The assault persisted for hours. It felt like hundreds of birds swooped down to claim a few light snacks. I certainly chucked several dozen into empty carts. I even had to wrestle a couple after they managed to get past the barrage of spells and wrap their talons around an unlucky hunter.

Alana mitigated mana exhaustion by swapping attackers but we don’t have an army of master casters. I’d be amazed if half of our army have coefficients at or above three hundred. Their targets are large manabeasts that require large spells to bring down. I’d guess the casters are burning at least twenty units of mana per spell. That means they have ten shots each before they start to show noticeable effects of mana exhaustion. No more than twenty before they’re completely spent and useless in a fight.

If every spell resulted in a direct hit and a fatality, the math isn’t too bad but as stress mounts and people grow tired, their accuracy suffers. No one dies. Between Kierra, Geneva, and Bell, the most our army has to endure are a few scratches and bruises. Still, they are low on mana and exhausted.

That’s not enough to entitle them to a rest. After massive casualties, the flock stops attacking but they continue to circle above us, letting out the occasional shrill cry to remind us that they’re waiting. The commanders urge the army forward. According to Alana, the ones who attacked were the weaker members of the flock.

Too weak to secure enough food to fill their bellies. Like everywhere else, the stronger doomhawks prey on their weaker brethren. The fodder are underfed, which means they’re smaller and weaker than they shoulder be. Combined with their desperation, it’s no wonder they threw themselves to their deaths.

The remainder are stronger, smarter, and nowhere near as desperate. They will wait, tracking us through their territory, for the most opportune moment to strike. It’s not a prospect I can simply dismiss. If the main flock descends, the army will suffer heavy casualties. Therefore, it’s imperative that we don’t show weakness.

We have to put up a pretense of strength. So, despite something like a fifth of the army’s casters being too tired to walk and half of the rest too tired to throw another spell, we continue to march. The sky darkens quickly. Torches are lit and we continue to trek through the snow.

“There.”

Alana walks beside me near one of the wagons. I squint in the direction her finger is pointing. Since leaving the fort, we’ve been walking along a narrow path between two mountains. Well, comparatively narrow given the number of people squeezed onto it. The scenery has remained the same, towering mounds of stone and snow to either side, rising to a height I can’t make out. It’s finally changed. Up ahead, the path widens. Rather, it looks like someone carved into the nearby mountains to form a wide clearing, the sides covered by stone overhangs.

“Shelter created by armies long past. We’ll be camping there tonight.” She chuckles. “We’re lucky. No beasts to fight off for it this year.”

“That’s not enough rock to cover everybody.”

“The smaller armies will take cover under the overhangs. The more experienced armies will set up camp in-between. There’ll be shared dismantling and cooking stations. Easier to defend. There’s a high chance the smell of blood and meat will draw other predators but we don’t have to worry about anything too bad until we’re past the mountains.”

I find it ridiculous how ambivalent she is to the horrors of this whole situation. I have seen more death today than the rest of my life combined. Granted, they were monsters and my role was rather small, but my hands are still shaking a little. Can I be blamed with the amount of magic being slung around? Yet, she’s entirely comfortable. I’d dare to call her upbeat.

I wonder if it’s because, despite the carnage, everything is going as expected. She was prepared for a flock of giant, murderous birds. She’s expecting our camp to be ambushed so it’s nothing of consequence.

Victory certainly breeds a different kind of person.

Things proceed as Alana told me they would. We come to a halt. The smaller armies are directed to pitch their tents and bedrolls beneath the overhangs, protecting them from the still circling doomhawks. The three largest armies, led by Zachariah, the Devil, still don’t know his name, and Thomas, set up between them.

Pillars of ice are erected and tents are put up beneath them. In the middle of the camp, a large fire burns, holding back the bulk of the darkness. Several bare-chested men in fur-lined pants and heavy boots are gathering around it, each carrying several knives of varying sizes. Other members of the armies follow them with wagons loaded with corpses.

“Lou, is it fine if I raid your liquor stash?”

I eye my future wife. I adore her but you don’t mess with a woman’s drink. I know I’ll have to part with some of Howie’s goodies but each drop is like pouring liquid gold on trash. “How much?”

“The normal stuff.”

“Oh. You can have as much of that as you want.”

“Not too much. No one can afford to be drunk but it’ll be good to give them something for the nerves. Especially the acolytes. I noticed more than one of them is shaking. Saints preserve them, I don’t know why they’re even here. I may be at their level in skill but some of those idiots froze.”

“I know. I had to save one or two.”

She chuckles. “It was funny watching you wrestle birds. You did good work.” I can’t see her smile beneath her helm but her eyes give it away. “I hope you’re ready. This is only the beginning. Things will only get more intense from here on. I’ll be working you hard.”

Something in me tightens pleasurably. “Mm.”

Her blue eyes bore into me. Then she leans closer and whispers, “Pervert.”

“Really? Are you one to talk?” I whisper just as quietly.

She lets out a huff of air and straightens. Damn helmet is probably hiding her blush. “Well, we don’t have time for that either.”

“Sure?”

I can practically taste her hesitation and want. I love how transparent her desires have become. Unfortunately, something catches her attention before my leer can force a response. I inwardly curse my wife for her rare bout of bad timing even as I’m happy to see the elf jogging toward us. Her bow is in her hand and her quiver is noticeably empty.

The first thing she does after reaching us is an inspection for injuries. It’s nothing but a quick flick of her eyes but I know her habits. She may be hard on us but her cruelty is matched, if not exceeded, by her compassion.

Only once she confirms we are in good health does she allow herself to smile. She claps Alana on the shoulder before moving to my side, grabbing one of my arms. “Did you see me, dedia?”

Aw, does she want me to praise her? How can this savage woman be so cute? “I was working too but I did notice you brought the first two down.” Her range with a bow is insane.

Her smile widens at my acknowledgment. “The armies of the north work well. They lack strength but they are fearless and coordinated. They would not do terribly in the provinces, though I do not think they would appreciate the weather.”

“Hah! All these people know is cold. They’d melt under the summer sun. More importantly, did anyone try to steal your kills?”

“No. All forty-eight are accounted for, along with the arrows.”

Saints. She took almost fifty of them by herself. Was that a fifth of all the enemies? A sixth? Probably less but still a significant fraction. She really is a monster.

She presses against me harder, making me very aware of the prodigious chest against my arm. “Are you impressed?”

Ah. Fighting makes her horny. “Careful. Our commander says we don’t have time for that.”

Her eyes narrow as she turns to Alana. “Surely you do not expect me to remain chaste for the whole of this war? I will be the laughingstock of my family.”

I can feel the disbelief radiating from my future saint. “It sounds ridiculous but I think she’s telling the truth.” Knowing her family. “We’ll do it within reason, have the pets stand guard, and Rolly can make sure your reputation isn’t damaged.”

“Who said I’d be joining?” Alana asks with false offense.

It’s my turn to broadcast my disbelief.

She manages to hold my gaze for three whole seconds before looking away. “Get the corpses over to the crazy guys without shirts, along with a few hunters. They’ll take care of it tonight but we’ll have to dress our kills in the future and they can learn a few things. Make sure Geo gets a cut of the meat for our dinner.”

“Oh? What about bonding with the troops by giving up your privilege to share the common slop?”

She chuckles. “In Victory, we bond over blood. Besides, after meeting you, I don’t do common anymore.”