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    “Halt.” Dressed in a robe, the Soul Forger lowered his arm. His gaze was tainted with viciousness. “Only attack after the Savior leaves.”


    Irvine was annoyed by his superstitious logic. “We’re on a battlefield now. In your own Cascadian words, the battlefield is ever–changing. There shouldn’t be any dyed timings or opportunities.”


    “I agree, colonel, but fortune is on their side now. If we attack forcefully, things might go wrong.”


    The Soul Forger turned around. There was a deep scar visible between his eyebrows. He had an unpleasant–looking face, with protruding cheekbones and gloomy eyes.


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