Chapter 97

"We may not recover from a rash attack," said Kuahel. "We cannot take the risk."

"We cannot keep wasting time either!" Adolf slammed his fist on the table, his craggy face flushed with anger. "Our supplies are running low, as is our horse fodder. At this rate, we'll either starve to death in this barren wasteland or retreat without having achieved a thing!"

"We still have enough for a few weeks," Agnes retorted, annoyance bubbling beneath her calm exterior. "As Sir Kuahel has pointed out, a foolhardy attack could cost us greatly. Our soldiers are defenseless while the enemy is protected by solid walls! Unless we find a way to protect our men—"

"There is no way," Richard Breston interjected, followed by a sardonic snort. "Unless the walls collapse on their own, the monsters will always have the upper hand. We have a greater chance of winning by mobilizing all of our troops. Let me remind you that it's not just the enemy that wearies the longer this siege drags on."