Bumper straightened sharply and looked past him.
More crates were coming.There were too many of them.
Lines of them, stretching back like a supply train. Soldiers moved with urgency now, unloading, stacking, guarding.
"Where…" Bumper's voice came out rough. "Where did you get this many?"
"Leftovers from Nevan," the man said. "Prince Reign was careless. The rest came from the Eastern region."
Bumper's jaw tightened. His mind raced through numbers, logistics, and training.
"Our craftsmen are already working on them," the man continued. "Cleaning, fixing, making ammo. Supplies won't be a problem."
Bumper did not relax.
"Our soldiers aren't used to this," he said quietly. "Guns change how men fight.We need some time to practice but will these fuckers even let us."
The man chuckled.
"Why do you think these arrived so late?" he asked. "They've been training. Quietly."
Bumper closed his eyes for a moment and smirked,"I understand."
"Hahahaha!"
"Finally!"
.......
