Chapter 2

The scarred man suddenly stopped, and due to the pull of the chains, the entire group came to a halt. The old man looked at the anger in the other's eyes and let out a meaningless chuckle.

"Don't stop, keep moving!" a voice barked from a distance.

The old man gently patted the scarred man's shoulder. The group continued to move forward.

"We didn't betray, we were betrayed..." After a moment, the old man heard the scarred man whisper.

"So you gave that little king a stab?"

"I just..."

"Was it the state that sent you to do dangerous and secret tasks? When you completed your mission with heavy sacrifices, they suddenly denied everything... This kind of thing happens all the time. But when you attacked the king in a fit of rage, you could never clear the charge of betrayal... But at least you got some relief. Even if you didn't do this, you probably wouldn't have had a chance to clear your name."

The scarred man remained silent, and the old man continued on his own.

"But, many things in the world are inherently dirty. Powerful people often betray others through backroom deals to gain benefits. When you agreed to carry out such missions, you were the fools! However... someone as young as you, with your head clouded by a sense of honor, is easily deceived. So you ended up here? You should really thank those who planned the organization of the sinners, otherwise, you would have been beheaded and displayed long ago."

"What about you?" Perhaps the mocking tone in the old man's voice angered the scarred man, who suddenly countered. "How did you end up here?"

"Me? I was a holy knight, living a good life... until one day, I saw things that humans shouldn't see... and then I ended up here."

"You didn't kneel and worship when you saw the gods of the star domain, did you?"

"If it were just that, it would have been better..." The old man sighed, looking up at the sky. "I saw not only the gods but much more..."

"Even lies have their limits, you know." The scarred man dismissed it.

"Lies..." The old man let out a self-pitying laugh. "I wish it were all just my lies. Is there any water left in the water bag?" He changed the topic.

"A little." The scarred man replied, shaking the water bag. Each sinner had such a small bag, but it was so small that the water inside was only enough for one person's daily consumption. By the time they camped at dusk, each bag was always empty.

"Give me a drink."

The scarred man handed the water bag to the old man, who took a sip and then threw it back.

"Kid, if you have anything you want to say, just say it. To be honest, we're probably going to die this time. Do you know why they recruited us, these condemned prisoners, as sinners? It's because they want us to die! They need to assess the combat power of the vampires of Kalaan!"

"You seem to know a lot about vampires? Are they really that powerful? I've heard that vampires aren't that strong, for example, they can't stand sunlight, can't cross running water, can't..."

"Can't smell garlic, can't see their reflection in a mirror, and must sleep in coffins..." The old man picked up where the scarred man left off, his voice full of sarcasm. "I've heard these too! But I must say, they're all nonsense. Do you remember what I said last night?"

"You told us not to get close to the vampires?"

"Exactly, you just need to remember one thing—very few warriors can survive after facing vampires."

During lunch, the army didn't set up a camp. They simply rested briefly in the desert, hastily eating some dry bread with water from their water bags.

"Boss, tell us more about the vampires." Under a simple sunshade tent, the sinner squad gathered together, enjoying the rare bit of shade in the scorching heat.

"The number of vampires in Kalaan is actually not many, so theoretically, we shouldn't encounter them..." The old man thought for a moment. "Right, there's something I need to tell you. Those skeletons and zombies resurrected by black magic have one characteristic—they don't know how to retreat."

"Even the bravest warrior, when faced with multiple enemies attacking at once, will choose to retreat a few steps. But those undead monsters won't retreat because they are just puppets controlled by black magic. This is both good and bad. The bad part is that you can't expect them to break and run, even the last one won't waver. The good part is that as long as we coordinate well, those monsters are not hard to deal with."

The rest period was quite different for another group far from the sinners.

The sinners had a simple sunshade tent made of two sticks, while the officers generally had large umbrellas. With the help of these, even under the scorching desert sun, it didn't feel too bad.

"General, our mages have sensed the presence of black magic energy, but they can't determine its distance."

The fat general, dressed in full armor, sat on a portable chair. The armor was so large that it could fit two ordinary soldiers. After a morning of marching, even with the help of the umbrellas, he was already drenched in sweat and panting.

"The vampires have definitely discovered us. There will be a battle today."

But this was actually expected. The army's movement was completely open, with no attempt to hide. The vampires of Kalaan, no matter how foolish, wouldn't think that this army of tens of thousands was crossing the desert for a vacation.

"The scouts haven't brought any news yet. We still know nothing about the enemy's strength and composition. But the enemy must have learned about our situation. This puts us at a significant disadvantage."

"So what if it's a disadvantage? It's no big deal! Those zombies and skeletons might scare the militia, but they can't threaten our well-prepared, well-equipped army. I've heard that the vampires of Kalaan don't even know what gunpowder is! No matter how powerful their black magic is, they're just targets in front of our muskets and cannons!" The fat general replied arrogantly.

"Kalaan may not have cannons, muskets, or even many archers... but they rely on black magic. Even so, General, we must not underestimate them."

This clearly displeased the fat general, who glared at the officer who spoke, without responding.

Seeing his superior's displeasure, another person spoke up.

"Why say such things? We are not underestimating the enemy. General has already formulated a strategy. Our mages and scouts are closely monitoring the movements of the undead army. As soon as they appear, we will know immediately. Then we will have a clear understanding of the enemy's strength and composition. What disadvantage could there be? When the time comes, General will decide whether to fight or retreat, and we just need to follow orders."

"That's right..." This made the fat general feel much better. After drinking a cup of iced drink, his sweat subsided. He stood up, about to order the army to move, but a yellow dust cloud in the distance caught his eye.

It was a cavalryman, clearly one of the scouts on the outskirts of the army. The rider was urging his horse to full speed, heading straight for them, without slowing down.

The hooves kicked up clouds of yellow sand, covering the sinners' heads and faces.

"The enemy is here!" The old man shook his head, saying what everyone had expected but didn't want to hear.

"Form up, form up!" The officers managing the sinners shouted, trying to gather the scattered sinners.

The sky had turned dark at some point. Dark clouds, a rare sight in the desert, covered half the sky. The scorching sun had hidden behind the clouds, but this didn't make anyone feel better, as the supernatural signs were too obvious. It was definitely the effect of magic.

The sinners formed a line at the front. The scarred man and the old man stood close together in the second row. Looking back, the other troops were also in position. The artillerymen had taken up a more stable high ground, with a row of cannons pointing forward.

First, the wind brought an unusual smell, the stench of decaying flesh.

The scarred man unconsciously gripped his spear, the pre-battle tension affecting the entire army. No one spoke.

"Kid, save your strength, the battle is still far off." The old man seemed more relaxed, leaning on his spear, seemingly calm.

A rolling cloud of dust appeared on the horizon, a sign of a large army advancing.

The officers rode through the sinner ranks, holding water bags and splashing water on the sinners' heads and bodies.

"You sinners, you are all criminals who deserve death! But now the state has given you one last chance, a precious chance to die honorably on the battlefield, rather than in disgrace on the executioner's block! So that your families won't be disgraced!"

A splash of water hit the scarred man's head, and this insulting act made him grip his spear again. But the old man promptly placed a hand on his, preventing any rash action.

"Why did you stop me?" After the officer left, the scarred man suddenly asked.

"Young man, you'll understand in time. Temporary retreat is not a sign of weakness. You need to see the essence of things, not the surface. For example, even if this guy dies now, do you think our situation will improve?"