Just after Viscount Webster finished explaining the distribution and risks of enemy strongholds.
The atmosphere in the large tent fell into brief silence, with everyone waiting for the next deployment proposal.
Viscount Webster spoke with a serious and grave tone:
"Based on current intelligence, the terrain around the Ice Fang Mine area is relatively gentle. We could consider prioritizing the elimination of this stronghold first, then use it as a starting point to advance and defeat them one by one. This is the most prudent approach."
Several old-school nobles nodded in agreement, clearly approving of this steady, methodical deployment.
But before he could continue in detail, a hoarse voice tinged with drunkenness suddenly interrupted him: "Old man, why are you being so slow?"
Everyone turned to look at the main seat in unison.
Earl Foss was supporting himself with one hand on the chair back, barely keeping himself upright, his face still heavy with intoxication.
