Gilmon stayed kneeling. "What are our plans now, my liege?"
Edmund growled low. "Ugh… Even if we send our air unit—the wyvern riders—it won't be easy anymore…"
He turned sharply toward Gilmon. "How many of our special infiltration unit do we have?"
Gilmon responded promptly, "Approximately 150+, my liege."
Edmund narrowed his eyes. "Can they disguise as halflings?"
"Yes, my liege. Their transformation magic and infiltration training are designed for that."
"Good." Edmund's voice was cold. "Send 100. Their mission is to embed themselves inside the Halfling Kingdom. I don't expect this war to end in our favor now… not anymore."
Gilmon looked up, confused. "My liege?"
Edmund clenched his fist. "That bastard Garius has already made his move. That means this war… will end soon."
"My liege…?"
Edmund's expression twisted. "He knows. He knows we can't win once he and his sons are involved."
He walked toward the war map, pointing toward the Dwarven capital with a dagger.
