Miguel woke up the next day in the mansion. The morning sun gently streamed through the windows, illuminating the room with a golden light. For a moment, he wished it was all just a dream, a nightmare from which he was waking. But as he moved, he felt the pain in his body, reminding him of the battles he had fought the previous day.
He remembered everything that had happened: the beastmen's assault, the mercenaries' destruction, and Thomas's death. Sorrow filled his heart, and he rose slowly, feeling the weight of exhaustion and responsibility.
As he stood, John, one of the young servants of the mansion, appeared at the door. He called out to a guard, announcing that Miguel was awake. John entered the room with a look of relief and concern. He saw Miguel sitting on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor, his gaze partially downcast. Miguel's expression reflected the pain and exhaustion of all he had been through.
“Good morning, my lord,” John said, trying to keep his voice steady.
Miguel lifted his eyes, trying to find strength in the young servant’s words. “Where is Ricardo?” he asked, his voice heavy with concern.
John hesitated for a moment before answering. “He is being cared for by the healers, my lord. He is gravely injured but still alive. They are doing everything they can to help him.”
Miguel felt a wave of relief mixed with worry. Knowing Ricardo was alive gave him a spark of hope, but he knew his uncle’s condition was still critical. The responsibility of leading and protecting his people weighed on his shoulders, but he couldn’t help but worry about those close to him.
“I need to see him,” Miguel said, determination returning to his eyes.
“Of course, my lord,” John replied, stepping forward to help Miguel stand. “The healers said he is in the main hall, where they can better care for him.”
Miguel stood with John's help, feeling every muscle protest. He knew the path ahead would still be full of challenges, but Ricardo's survival gave him the strength to continue. As he left the room, his mind was already focused on the next steps, the difficult decisions he would need to make to ensure the safety and future of his barony.
The weight of leadership and the reality of war were still present, but with unexpected allies and renewed hope, Miguel was ready to face whatever came. The battle of the previous day was just a chapter in the long journey ahead. And, with each step, he was determined to do his best for his people and those who depended on him.
Miguel walked with John to the main hall. Upon entering, he was greeted by the sight of several lined-up beds, each occupied by wounded barony soldiers being treated. The smell of medicinal herbs and bandages was strong in the air, mixed with the sounds of groans and murmurs from the injured. Even after a day, the number of wounded was still great, and the atmosphere was one of continuous work and relentless care.
Miguel watched the healers working attentively. He was surprised to see several beastmen among them, assisting the human healers. The cooperation between the two races was something he had never seen before, and it brought a feeling of gratitude and respect. The beastmen moved with grace and efficiency, their healing knowledge complementing the human healers' skills.
He anxiously searched for Ricardo among the wounded. When he finally found him, he saw that Ricardo was lying in a bed, still unconscious. Ricardo's face was pale, but his breathing was steady and calm. Miguel approached, feeling a wave of relief seeing his uncle alive.
“How is he?” Miguel asked the nearest healer, his voice laden with concern.
The healer, a beastman with soft fur and gentle hands, looked at Miguel and replied in a calm tone, “He is recovering well, my lord. His wounds have been treated, and he is just sleeping now. He needed to rest.”
Miguel let out a sigh of relief, feeling a huge weight lifted from his shoulders. He thanked the healer with a nod. “Thank you. This means a lot to me.”
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The healer nodded back and returned to his work. Miguel stayed by Ricardo’s side for a few moments, watching his uncle sleep. The sight of Ricardo alive and recovering brought him much-needed comfort after the horrors of battle.
Determined to check on the city, Miguel turned to John. “I need to go and see the city,” he said, his voice firmer now.
“Of course, my lord,” John responded promptly. He helped Miguel walk out of the hall and to the stable where the horses were kept.
In the stable, John chose a strong and calm horse for Miguel. Carefully, he helped the baron mount. Miguel, still feeling the pain and fatigue in his body, accepted the help with gratitude. Once on the horse, he held the reins firmly, feeling a bit more prepared to face whatever came next.
“Take care of Ricardo and the other wounded,” Miguel told John before leaving. “I will return soon.”
John nodded. “Yes, my lord. We will be here.”
Miguel looked around once more, taking in the sight of the hall turned into an infirmary, before guiding the horse towards the exit. He knew he needed to see the city, understand the extent of the damage, and start planning the next steps.
Riding through the streets of the city, the sight before him was a stark contrast to what it was before. The streets, once vibrant and full of life, were now marked by the signs of the recent battle. He saw some beastmen and surviving soldiers of the barony, many of them still with tired eyes and weary faces, but with a determination that seemed unwavering.
As he moved slowly, he waved to some soldiers who greeted him respectfully. The looks of recognition and gratitude on their faces touched him deeply. He knew these men had fought bravely and that many of them had lost friends and comrades in the battle.
Miguel continued his ride, absorbing the scene around him. The houses and buildings showed the damage from the battle, some with destroyed walls, others with collapsed roofs. But there were also signs of reconstruction: soldiers and beastmen working together to remove debris and repair what they could.
Turning a corner, he spotted Arthur, who was giving orders to some soldiers. Arthur was clearly in command, his presence inspiring confidence in the men around him. He moved with purpose, gesturing and speaking clearly, ensuring that everyone knew what to do.
Miguel approached Arthur, guiding his horse carefully to avoid disrupting the ongoing work. He observed for a moment, seeing the efficiency and determination with which Arthur led. It gave him a sense of comfort, knowing he had competent people by his side.
He stopped the horse close to Arthur, still without speaking. He wanted to observe a bit more, to absorb the situation and understand what was being done. He knew that reconstruction and reorganization were essential for the barony’s survival and that every detail mattered.
Arthur noticed Miguel’s presence and turned, offering a tired but sincere smile. “My lord,” he said with a respectful nod.
Miguel returned the smile, feeling a wave of gratitude for the man who was so dedicated to the barony. “Arthur, thank you for the hard work you’ve been doing. Without your leadership, we’d be in a much worse situation.”
Arthur shook his head modestly. “I should be thanking you, my lord. You fought for the barony and our homes. We couldn’t have asked for a better leader.”
Miguel was touched by Arthur’s words. He knew the struggle had been hard for everyone, but seeing the confidence of his men renewed his strength. “Thank you, Arthur. I heard you ordered some soldiers to go after the villagers and tell them they can return. That’s essential for our recovery.”
Arthur nodded. “Yes, my lord. We need everyone here to help with the reconstruction and to let people know it’s safe to come back home.”
Miguel sighed, thinking of all the sacrifices made. “How many died in the battle, Arthur?”
Arthur took a moment to respond, his somber gaze reflecting the gravity of the situation. “Of the 200 men of the barony, 120 were killed or injured. Of the mercenaries, we estimate there were about 700 enemies involved, of whom 600 were killed. But that is largely due to the last-minute assistance of the beastmen.”
Miguel nodded slowly, processing the losses. “It’s a great loss for all of us, but indeed, the help from the beastmen was crucial. I never imagined seeing beastmen fighting alongside our soldiers.”
Arthur agreed. “Neither did I, my lord. It’s something I never thought I’d see. But it’s a good change. Maybe the world is really changing.”
Miguel looked around, seeing the soldiers and beastmen working together. “Yes, the world is changing. And that change starts here, with this barony. We have the chance to build something new, something better.”
Arthur smiled, sharing Miguel’s optimism. “We will succeed, my lord. We will rebuild and be stronger.”
Miguel placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Where are the bodies of the fallen soldiers and mercenaries?”
Arthur looked into the distance for a moment before responding. “They are in a more remote location. We have arranged a place to prepare the burials and separate the enemy bodies. I will take you there if you want to see.”
Miguel nodded, knowing it was important to pay his respects to the fallen. “Yes, please. I want to see.”
Arthur gestured for Miguel to follow him. Together, they started heading to the location where the bodies were being prepared, their presence bringing a sense of leadership and care that the soldiers and beastmen around appreciated. The road ahead was full of challenges, but with everyone united, Miguel felt they could overcome any obstacle.