The light of dusk poured over the great grasslands, blending with the remains of shattered meat and corpses on the battlefield, forming a unique twilight scene.
As the victor, Glaem stood with an enraged expression, glaring at his troops. Despite holding an overwhelming advantage, the battle had nearly swung in the enemy's favor earlier.
If not for the critical moment where he turned the tide by eliminating the enemy's leader and breaking their morale, it could very well be them lying lifeless on the ground now.
"Laugh!"
"You bunch of idiots, how dare you still laugh.
Did all the training I've drilled into your pig brains go to waste?
Why didn't you form up according to the trained battle formations?
..."
Perhaps feeling that shouting wasn't enough to vent his frustration, Glaem didn't hold back his hands and feet while berating the Pigg soldiers.
He slapped one Pigg on the forehead, then kicked another on the rear—a scene truly too harsh for the eyes.
