Kael spent the entire morning racking his brain, trying to figure out a way forward. On the outside, he kept his usual cold and collected demeanor, but inside, he was screaming.
"This is shit… This is the deepest level of fucking shit I have ever seen."
His mind raced through the numbers again. "If my calculations are right, I have to clear thousands of monsters and beasts… and what do I have?" He looked around at his so-called army.
Handle and Vic—are both A-rank. Chandler—a C rank. The rest? A pathetic mix of 90 C-ranks and below. As for his men—Baret had barely advanced to peak D, Gare was just D, and Chris? E-rank. "You expect me to fight with this?" Kael suppressed the urge to throw something. His fists clenched as he recalled Grant's smug face from their last meeting.
"That bastard Austin cooked me. No, he deep-fried me."
The main problem was he didn't know if the Northern gates were standing. If it has fallen, it was just a waste to go there.
