He felt as if his energy was only increasing. With each stat gain, it was as if he was refreshed. It was as though he'd eaten a good meal, and drunk his fill. He felt as if he could have fought for hours upon hours in such a state. He held no fear of stopping.
The same was not true of his men, however. The sense that they'd had, that each line of men held soldiers of slightly increased strength, did not seem to be a falsity. There were more Third Boundary men and more Second Boundary men with every passing through. His troops were ragged, and those that were barely hanging on now seemed unable to go any further.
Jev had collapsed, needing the opportunity to rest, and Vagrin was leaning heavily on his shortsword. His breaths came rapidly, but it hardly seemed as if he was getting any air in with each of them. They could not have looked worse.
