Robson stood at the front of his army, watching the dust kicked up by the Beastman Army.
A Beastman Corps of several thousand soldiers broke away from the main force of the Beastman Army. The main army's retreat, however, was somewhat slow.
Robson didn't need to think twice to know what they were up to.
The Beastmen opposite had surely heard of Robson's fearsome reputation, but the two sides had never truly clashed.
'They're probably thinking of testing the quality of my army before deciding whether to retreat.'
After all, their main camp was retreating far too slowly.
'It can't just be that the retreat is slow because the elites are serving as the rear guard, can it?'
Seeing this scene, Robson had to admit he was a little nervous.
In the past, whether on the Western Front or the Eastern Front, Lord Robson had always preferred to pick on the small fry.
