After spending some time recovering, the remaining survivors awaited the black challenger's return in the cathedral.
Logically speaking, taking on an entire army outside the safety of their walls was absurd. Thus they deduced that waiting here, rather than rushing blindly outside, would be safer and prepared the cathedral accordingly, for a prolonged battle.
Even if they didn't know the black challenger's plan, they were certain he would come back. At least the hobgoblins should have. Moreover, it was impossible for one challenger to kill them all by himself.
Thus, they waited in their fortified base for the hobs to show themselves.
Thirty minutes passed.
One hour.
Two hours.
With no signs of grey creatures and the black challenger, veterans started to wonder what kind of battle was happening outside, if battle there was.
Worried for their companion, Ogoro and Sheyla insisted that challengers ventured outside.
"Who would have thought that one day, a father killer would be acknowledged as a hero by a bit less than ninety people? No matter the species, people always commit mistakes and failures at some point in their lives. The value of those mistakes or failures, however, is given not by the act itself, but by the perception of people passing judgment on it. In that idea possibly laid the salvation he so desperately sought after and still seeks."
Extract from, "Yggrasil Chronicles, The Woodcutter of Iris," by Roan the Merchant.