The thunderous cheers finally faded into silence in the dusk.
The exhausted farmers shouldered the last of the harvest and returned to the warmth of the town.
Only the Shatterrock Knights' camp remained in the fields. Bonfires drove away the marsh's chill and illuminated faces smeared with blood and mud.
They had won.
They had not only won the battle against the magical beasts, but also earned the respect of the subjects who had once seen them as bandits.
Ola sat beside a bonfire, carefully wiping the last traces of bear blood from his great axe with a piece of coarse cloth.
The Water Sac the boy had handed him lay at his feet. He did not drink from it again, only glanced down at it now and then.
In that moment, he felt as though something clear and pure had replenished his parched soul.
It felt better than downing an entire barrel of Dwarven ale.
The bustle of the camp abruptly quieted.
Veylin walked in, followed by Barrett and several guards.
They carried two heavy wooden barrels, and the rich aroma of ale immediately filled the air.
Veylin walked straight to the center of the camp.
"This is for the brave."
Ola rose, his short, stocky figure casting a broad shadow in the firelight.
Veylin looked somewhat slight before him, yet his presence was even stronger.
The Gray Marsh Baron took a sheet of parchment from inside his coat and unfolded it before the fire.
"This is the record of your military achievements over the past few days."
Veylin's fingertip passed over the lines of text.
"Seventy-two Swamp Boars slain, one hundred and fifteen Swamp Mongooses, and one third-tier Frenzied Swamp Bear... equivalent to three thousand four hundred merit points."
He raised his head, his gaze sweeping over every