By the stream, Hudson and his group were busy resting and washing up. The consecutive days of battle had left even these experts physically and mentally exhausted.
Compared to their previous gentleness and refinement, everyone was now filled with dense killing intent, making the temperature around them seem to drop.
As a commander who had campaigned north and south, Hudson had witnessed scenes of killing intent spilling over like this countless times.
After every major battle, this happened. Often, without even reading the battle report, he could roughly judge the results just from the murderous aura on the soldiers.
Without question, this murderous aura was no good thing. Even if it could intimidate the enemy, Hudson would rather they did not have it.
When the murderous aura grew too strong and invaded the mind, mental and physical collapse was common. Hudson had personally seen soldiers go mad after battle.
When troops rested after combat, it was not merely to recover their strength, but also to help the soldiers steady their minds and free themselves from the effects of their hostility.
Of course, most soldiers had no serious problems. Ordinary soldiers might have participated in the slaughter, but they had not personally killed many enemies.
This time was clearly different. The entire raiding party had only a little over two hundred men, yet their victories numbered in the hundreds of thousands.
Slaying a hundred or a thousand enemies had become commonplace. Anyone who had killed fewer than three digits' worth of Eaglemen was practically dragging the team down.
Affected by the murderous aura, everyone's tempers had become much fiercer. The slightest disagreement between comrades would lead directly to angry curses.
Just mediating internal conflicts had left Hudson overwhelmed, forcing him to halt the team and let them rest first.
"Archbishop Tyron,