On this day, the villages near the battlefield, and even Conte City itself, dozens of miles away from the battlefield, were filled with dispirited Rebel Army soldiers.
They burst into every open tavern, throwing all the copper coins they had for alcohol, then drinking wildly as if there was no tomorrow.
It seemed that only by consuming the horse urine-like homebrewed alcohol could they suppress the fear within their hearts.
People curiously asked them what had happened? Where's the main force of the Rebels? Where's Colonel Donald?
Whenever someone around them asked such questions, these soldiers would tremble like startled sparrows, looking around fearfully, then utter the events with a shaky voice:
They would say: "It was a demon, a bloodthirsty demon leading the blue demons, swallowing our entire army whole."
They would also say that the demon possessed magic that could make an entire army disappear in the fields only to leap out from nowhere suddenly.
