The wounded rested their backs against trees and tended to their wounds as the generals looked at each other in satisfaction. Many hobs showed exhaustion on their faces, but it was only to be expected since they suddenly received [Steel Skin] after abusing their combat skills during the fight with Pontya's forces.

Not many casualties were counted, but the majority of the red hobs had been heavily injured due to their recklessness. However, thanks to their nature, similar to their fight-addicted leader, they were showing each other's wounds with great pride, laughing over them as if there was some kind of joy in it. Even the ones whose skin had been charred did not seem regretful about their situation at all.

Slung at the head of everyone else was no different. His body was covered in blood both from the enemy and himself, a glorious display of ferocity during battle. It was to be noted that out of every hobgoblin, the one with the most kills on fight had been Slung. The leader did take pride in his strength, after all.

"You didn't tell me you could share more skills." Valta slapped Thom's arm with a serious face.

"I thought they would be exhausted and lose easily if I shared any other." He smiled in return. "The most efficient use of the B-level skill-sharing is to apply it momentarily, after all."

"You could have given them something else from the start."

"Well, what's done is done." Thom shrugged and looked at his troops. "Now that they don't have [Steel Skin] anymore, Skill Master, share [Troll's Regeneration] for ten minutes with every nearby linked soul."

As soon as his words fell, the wounds on every hobgoblin began to quickly regenerate. Surface wounds like small cuts and bruises healed first, then the bigger ones began to slowly close themselves. Broken bones and burn marks would take several days to cure, but those who had suffered such severe injuries would not need to return to battle any time soon. Many would see it as a shame, but it would be better for them to remain alive rather than to die pridefully, or at least Thom thought so.

Since not many of the red hobgoblins would participate in the next battle, they could sit back and rest for as long as they needed to recover. The next battle would take place at the next day's dawn.

"It's too cold..." They heard someone moan with a pained voice. Erina was inside the tent, sitting beside a fire, with her knees tucked up and her nose red. She was visibly suffering from the sharp drop in temperature, which apparently hadn't happened in several decades.

"I thought the Clawgold clan lived in a snowy peak." Valta couldn't help but comment as she saw the girl's sorry state.

"I've been away for long!" Erina retorted. "Besides, I wasn't always like this. Damn this useless demon, I should have picked eating dirt over eating this..." She touched her chest with a regretful face, her teeth clackering.

"Anyway, I think we're more than ready for the next assault." Thom showed a wide grin. "Miel must have cowered from seeing the reports on today's battle. I imagine that prick acting all mighty in front of his servants and then crying as soon as he's alone. Wish I could see that shit."

"Don't get cocky, you." Suu lightly tapped his sides. "There's still a long long way. You're acting very mighty for someone whose army just retired from the battlefield."

"Oho." Thom smiled back at the girl. "Don't you know that it's best to retire to strike stronger next time? We can't really use a bunch of corpses, you know?"

"I'm still thinking we could've breached the wall today~."

"That wouldn't have been nearly as impressive. We need to torture Miel as much as we can before he dies."

"Eh, eh." She lightly jabbed at him a few times. "Don't jinx us. That's the kind of thing arrogant generals say in the books before their army gets fucked. We don't want that, now do we?"

"Superstition doesn't go with you." He snickered and slapped the top of her head, throwing her hair into a whole mess.

The hours passed as Djkavan and the crystal girl checked the state of every wounded hobgoblin. Many of them had already fallen asleep by the time the healers got to them, but they would not be nagged about something unavoidable. In the end, little but first-aid was applied, and only a handful of hobs actually underwent healing by Djkavan's hand. Of course, all of them profusely denied the crystal girl's help after she explained the side effects of worshipping a deity and receiving help from another.

Between mindless chatter to pass time as they tended to different wounds, the crystal girl came to know something that opened her eyes to her past mistakes.

"Aguur-Nilan has children, you say, Miss Djkavan?"

"Didn't you know?" The older woman raised her eyebrows. "Aguur-Nilan, in his fervor, married the great god Anphatos, parent to the sun, a soul made of fire. They birthed Nagur, the god of death, product of the pestilence that was brought by his father. I believe it was at a time in which Phatos was at war with the great goddess of the skies, Ladai-Saras. Anphatos might have come to Aguur-Nilan for aid, and well, his condition might have been ambitious, keke." She laughed as she closed up a deep cut.

"I see. For many years I thought the two gods had formed only a bond of mutual interest, not of love. I have been illuminated. I thank you, Djkavan." The crystal girl bowed shortly. "It seems I must learn again the ways of the gods before I act."

"There is much to know. All I have learned, I have seen from the books of the humans, read through the lens of magic. History is deeply fascinating once you dive deep into it, and for someone as short-lived as myself, it feels like gaining a few years to read about such a distant past, keke."

"The past... That time feels very faraway. I didn't expect there to be any record of it." A tone of melancholy surfaced in the girl's voice. "Anphatos and Aguur-Nilan... So the sky must have lost the war."

"Oh, dear. Nagur was not the only son of the grotesque father of pestilence. Although forgotten by history and little is spoken of them, many others were birthed, be it together with Phatos, or with another. The Savage Hunt is a good example, a god which we adore and rest our fates on. These little devils you call goblins are no different, no. As part of the mishaps of this world, they are supported by Aguur-Nilan, who they adore. This might be the reason for why my spells are not causing any harm to them." The orc slowly stood up, walking away from the tent she was in.

The crystal girl followed closely by, curious about the stories that the orcish woman told. Without being too shy or too close, she asked in an inquisitive tone: "Do you perhaps know about mistress Periphia?"

"How wouldn't I!" Djkavan hit the ground with her cane. "Every human we stripped of their possessions had a damn book talking about that woman. It was always the same one, for worse. We ended up using them as fuel for our campsites at the times of hunt."

"Did you happen to read any of them?"

"Ah yes, the first time I read it, it was quite interesting. It spoke of the endeavors of the goddess to save the puny humans, to save them from the destruction that they brought upon themselves by provoking the god of death. Yes, Nagur. It would seem... humanity once fought against such fearsome enemy, though I'm not concerned by the stupidity of them."

Djkavan turned in a corner and went inside a tent, where a burly hobgoblin laid down with arms behind his head. The crystal girl recognized that man as Slung, but as if he was not there, she kept trying to pry into the orc's knowledge as if to fill in the gaps of five thousand years of mindless living.

Without eyes, she eyed the older woman. "How did they save themselves? I am interested in the race from which Miss Erina descends."

"Miss Erina?" Djkavan sat beside the hobgoblin, who opened one eye to look at her. "Why not mention Lord Thom or Miss Suu, girl?"

"They're not human." The crystal girl replied. "Lord Thom is less than that. Miss Suu is more than that."

"Harsh words." Djkavan checked the wounds on Slung's body, who barely gritted his teeth as she pulled open his slits of open skin. "But well, it is fair. In the end, Periphia passed her power to a great human heroe, giving him championship in the form of a flaming sword. The champion was strong, yes, but his wits made him the first true monarch. With the support of Periphia, humans could resist the curse of the undead, and Nagur could be put to rest. However, firstly, they needed to fulfill Perihpia's request."

"What could a goddess need from mere humans?"

"Well, the book worships the goddess so, and hence there are no actual reasons written for her support." She applied salve on the man's wounds very calmly. "But it is said that the champion employed forces from the sons of Anphatos, and amidst the chaos battled the angels storming from the heavens to finally grant liberty to humanity. The book says it was him who closed the gates to heaven. That same champion then demolished the hordes of undead with the holy power of Periphia, but lost tragically against Death itself, Nagur."

"None of that makes sense." The girl shook her head. "The fabrications of mortals have always been hard to comprehend. Demons working with humans is inconceivable, they despised all of which spawned from the elven, who served their enemy. And that champion, a mere human could not close the gates of Ladai-Saras, not even Periphia herself could have done it. I see they're not a trustworthy source."

"Oh well." Djkavan snickered, readying a needle tied to a string. "Best I know is mending, so don't pay attention to my ramblings."

Shack!

"Achk!"

The red hobgoblin finally let out a sound as the needle quickly went through one side of his injury and came out of the other. He bit on the grip of his sword as the orc began stitching his wound, which would take enough time to bore an observant like the crystal girl. She sighed without lungs and turned on her spot, heading outside of the tent.

Her sight was only shortly set on the sky, but it was enough to notice the dark veil of clouds covering everything above their heads. Without a body she could not feel the cold, but the shivering soldiers in the camp made her notice that the temperature had shifted. Her body felt even less real than usual.

"There is nothing that can be done." She closed her palm. "Periphia and Nagur... Were they fighting over the right to steal humanity from Ladai-Saras' hand?"

Soon, before her thoughts could go any further, gasps and slight sounds of fright began filling up the air. She didn't need to turn to see the noise was coming from the soldiers beside her, but curiosity got the best of her and she ended up looking at their terrified faces, looking up at the same sky she was admiring a minute ago.

Her sight returned upwards, and at first, no particular thing caught her attention. She lacked understanding for the reason of the hobgoblins' surprise, until it dawned on her that their short lives had not even surpassed the teens.

"I see..." She mumbled. "So many of these... But it's a rare sight. I guess they might enjoy it, if it's the first for them."

As her thoughts faded, white spots fluttered down slowly towards the ground, like ash that had frozen in time. The monsters extended their hands to let the small droplets touch their red skin, only to notice it melted into water shortly after contact.

A few seconds was enough for the intensity to augment. Not much after, mounds of white, pure snow formed on the dead cold soil, covering the land and the faces of the soldiers after the battle. Djkavan came out with a wondered expression, almost confused, feeling the chill of the air.

"It's snow." the orcish woman whispered. "In this place?" Bewilderment surfaced on her shimmering eyes. "By the hunt... Only once before had I seen this land white. It must me a signal from the gods."

"Yes." The crystal girl nodded. "It's quite an oportune element of strategy." She whispered.