Kingdom of the Weak

21. Next Morning

Markus had his head in his hands. “Eighty dead.”

That was the sum total of casualties when Kairos counted all the funerals requested by the five gangs. The Burning Steel gang, with the best equipment in town, suffered only eight losses. The Secret Waves and the Circling Ravens suffered much worse, each losing two dozen. Either of their losses were as much as the Cruel Rose’s and Blood Claw’s combined.

“It could have been worse.” Max mentioned. “At least our trainees survived. They might have lost a few limbs, but they’re all alive.”

“They’re saying it’s our fault.” Markus said grimly. “Since I was the coordinator.”

“Hey, I remember you giving orders. The only ones who followed them were us, the Legion. Everybody else didn’t, and the Wilds broke through their stations, not ours.”

Remian groaned and shifted on the bed.

They were sitting at his bedside, in one of the rooms of the Open Frontier Inn. For lack of a better place to be, the Iron Legion had ended up staying the night at