"Lord City Lord!" Just then, a voice sounded from behind the White-faced King, and a short figure slowly emerged from a corner.
"My mind is made up. Don't try to change it," the White-faced King said, frowning at the emerging figure and waving his hand.
"Even if you won't think of yourself, Lord City Lord, you must think of our Ice and Snow Race." The short figure stepped forward, his blue eyes fixed on the White-faced King.
"That is precisely what I am doing—thinking of my race."
"I have a plan!"
The White-faced King's gaze sharpened, but he eventually nodded. "Speak!"
"We have no reinforcements for this battle; defeat is certain," the short figure said again. "Since defeat is inevitable, our only option is to protect the supplies!"
"Do you think I don't know that?" The White-faced King sat down.
"If our priority is the supplies, then your task, Lord City Lord, shouldn't be defending the city, but transporting them!" The short figure took a step forward.
