Fortress of the Darkmane Tribe…
Troy sat in his chair with his eyes closed.
The monster stampede had killed over three thousand warriors from the Darkmane Tribe.
At the moment, Jafar was doing his best to re-animate the dead, but Troy knew that the shaman wouldn't be able to make use of all of them before the monsters attacked them again.
During the battle, the walls had received great damage from the monsters. By the end, they were already on the verge of collapsing.
Yet, when the battle ended, the damaged walls were repaired. Now, it was as good as new. This miracle made the warriors of the Darkmane Tribe feel hopeful, but Troy knew better.
The repair had done nothing but delay the inevitable.
At that point, Troy knew that the next time the monsters attacked, it might also be the last time they defended.
'I shouldn't have come,' Troy thought for the umpteenth time.
