The Storm Twin Blades Brothers were also alive, but in terrible shape.
The older brother had lost his right arm. The wound was wrapped in thick strips of cloth, soaked through with blood that had since dried and turned black. His face was as pale as paper as he leaned against a rock, his remaining left hand clutching a Curved Saber.
His younger brother sat beside him with a vacant look in his eyes. His leg was gone from the knee down, the stump wrapped in cloth. He cradled another Curved Saber, his fingers unconsciously stroking the hilt.
The highlander in the wolf fur was still alive, but his body was covered in wounds. Only a few tattered remnants of his signature Wolf Fur Cloak hung from his shoulders.
He sat there like a silent rock, the fierce gleam of a wild wolf only flashing in his eyes when he occasionally scanned his surroundings.
The representative from the Golden Coast was also among the survivors.
