Having successfully completed the rendezvous, everyone in the Fifth Army breathed a sigh of relief. The past seven days had simply held too many twists and turns.
As the most eye-catching cub, Hudson had drawn plenty of attention the moment he entered the allied camp. However, most eyes were focused on Young Bear. For Hudson, the lucky fellow, people felt more envy and jealousy.
Those were normal reactions and had not risen to the level of "hatred," which greatly relieved Hudson. It proved that he did not have a knack for attracting hostility.
There was more than one thing to be happy about. The allies who had gone with Count Pierce for treatment last night had all returned as well.
Hudson could not help but marvel: high-ranking priests really were incredible! They could reattach missing arms and legs, then send people straight out fully recovered. It was absurdly powerful.
He did not know whether it was an illusion, but Hudson vaguely sensed that these people's vitality had declined considerably. Still, having all their limbs restored made losing a few years of lifespan worthwhile.
Privately, Hudson made a decision as well: unless there was absolutely no alternative, he would not seek treatment from priests. Better yet, he should avoid getting injured altogether. Priestly healing was indeed astonishing, but it burned through one's life!
No wonder knights had such wildly polarized lifespans. A single serious injury cost them several years of life, so those who frequently went to war naturally did not live long.
Everything was kept simple on the battlefield. Naturally, there was no welcoming banquet; a military conference took its place. The kingdom's nobles were clearly practical people and did not bother with flashy nonsense.
As a mid-level officer, Hudson was fortunate enough to attend the military conference. Only, his