Amid the worship and prostrations of countless warriors.
Those grievously wounded warriors beyond saving all transformed into radiant heroic spirits and flew to the shining temple atop the Summit of the Holy Mountain.
The dream ended amid their hearty laughter.
When Meng Chao slowly woke and returned to the real world, he discovered that dozens of enormous pyres had been erected around the Wounded Soldiers Camp.
The priests of the Great Horned Legion were smearing grease over the pyres and adding fuel.
Several pyres had already been lit. Blazing flames surged skyward, leaping nearly a hundred cubits high like brilliant beacons.
Who knew what Combustion Improver the priests had added to the pyres? As they burned, they crackled and popped, occasionally spewing multicolored flames that gathered in midair into the shapes of ferocious beasts baring fangs and brandishing claws.
When Meng Chao narrowed his eyes and looked carefully toward the centers of the pyres.
He saw that the crisscrossed stacks of wood were stuffed full of grotesquely shaped corpses.
The most severely wounded among the wounded had all died during the night.
Perhaps the Ancient Dream Saintess had fulfilled their final wishes within the dream, letting them know that their destination was not a dark abyss, but an eternal battlefield and feast.
At last, they could leave this world of pain and chaos with hearts content, flying into the embrace of the Great Horned Rat God.
According to the burial rites of the High-Level Orcs.
For warriors slain in fierce battle, the more wounds their corpses bore and the more gruesome they looked, the more their valor and glory were proven.
If they had not died miserably enough.
Respected elders of the clan, or peerlessly fierce experts, often had to damage the corpses one more time.
But the corpses of