After laughing for a while, the two stopped teasing Mais. Anyone who dared to swing a sword on the battlefield and take the initiative to lead a charge was a qualified warrior.
"Mais, let's divide the spoils like this: I take sixty percent, Fas takes twenty percent, and you take twenty percent. How does that sound?"
"That works. It's perfectly reasonable. Your bravery and elite troops were the key to victory."
Once all three had agreed, their personal butlers went together to tally the day's gains, preventing any unpleasantness later due to an uneven distribution.
Their retainers and officers were also counting the soldiers and serfs killed that day, as well as the wounded. The accompanying physicians and apothecaries bustled about like little bees.
Thomas and his son could clean and bandage a soldier's wounds in barely one or two minutes. They truly were well-trained physicians.
These soldiers had already received emergency treatment on the road. At the very least, their lives had been saved, but how long recovery would take depended on each individual's constitution.
The only thing Henry and the others could do was give the wounded something good to eat and help them regain their fighting strength as soon as possible.
The three men's dinner consisted of roast rabbit, cream bread, and hot chicken soup. Since they did not lack seasonings, it tasted quite good.
"Henry, what's wrong? What are you thinking about?"
Henry took a sip of chicken soup, and warmth immediately spread through his body. He replied, "I was thinking, the Half-Orc forces we encountered were all ordinary troops. If we ran into elite Armored Centaurs, how would we stop them?
"What about armored Minotaurs? Bear-people? I don't think our archers with bows and crossbows could deal effective damage unless we used Armor-Piercing Arrows as