Western camp of the alliance.
Near the Hastin Village.
The camp is quiet. To the point it didn't look like a military camp at all. Some people are training, some are meditating, some are cultivating.
But a lot of people are just chilling, grinding their teeth.
The camp's leader among them all is the most frustrated. The incompetence of the alliance, to fight against a single faction is frustrating to say the least.
He wanted to clash with Hastin warriors, he wanted to shed blood in this war, but he couldn't.
He even shaved his head as a vow. To fight and die in this battle if he must. Now his sword is just resting in its sheath. He cannot move, cannot fight, cannot even look at the Hastin village in a wrong way.
Just a few bone snakes and their whole battle strategy went on hold.
Even Shimmy couldn't reverse the situation. He felt so incompetent. So useless. Like never before in his life.
