Phield slept for only two hours before suddenly jolting awake and springing out of bed.
He looked around the room before remembering that the battle was already over.
"Mmm…"
A soft murmur came from the bed beside his. Rosalia, now in her little girl form, lay sleeping peacefully beneath the blanket. The quilt rose and fell gently with her breathing, and every so often, she unconsciously licked her lips.
"Thanks to you. Get some proper rest."
Phield extinguished the candle and quietly walked out of the room.
Faint sobs echoed through the fortress.
Soldiers were not machines. The wounded wept from the pain of their injuries.
"I need to find a way to improve our medical capabilities, or recruit priests or Divine Chosen with healing abilities."
Committing the matter firmly to memory, Phield headed off to discuss the next steps with Ophelia.
"My Lord Phield, you're awake."
