It was the morning after Blitz and Hassan had accomplished their mission.
People went through their normal routines without a care in the world. They ate, they drank, and they made preparations for the war that would start in a day or two.
Most of the nobles had already gathered inside the fortress. Aside from a handful of lords, like the Viscount of Frontera, everyone was ready to march as soon as they were ordered to move.
"Man… I shouldn't have drunk that much last night," a soldier said in regret. "I don't feel so good."
"I don't feel too good either," another soldier commented. "I feel nauseous."
Funnily enough, they weren't the only ones who felt ill. A little talk let them know that most of their friends and acquaintances were on the same page as them.
Some even showed signs of weakness and fatigue, while a handful were already down with a fever.
Thinking they merely had hangovers, the two soldiers believed they would get better later in the day.
But it never did.
