Over the next few days, the Five-Party Alliance entered a relatively quiet period of preparations for war.
Morgott headed to Deeproot; Tanith returned to Volcano Manor to arrange the God-Devouring Serpent's deployment; Jerren busied himself drilling and integrating the troops; Ranni kept in contact with the Academy of Raya Lucaria, pushing the Golem project forward.
With the leaders all occupied, the soldiers naturally began to relax.
Tarnished did not mind. They had just fought a brutal battle, after all, and everyone needed time to catch their breath.
Although he had ordered them to "crack down on thieves," anyone with eyes could tell it was just for show-the patrols had increased, but their searches were perfunctory; the military police talked tough, but had no intention of actually arresting anyone.
And so, outside training hours, entertainment gradually became more common in camp.
At dusk, bonfires sprang up everywhere. Stormveil's soldiers brought out homemade tunes and sang old songs; the Redmane warriors preferred wrestling matches, usually wagering a cup of good wine; apprentices from the Academy of Raya Lucaria occasionally performed harmless little tricks, drawing rounds of cheers; even the Crucible Knights joined in late at night to share anecdotes from ancient times.
"Not to brag, but back in my day, I was..." Everyone knew that when someone said, "Let me be fair," they were about to take sides, and when someone said, "Not to brag," they were probably bragging.
"Whoa, that's amazing! You're a badass, brother!" The good news was that their listeners did not mind.
They were enjoying the atmosphere. The stories were just a bonus.
The soldiers sat together, chatting and boasting. Firelight played across faces young and weathered, their exhaustion temporarily banished as laughter echoed through the night.
Tarnished occasionally joined them. He put on no airs, could chat