Chapitre 473: Chapter 46, Rule-Abiding Feckney

The setting sun bled into the horizon, its residual glow casting the earth in shades of demise as the air hung heavy with the stench of blood and gunpowder.

Dark brown hawks periodically swooped down from the sky, snatching morsels of flesh from the ground. The atmosphere was eerily peculiar, as if one had stepped into the depths of hell.

Soldiers tasked with cleaning the battlefield paid little mind to this. Having just endured a grueling battle, they were all physically and mentally exhausted, eager only to gather the remains of their comrades and return them to the embrace of God.

As for the enemy's remains, there was no need for their concern; those were left for the conscripted Zulu people to deal with, unceremoniously dumped into hastily dug pits.

Incidents were unavoidable on the battlefield: someone might collapse unexpectedly or be left unconscious from an injury. If left to the unreliable Zulu people, they would likely bury all unscrupulously.