The third target with support is not so fragile, and the underground struggle provides the Pigmen with ample food. Likewise, they have suffered considerable losses, making it difficult to quickly organize a team able to destroy the stronghold.

The anticipated counterattack by Lance and the others did not materialize. Not a single Ascension Cultist showed up; instead, it was the Pigmen who seemed to have coordinated an assault.

This connection is quite seamless. One would hardly believe the old ancestor wasn't up to some tricks.

But where have those cultists gone?

In the vast wilderness, where will they appear?

At this moment, an Ascension Cultist walks out of the passageway, but waiting for him isn't gunfire or bayonets.

There's not even a flicker of firelight; rather, it is as quiet as in the nights of the wilderness past.

The cultist looks up and sees the faint silhouette of the watchtower. In the wilderness, what other place would have such a tall building if not a frontier post?

The fact that he can spot it means they're incredibly close.

Without hesitation, he uses the night as cover to approach stealthily, even though the Ascension Sect's throat-choking frontier post was heavily guarded even at night.

The area within a hundred yards was cleared of any obstacles and filled with various traps that would alert guards if approached.

Even if one bypassed the traps and crept through the shadows, the torches atop the high walls burned perpetually, and soldiers patrolled ceaselessly.

They wouldn't stand a chance against the brick-built high walls, not even close.

But now the frontier post seems asleep, devoid of firelight, devoid of patrols.

Like a lifeless ghost town.

Without manpower, the frontier post seems far less secure.

However, the cultist does not lose his sanity. Instead, he displays a rare calm, retracting his gaze swiftly and returning to the passage whose control remains within his grasp.

He fails to notice the eyes watching him from the Void, tracking his every movement.

Meanwhile, Lance is at the temporary hospital attending to injured soldiers.

During the day, apart from handling various affairs and logistics, Lance performs surgery and administers potions using "Flesh Reconstruction."

Even those dragged into surgery close to death come out with merely flesh wounds.

Yet, Lance does not easily erase their scars, for those are the badges of their honor.

Lance understands the terror behind Supernatural Power, but everything he has built relies upon it.

Without this technique, the injured would overwhelm Hamlet.

The lightly wounded are treated by medical staff, whose skills have become reliable after numerous practical sessions.

Post-treatment, their injuries have healed; most are now lightly wounded or fully recovered.

Tomorrow, over fifty of these seventy soldiers will be ready to engage in battle again.

After making rounds, Lance guides the medical staff and offers comfort to the injured soldiers.

Many of these injured soldiers are recruits, unfamiliar with how to protect themselves while taking down enemies on the battlefield.

Facing such a terrifying enemy on their first battle even after rescue, their souls are crushed by fear.

Harsh training only provides their strong bodies, but souls must be tempered to grow.

It is a path they must traverse; if they can't endure, they aren't meant to stay.

Yet, Lance does not blame them, nor does he order them onto the battlefield; instead, he converses with them.

Discussing today's action, the cultists' threat to Hamlet,

the military's battle force is about belief—telling them why they fight.

It's to protect the suffering people of Hamlet, to pave the way for its development, it's for their glory.

It's also for humanity—to send anti-human cultists to Hell!

Such empty slogans might not get across well, but they do fuel most recruits' emotions.

They know the Lord saved them, granting substantial benefits; they're ready to lay down their lives for the Lord.

These lost young lives believe the Lord will lead them to victory and brighter futures.

Lance inspires them, yet harshly places them on the board to face the old ancestor.

Because Lance's massive effort was precisely for today, this treatment is the price for their lives.

This is reality, this is war.

Veteran soldiers with scars need no comfort, every one of them is tough. Their presence here means they stood in moments of crisis.

Perhaps to protect teammates, kill heavily guarded cult Spellcasters, or cover a retreat...

Anyway, these added scars are just another badge, life is a sacrifice to defend loyalty to the Lord.

Lance offers significant rewards but rarely mentions it.

He refuses to measure the warriors' achievements with Gold Coin, instead prefers to emphasize their honor, praise their courage and wisdom.