The battlefield continued emptying while Kael stood atop the northern wall and watched the retreat with a growing sense of unease.
Goblins fled first, pouring across the scorched plains in disorganized masses. Orcs followed in tighter groups, occasionally shouting at the smaller creatures or shoving them aside whenever their paths crossed. The surviving trolls lumbered after them, some still burning and others carrying wounds severe enough that Kael had no idea how they remained upright.
None of them looked back. The goblin archers did not unleash a final volley, the orcs issued no challenge, and the trolls made no last furious attempt to reach the gates. They simply abandoned the fortress, leaving behind a silence that felt far stranger than the hours of constant screaming that had preceded it.
The burly climber rested both hands upon the pommel of his oversized sword and breathed heavily. "So...what now?"
