Back in Frostvele, the festive atmosphere had been shaken by the sudden attack of the previous night. For a short time the celebration had stopped, and many soldiers had remained on alert.
However, Ethan did not allow fear to settle inside the fortress.He openly declared that the party should not stop.
"War will always be there," he had told them calmly. "But we can celebrate tomorrow."
"Yeahh!"
So the next day he ordered another celebration to be held.
Large fires were lit once again across the courtyard. Barrels of beer were rolled out, and fresh meat was roasted over open flames. The smell of grilled meat and strong alcohol filled the cold winter air.
Soldiers gathered everywhere.
Many of them still carried wounds from the recent battle, but their spirits were high.
One soldier lifted his mug toward Ethan with trembling hands.
"My Lord… if not for you, Frostvele would have fallen."
Another soldier beside him had tears in his eyes.
"We would all be dead right now."
