A faint breeze blew across the open field, carrying the cold smell of frost and burnt wood.
Soldiers listened silently, the weight of Fred's words sinking into them.
"Our job," Fred continued, his voice growing heavier, "is to defeat them and build a stronghold there. However…" He paused, scanning the crowd with a solemn expression. "It won't be easy."
He took a deep breath and added quietly, "Leading them are Demon Generals. Not just any demons — but ones from the Tribes of the Deadly Sins."
Gasps rippled through the soldiers. Some swallowed hard, others shifted nervously. Even the bravest among them looked uncertain for a moment.
"Fighting them, especially with those cursed abilities of theirs, will be harsh," Fred said grimly. He then turned toward Hobbins, who stepped forward with a firm stance and a burning look in his eyes.
"But still…" Hobbins shouted suddenly, raising his arm high. "We will win!"
