The forest behind them still smoked and stank of blood, but the danger had passed.
Cleanup was brutal, but fruitful.
Ant chitin was sturdy and enchanted by nature, ideal for armor once processed. Their cores pulsed with mana dense enough to sell for a noble's ransom. The Queen's heart alone was likely worth more than a duchy. There were rumors among the mercs already. Whispers of gold, commissions, and early retirements.
The Thousand Company would walk into Fort Blackthorn not just as survivors.
But as legends.
Wealthy legends.
The scouts ahead had confirmed the approach. Only another half-day's march stood between them and the fortified city in the north, nestled in the cold cliffs beyond the Reaper Forest. The Duchess Mary of Jade Blackthorn had already sent riders to prepare for their arrival.
Which was good.
Darin was ready for a proper roof, a proper bath, and maybe, a week of not being stabbed, poisoned, or set on fire.
