The afternoon sunlight struggled through the thin mist peculiar to the fringes of Snake-Man Swamp, laden with the sickly sweetness of decay, casting patches of light and shadow through the woods.
The fresh scent of wood shavings filled the air, but what should have been an invigorating smell was mercilessly smothered by gun smoke drifting from farther away and the faint stench of rot from deep within the swamp.
"Scrape... scrape..."
The rough, steady rasp of sawing dominated this temporary logging site.
Driven by the corded arms of two burly workers, a massive two-man saw greedily gnawed at the base of a thick oak with its sharp teeth.
Wood shavings fluttered down like golden snowflakes with every powerful push and pull.
"Steady now. Keep it on the chalk line!"
A calm voice rang out, not loud, but clear enough to cut through the noise and remind the lumberjacks.
The speaker was Athos.
He now wore a coarse cloth shirt spattered with mud and wood shavings, its sleeves rolled to his elbows, exposing his sturdy forearms.
The armor and sword that had once marked him as an officer of the Minicia Kingdom were long gone, replaced by a short-handled axe polished to a gleam and tucked at his waist.
His gaze swept over each team of working lumberjacks, his face etched with weathering and a weariness that would not leave him.
He was no longer the captain who patrolled the walls and kept his people safe.
Now he was the foreman of this makeshift logging crew, supplying the Kingdom of Bagnia's Holy Crusade Army with timber for camps, fortifications, and its advance into the swamp.
"Over here, put your backs into it! You're almost through!"
Athos walked over to another large tree being sawn down and patted its trunk, feeling the