To give the Fire Giant a little "healing," and also plant a long-term set of eyes, Horace made a decision:
"Those monks and scholars in the army who learned flame incantations by studying the giants' fire during the war-you will be stationed long-term at the border outposts near the giants' territory and the great cauldron."
As for their assignment, everyone understood: he was sending a group who knew their stuff to keep watch over the giants.
Finally, Horace rubbed his chin, as though remembering something, and added in a slightly peculiar tone:
"Oh, right. There seem to be a lot of 'hands' around Leyndell, and they look pretty distinctive... With so many of them, we can't have them constantly harassing trade routes and villages. The Mountaintops of the Giants have plenty of space anyway, and the environment is 'unique.' Exile them all... No, wait, 'relocate' them to the Mountaintops of the Giants."
He remembered those utterly nightmarish "hand monsters" from the game.
Since those distinctive little things were running rampant, he might as well put the Mountaintops of the Giants to use as a "waste disposal site."
Out of sight, out of mind. Perhaps they could even "exchange" survival tips with the other monsters here.
The arrangements came one after another at a dizzying pace.
Things had finally reached a stopping point.
Horace watched the postwar arrangements in the Mountaintops of the Giants gradually settle into place. Sir Gideon Ofnir and Serosh, who was gradually returning to his true nature as a "utility lion," could worry about Godfrey's army. As for his big brother...
Well, he was all grown up. Once he had played enough, he should be able to find his own way home.
Horace counted off the days on his fingers, and his heart suddenly lurched.
*Oh no!