The morning after the battle, a sense of euphoria hung in the air of Redmere. The villagers, their spirits buoyed by victory, gathered to celebrate their newfound strength. Marcus, weary but exhilarated, took a moment to reflect as he stood at the center of the village square.
Bright banners, hastily made from fabric scraps, fluttered in the gentle breeze, each one bearing the colors of their respective villages—Turnipton, Redmere, Greendale, and Windmere. They were a tapestry of unity, representing the bond forged in the heat of conflict. The sun shone brightly, casting golden rays upon the villagers as they shared food, laughter, and stories of bravery.
"Marcus!" Borin's voice broke through his reverie, bringing him back to the present. The man approached, a broad smile spreading across his scarred face. "I can't believe how we turned the tide! It was like we were an unstoppable force!"
