Chapter 81: Deliman (Part I)

　　The fall of Kasdari and the total collapse of the frontier shattered what little remained of the Voxmire army's resolve. For too long, the legions had been steeped in comfort and self-indulgence. They had arrogance enough to believe victory would be easy, yet they lacked the will to drill in combat formations or sharpen their skills. To forge a warrior’s spirit in the fires of hardship was, to them, an alien concept.　　Their rout was a brutal awakening. When they finally opened their eyes to the reality of the slaughter, the sight was unbearable. They tried to stand and fight, but years of soft living made their armor feel like an impossible weight, and their hands—clumsy from neglect—forgot how to wield even the finest blades.　　Officers, frantic and disorganized, scrambled to gather their units and rushed them onto the field. Compared to the disciplined, battle-hardened ranks of the Nord army, they were little more than a desperate rabble.　　The Nord army advanced with the confidence of conquerors, marching as if through empty lands. Panic gripped both the Golden Axe Hall in Hedlim and the eastern front. Amidst the chaos, a single, clear voice of reason reached the Duke: there could be no peace talks. One could not expect a reliable peace from an enemy whose hunger for conquest knew no bounds.　　Finally roused, Reberdi