Five days have passed. Your army has been brought inside the walls, albeit under heavy supervision by the local Kroridian troops. Darin has begun to issue another set of censuses.
You're finally able to rest your aching bones in a real bed. It's heavenly. Months of constant marching and fighting have taken their toll on you. It's been brutal on your army, too. At least half of your wounded died over the past months. You dread reading the exact numbers.
It's strange. You expected Krorid to be hell. But it's… not. It feels like coming home.
Here, the people respect you. When you walk the streets, the Kroridian soldiers salute you. The people bow.
It seems as if you've been promoted to an almost mythic status among them.