We weren't the only people at the Eserian's border. Hunters and demihuman soldiers from the Houses had decided to leave the safety of Cintre to cull the demons at the forest's outskirts. Whether they did it for the coin or to protect the farm clusters was unimportant. All that mattered was the number of demons they managed to slay.
I noticed early enough that not a single Tier-1 Chosen had joined the front line. Some stayed way back, bows and magic foci at the ready, but they did not move closer to the Eserian's dense undergrowth.
The bushes rustled once more, and Jer shifted. His war axes were drenched in dark blood, and so was the rest of his body. He didn't bother collecting the horns and claws of the demons he'd killed either. All he cared about was the death of his nemesis and the Essence that gave him the strength needed to keep going.
