With the fight over, the soldiers went around helping those injured in the fight. Their skills and advantage in numbers helped them avoid fatalities, but it's far from a flawless victory, with a lot of them injured pretty badly.

  That said, considering the odds, their victory couldn’t have gone much better. The weight of an orc’s arm was enough to render whatever armor the soldiers had on useless, and knock the breath off their lungs at best, or crack some bones while rattling their insides at worst. Thus, it wouldn’t have been much of a surprise if some lost their life.

  Also, the injuries the soldiers suffered was nothing that’d last. In their midst is a priest dedicated to the divine, who is now running around casting their arts.

  The divine art of souls could call upon one’s souls to encourage their body to heal. Though the body would quickly become tired in the process, now that the fight is over, it’s nothing but a blessing.

  “Look for survivors!” William ordered his men.

  Other than the wounded soldiers, the villagers also needed help. While the pileup had taken a lot of lives and most of those fortunate enough to survive the crash had been devoured by orcs, there are still some signs of survivors among the sea of corpses.

  Those that survived the crash and went into hiding—holding their breaths as the orcs scoured for food. Those that held their terror at their throat as they witnessed loved ones taken by the monsters. They lived, but broken in both body and mind.

  “Over here! Someone is under here!” One soldier called out for help.

  Robert heard the call and rushed over to a wagon, broken in and on its side. Underneath, he could see a survivor clawing for help, pinned underneath the wooden vehicle.

  He arrived at the wagon along with a few others and they all immediately pushed the vehicle to tip it back upright and the man’s body was freed, it came under a torch’s light. The poor man had swelled horribly on some parts of his body and was visibly flattened on some others. There was no doubt whatever’s beneath the flesh has been thoroughly crushed.

  “Priest! Need urgent help here!” The soldiers helping the man called out, but the priest had to tend to a lot of urgent injuries. “Hang in there! We’ll save you still!” They called out to the man to keep him conscious just for a breath longer.

  The soldiers desperately tried to do what they could. They pressured open wounds on the man’s body and tried to align his limbs to its proper position. But soon enough, the man went still and the light left his eyes.

  Seeing this, Robert let out a defeated sigh. He ran his palm over the man’s face to close his eyes and made the call. He’s seen more than his fair share of men leaving this way but his heart can’t help but feel a twinge seeing an innocent villager dying this way.

  A shame it is, but they had no time to linger. The soldiers along with Robert immediately left the still body and went off to search for other survivors. If they couldn’t save that man, then surely someone else.

  Though unfortunately, it was the same everywhere else. Most of those that survived had not only scrapes and bruises but broken bones and ripped off limbs. Not many were fated to see the morning sun rise.

  That was when one soldier noticed a boy standing over a woman. Such a small boy, must have been no more than 5 years old. Seeing the boy on his own two feet after the mountain of gory bodies he had seen so far brought some hope to the soldier’s heart, and he quickly went to check on him.

  “You alright, boy?” he asked—shouting from a distance.

  When the boy was brought to his torch’s light, he started to inspect him. His body is covered in cuts and bruises with the worst being the wound on his shoulder that went until someway down his chest. “You’re injured!” The soldier exclaimed.

  Dropping the torch in his hand, he immediately grabbed the small boy’s sleeve. His clothes had been torn along with his flesh, and the soldier ripped the sleeve right off. With the ripped piece of clothes, he began bandaging the boy’s open wound to the blood running from it.

  “Gale!” Sounded a voice from a distance that prompted the boy to turn his head.

  Robert was rushing towards the boy when he saw him. He was the first in his mind when he heard that his village had been attacked and has been desperately searching everywhere for the boy—hoping to never find him.

  Though he was worried, he let out a breath of relief when he reached him. His body has wounds all over but nothing was all too serious. If a soldier had begun treating him, that means nothing is too grave to warrant a priest’s attention.

  Then suddenly, Gale had blood trickling down from his nostrils.

  It gushed out like a stream, draining the life out of him, and soon after, his sights went blurry before darkness took over as his body went limp and fell to Robert’s arms.

  “Gale! Hang in there, boy!” Robert called out to the boy while slapping his cheeks lightly to keep him awake.

  “Priest! Over here!” Called out another voice. “How’s the boy doing?” He asked as he kneeled in front of Robert with Gale in his arms. It’s William.

  “His breaths are faint.”

  Soon enough, the priest arrived and went to check on the boy’s condition and shook his head to the other two. “The boy’s lost too much energy. His body is too tired to heal. We must let him rest.” Though his divine arts could entice the soul to hasten the body’s recovery, the body had to heal itself, and it can’t do so without any stamina.

  Robert paled at the news. He was hopeful for the boy’s recovery seeing that the commanding officer had prioritized his healing, but it turns out there was nothing even divine arts could do. His mind then flashed back to when he found the boy unconscious with Vivian, causing his face to scrunch up.

  “This woman is still alive,” The priest then called out.

  Robert turned to look at him and found the priest kneeling beside a familiar woman.

  Gale’s mother, Alise was right there but in his panic Robert hadn’t even realized until someone else pointed her out to him. And once he realized who it was, he immediately began to ask for the priest’s power “Please save her!”.

  The priest then prayed to the Goddess to ask for her help. With a faint glow, the scrapes and bruises all over her body began to heal and once the light faded, most of her flesh wounds were no longer visible. One thing that remains though was her shoulder that remains dislocated, which the priest snapped back to its original position.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Seeing Alise mostly recovered, Robert let out a sigh of relief, but the priest still had some bit of bad news to share.

  “Most of her surface wounds have healed, but I can feel that some of her bones are still fractured, and her insides are still somewhat roughed up.”

  “What? Why? Can you not heal her?”

  “Not any more, like the boy, she’s now too tired to—”

  “NOOOOO!”

  Out of nowhere, the priest’s words were cut off by cries and wails that could be heard all throughout the crash site. The larger part of the caravan not involved in the chain accident had regrouped with the soldiers and finally saw what had happened to their fellow villagers.

  Those that worked alongside them just earlier in the day were now lifeless on the ground, broken beyond recognition. Many lives were lost and some would be disabled to live with either their body or their mind broken beyond any repair. Still, their life would have to go on.

  Soft thumps of leather against the stone castle floor could be heard echoing around the crowded halls of Duraint’s castle.

  A few days after the incident, William’s men had finished scouting the forest and confirmed no other orcs were around and they had returned to Duraintsburgh.

  Around him are guards who stopped to salute him as he passed by and officers going about doing their tasks. When he arrived in front of his lord’s office, he knocked on the wooden door and announced his arrival.

  “Sir, William Hilsberg here to report.”

  “Come in.” said his lord from the other side of the door.

  As soon as his lord permitted his entry, he made his way inside. After him, Robert then went through the door. Inside, they found two familiar faces among some others. Their lord, Vincent Duraint is seated behind his desk while an officer, his marshal, is standing on the other side of the desk.

  The marshal’s dark hair has been cut short and blunt for practicality. Her face is slightly elongated with a slightly rough tanned skin due to constant exposure to the sun. Despite that, her visage is still very feminine with succulent lips and a small nose. Then, there’s her eyes—dark as the night with a sharp, mean look to them as if glaring at the two newcomers.

  She’s donned in plate armor with a gentle contour on her chest which gives it more of a curvature compared to ones worn by men. Though it’s no doubt an apparel of war, some parts like the shoulder had wavy ornaments–shaped artistically, as if metallic wings are draped around her upper torso.

  Underneath her breastplate is a placard connected to a fauld that flares decoratively in the shape of a dome to mimic a court bubble skirt. Though the steel placard only goes to her hips, further below that are cloth designed with fine and intricate embroidery that conveys ladylike elegance in contrast to the cold steel she has on.

  Her armor, while not only practical, also oozes elegance and class as an art work, making it eye-catching even on the chaotic field of battle. But most notable about her is what’s not covered by the armor.

  One of her arms, instead of the shine of steel, is covered in a pitch black color. Focusing on it, one could see patterns that move about slowly—defined under the contrast of sunlight from the window and the shadow it casts. It’s as if the veins under her skin are crawling about.

  Lady Julianne Augustine, Vincent Duraint’s marshal. Though despite her high position and noble name that has both been granted to her by her lord, she is more commonly known by her moniker—the War Goddess.

  Given her high position, both William and Robert stopped to briefly salute until given the order to be at ease. Now relaxed, Robert then closed the door behind him and stepped closer to the desk in the center of the room, staying a step behind William.

  “You have returned,” said Lord Duraint to his newly arrived officer.

  “My lord! I have successfully finished the task you gave me, and am here to report.”

  “I’ve heard of what happened. 130 casualties in Carmul with some injured and a dozen had to be taken care of in the temple. Our forces had several suffered injuries.” He then stopped briefly to address the man that once served under his banner. “I’m sorry, Robert”

  “My lord, you have spared your force for my home. If not for what you’ve done, nothing would be left of Carmul. I am nothing but grateful for you.”

  Vincent replied with a nod.

  “My lord. I have one other thing to report.” William said in a more serious tone.

  “And what would that be?” Vincent asked as he leaned closer on his table.

  “I have found a child blessed by the spirits.”

  “The spirits you say?” As a duke, Vincent knew of the handful of profiles that had been blessed, or taken a liking to by a spirit—one of which is actually currently under his charge.

  He turned his head to the woman in the room, and she met his gaze. She then tapped her breastplate lightly with her gauntlet, and a short moment after, a small creature peeked their head from under her armor. It’s an earth fairy.

  The war goddess is fortunate enough to have been blessed by an earth fairy when most humans would go about without ever seeing a spirit all throughout their life.

  To be blessed by more than one fairy is a privilege reserved usually only for the elves who live their life close to nature.

  Such an occurrence has never occurred in history and is so unbelievable that Vincent had to doubt both his ears and one of his most trusted subordinates from whose mouth he heard the news from.

  “My lord. I have seen it with my own two eyes. The boy had fought and prevailed against a handful of orcs.”

  Vincent then shifted his gaze to Robert. “You know about this?”.

  “My lord, the boy is under my tutelage. I have taught him the sword since last year. Though I have spent a lot of time with him, it was never brought to my attention.”

  After hearing his men’s report, Vincent then stood up from his seat and went towards the window behind him. Gazing out the glass pane, he could see a faint reflection of himself, smiling, unable to hide his excitement upon hearing this report.

  Despite his advanced age and the continuous expectation around him, the lord of Duraint has yet to produce an heir. After seven wives, none had been able to bear his child. Deemed incompetent, he started thinking of adopting a child into his family, but he was very picky. The child of the duke has high expectations to live up to afterall. Thus, a criteria needed to be fulfilled.

  “So? Where is he?”

  Robert then shifted his gaze towards William. A few ago, William had intended to bring Gale back to the city and present the boy to his lord. But Robert had pleaded for him to delay this decision.

  It wasn’t long ago that the boy was separated from his mother due to the ape’s attack on the forest. It hurts his conscience too much knowing that the mother and son would once again be separated. Possibly forever now.

  “He had fought a handful of orcs all by himself. I’m afraid he was in no condition to be immediately presented to you, my lord.” Said William.

  Robert heaved a relieved breath. Though somewhat unwilling, William gave Robert his word to delay presenting the boy to his lord in consideration of the veteran’s plight.

  “I see.” Said Vincent as he shifted his eyes to look at William’s reflection on the window pane. With that gaze alone, William should have caught on that his lord has noticed his lies. “I will see this child for myself.”

  “My lord, I’m afraid that would be hard to schedule during harvest.”

  That is true. His domain is now undergoing harvest, and a lot of places are still holding festivals and are having their taxes collected. He needs to be in his office to oversee everything.

  Even now, a stack of documents are piled up on his desk, because unlike most of those who rule over a domain, Vincent personally attends to his domain’s many needs. There’s a shortage of men he can trust with the more critical tasks.

  “So be it. Thirty years I have waited for such an individual. I can wait for a few more days.” He said, as if mostly convincing himself to not misplace his priorities. “Julianne.” He then called out to the war goddess.

  “My lord.” She said—turning all her attention to her lord.

  “After the festival is over, you are to personally ride to Carmul and escort this boy blessed by the spirits to me.”

  Though Vincent doesn’t know why William had lied to him, he trusts the man enough to know he wishes him no harm. That said, because he doesn’t know why William had lied to him, he wanted someone else for the job.

  “My lord! It shall be done.” She replied.