace." The Great Sage of Scaret spoke impassively as he tried to calm Prince Scaret, who was pacing in the temple hall.
"Damn it! Even if I swallow this, what about the future?" Raymond clenched his fists, staring at the chaos outside among his subordinates. "Fortunately, since it was a military transport, only the newly appointed fleet commanders were sent, so I haven't suffered a critical blow.
Yet... even for me, I only receive so many new recruits from the army each year!
An entire annihilation!
How do I account for this to the armies they came from?
The last time there was such a significant loss was during wartime!
Damned it...
Next year they definitely won't give me any!"
"You were too careless, who can you blame?" The Great Sage said with a serious tone, "You've seen too much of the Moon Clan, so you underestimated those Undead Tribe across from you!
Otherwise, how could you ignore such a serious matter?
