Amid the ruined walls of the White Wave Beach Royal Court, countless bonfires lay scattered like stars fallen to earth, lighting up the heavy night sky.
Leaping firelight played across mottled rammed-earth walls and the skeletal frames of collapsed felt tents, stretching and shrinking the shadows of the Blood-Clad Army soldiers, painting a rare scene of ease amid the post-battle ruins.
The soldiers removed their heavy refined-steel armor one after another. The armor struck the ground with soft clanks, shedding the dust and fatigue of battle along with it.
In twos and threes, they sat around the fires, gripping thick iron skewers threaded with great chunks of barbarian bull meat, turning them continuously over the licking flames.
Fat slowly seeped from the grain of the beef and dripped into the glowing coals with a sizzling hiss, scattering tiny sparks as a rich, heady aroma of meat mingled with smoke and spread in every direction.
These plump barbarian bulls were the fire bulls Donghu had previously used to smash into the army formation. Unable to shake the Blood-Clad Army in the slightest, they had instead all become food in the soldiers' bellies.
That tempting scent of meat rode the northern wind and stretched for a thousand li across the royal court's ruins, utterly sweeping away the lingering stench of blood and the oppressive heaviness after slaughter, replacing it with the hearty, vibrant air of mortal life.
The soldiers all wore unguarded, satisfied smiles, and the bonfires around which they sat were filled with boisterous life.
Some raised wineskins brimming with mare's milk wine, the skins making a glugging sound as they clinked together. They loudly recounted their finest moments on the battlefield—facing ten enemies alone, shooting through enemy chieftains with arrows—their words brimming with pride.
Others tore into the charred-on-the-outside, tender-within