When Perfikot stepped into the survivors' camp again, the scene before her made her heart tighten.
Though all of this was part of the plan, and she had anticipated the aftermath of the camp attack, seeing it in ruins still caused her a pang of discomfort.
In the morning mist, the once vibrant camp was now a sight of devastation with charred wooden beams stuck slantingly in the snow, and black smoke still rising from the crumbling walls.
Several flags bearing the Empire's emblem were half-buried in the rubble, flapping noisily in the cold wind.
The Evil God believers' assault had come swiftly and mercilessly, like a beast pouncing in the night.
They wielded bone-crafted weapons inscribed with blasphemous runes, the twisted symbols glowing a sickly green in the moonlight, leaving corrosive trails in the air with every swing.
The zealots had not only used their dark powers to destroy most of the buildings, they had also heavily damaged the camp's critical Energy Tower.
