At that moment, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching from far away became audible.
Dozens of soldiers marched towards the field with the Dwarf Duke Bhagholir in front of them.
Bhagholir's hopeful and jubilant expression as he came into the field vanished the moment he saw Atlas, as did the rest of the army and Atlas' troop.
The young man looked more than a little sad and heartbroken.
The young man who had told himself that he would no longer be a hero, or that he had chosen not to be a random hero, was still in the deepest recesses of his soul, the soul filled with the cracks that Chronos had sent back in time.
Atlas was trying to empathise. He had seen what he was seeing now many times, but no matter how many times he saw something so awful, he couldn't seem to get used to it. Maybe he wasn't vomiting or dizzy with shock like the first time he'd seen it, but his chest was tight with pity for those who had suffered so much.
