The battle was over.

The once unbreakable fortress had turned into ruins.

Brey's figure wandered among them.

Brey shed not a single tear, nor did he show any fear.

At this moment, Brey's heart was filled with confusion.

Brey didn't feel too much grief for Barossa's death.

Brey didn't have much feeling towards this seemingly tragic battle either.

Or perhaps it could be said that Brey never cared about Barossa's unintentionally chuunibyou-like comments, or Garuda's arrogant words that were like a nobleman looking down on a beggar.

What really caught Brey's attention was the so-called "Iron Kind" and "Bronze Kind."

It seemed that the world was not as simple as he imagined.

And Brey wanted to understand all of this.

"The food is covered in blood...disgusting..." Brey looked at the piece of bread he picked up with disgust.

Then Brey stuffed the bread into his mouth.

The taste of bread mixed with blood swirled inside his mouth.

"What an awful taste."

Brey didn't have a hobby of drinking blood and couldn't possibly find it delicious.

Why was there bread?

How could a fortress not have food?

Not to mention the jailers, the prisoners needed something to eat too.

Brey, who had been hungry for a whole day and night, soon searched for food in the ruins.

However, most of the food was wasted.

Brey could only look under the rocks to find something edible.

And look for some important tools as well.

"More rations...the military really needs to improve their meals..." Brey picked up a handful of dusty jerky and put it into his pocket.

He also changed from his prison clothes into more casual clothes.

The stuff stripped from the prisoners would be thrown together, of course, except for the valuable items.

After a lot of effort, Brey found the place where the items were stored, picked a set of casual clothes, and put them on.

Brey sniffed the clothes.

—"Should be fine..."

He could only pray that the original owner didn't have any hidden illnesses. If there were any hidden illnesses...

Brey shuddered.

"Well, that would be unlucky."

When he had almost finished searching for supplies, Brey planned to leave the ruins.

But not now, as the sun had already set.

This was the time when monsters and wild beasts roamed.

Brey didn't think that after witnessing a big battle, he would become stronger...

An F-ranked mercenary couldn't even defeat a slime.

Having eaten enough, Brey still found that he didn't have any tools on him.

At least there wasn't a single rope.

"How troublesome."

Scratching his head, Brey looked listless.

But he still had to keep looking.

Just as Brey was about to take a step out to look for tools, he suddenly felt a cold touch around his ankle, as if something had grabbed it.

Brey's right eye widened, and he saw a hand gripping his ankle.

"Save me..."

A hoarse voice rasped, and Brey was taken aback.

A man with an iron helmet, his face obscured, lay on the ground.

The man was still alive.

However, Brey sighed and shook off the man's hand.

"Save me..."

His hoarse voice begged repeatedly for help.

The bloodless hand kept patting the ground, trying to gain my attention.

At first, Brey searched for survivors when he was looking for supplies.

But later, Brey gave up on doing so.

Because there were many people who were still breathing, but not a single one could be saved.

All of them had their bodies strangely mutilated.

Only Brey was lucky enough to lose just one eye.

But others weren't so fortunate, or maybe there were others as lucky as Brey, but he didn't find them.

How strange was the mutilation?

For example, the man who was begging for help now had his lower body detached and a few meters away.

Blood was still gushing out, but the man could still move.

Moreover, it seemed he had been holding on for several hours already.In such a state, hanging on for several hours was like a curse. Only when Brey thought of this did he feel lucky. Brey understood that it was because of this curse that he could still be alive even when he was bleeding like this. However, Brey knew very well that this state would not last forever. His eyes were still bleeding. Maybe he wouldn't survive for too long.

"I'm sorry, I can't save you."

"Save me! Save me!"

Ignoring the miserable cries, Brey staggered away. Brey wanted to save the person, but that was all he could do. Brey was not a clergyman, not a doctor, and had no first aid equipment. Even if he bandaged the person, it would be of no use. There was no way to save him, and that was the cruel reality.

A few seconds later, the person pleading for help lost all sound. Brey heard the sound of someone falling behind him, and his whole body became stiff. Then he continued walking. Behind him were countless bodies lying on the ground or buried in debris.

The sky gradually turned dark. There used to be groans filling the ruins, but now everything was quiet. The silence was terrible.

"It's much better now without the groaning," Brey said with a bitter smile. Not hearing any groans meant something, but it didn't need to be said.

But he was still alive. Brey crawled back into the previous prison, found some stones to block the entrance.

"..." Brey touched a cold corpse.

"Goodnight, jailer brother."

Brey closed his right eye, while his left eye, devoid of an eyeball, stared at the pitch black cell. He thought of countless people who died in the fortress at this moment.

Brey heard Garuda's words in his mind.

-"Ants of the Iron Kind."

Now, it indeed looked like ants—so fragile that they were destroyed in an instant. And it was all because of the appearance of the so-called "Bronze Kind". It was not the casualties caused by the aftermath of the battle. The number of people who died due to the battle was very few.

An ant crawled onto Brey's arm. Brey, who wanted to pinch the ant to death, stopped.

"Go to sleep."

What a miserable day.