Kyle and his group continued their march after the skirmish, but the atmosphere among his people had changed.
Tension hung thick in the air—each footstep heavier, each glance sharper. They were alert, their hands never far from their weapons.
Even the most talkative among them had fallen silent, the echo of divine interference lingering in their minds.
Kyle walked at the front, gaze sweeping the surroundings with practiced ease. He could feel the change in his soldiers. It wasn't fear—it was caution teetering on the edge of exhaustion.
He slowed his pace and eventually stopped. Turning around, he addressed them calmly.
"We can't afford to stay this tense. It'll wear us out before we even reach the battlefield."
He said, his voice clear and steady.
Heads lifted toward him, waiting.
"We'll take turns on watch. Shift duty. Everyone rests in rotation. No one stays alert for more than their share. We need our strength. Exhaustion will kill us faster than the enemy."
