In Orianna's makeshift kitchen, Henry ate a simple meal of hot porridge and dried meat. The food was rather crude for a Baron, but in this frozen wasteland, it was invaluable.
Dressed in a heavy fur coat, gloves, and a hat, Henry stepped out of the warm tent. The first rays of the morning sun and a bone-chilling wind greeted him.
He took a deep breath, letting the icy air pass through his mouth and throat to fill his lungs. He then exhaled slowly, feeling his own tenacious vitality.
Henry was surprised at how quickly his stamina was recovering.
He had recovered from a battle of that intensity in just one night—something that would have been unthinkable before.
By now, some soldiers in the camp had already begun their day's activities.
Some were maintaining their gear and checking their weapons for significant wear, while others were tending to the warhorses, feeding and grooming them.
