The uneventful morning in the Rosalin region arrived as the first rays of sunlight touched the surface of the Qiusangze River. Although the rolling hills in the distance were still shrouded in a thin layer of morning mist, the woods beyond echoed with crisp birdsong. The scene was so peaceful and tranquil that it was hard to believe a battle for life and death had taken place here just one night earlier.
That would have been difficult to believe if not for the battered wagons and the corpses of the monsters scattered around the camp, lying exposed to the cold morning wind.
There were already far fewer monster corpses around the camp than there had been during the night. Brando had ordered the cleaners under Naxin to bury the excess bodies in the nearby woods, leaving only seven or eight that were still relatively intact.
After all, having more than a hundred monsters die here would have been far too conspicuous. And if Rosalin's knights found them, there would be no way to explain it. Naxin had only thought of this afterward. He had originally intended to use the matter as a topic of conversation, but then he issued a gag order, strictly forbidding his men from telling anyone what had happened that night.
He had little faith in the scoundrels and desperadoes under him. Still, when their own lives and livelihoods were at stake, their heads worked perfectly well.
Those who had fled the previous night were also gradually found and brought back. Some of their bodies were discovered on the shoals of the Qiusangze River, actually not far from the camp. They had been caught and torn apart by the monsters before they had even run a few hundred meters.
A few had managed to flee farther, but