When Huggesen returned to the Jackal Camp, the remaining priests had already been gathered, and the camp had reluctantly regained some order after a round of suppression. The Barbarian Soldiers killed by their own were being dragged out and thrown into various parts of the swamp, giving the entire camp a bloody stench.
The Master of Hunting opened the visor of his newly donned vanguard-level Power Armor, taking a delighted breath of the air filled with the scent of blood. The deaths he had tasted in the Divine Kingdom were indeed wonderful, but they couldn't compare to the excitement of the real blood before him.
Yet, a sense of self-pity rose from his heart, like a tiger fallen to the plains.
Damn it, how did I end up in such a sorry state, finding even a breath of blood to be satisfying?
It's all those damned vampires' fault!
Murphy, and Pa Ying!
You just wait, I'll make you pay!
