The night continued uneventfully. The forest held its breath in that awkward way it did when too many bodies were trying to pretend they weren't there, no loud talk, no celebratory grunting, only the occasional shift of weight and the soft scrape of an axe haft being repositioned in the dirt.
Even the wind seemed to move carefully through the branches, making the leaves whisper instead of rustle. Some orcs who had been anxiously waiting to raid the camp ended up being the first to drop asleep. Snoring up a storm in the process.
Thankfully, they weren't loud enough to be heard by the camp below so Ludwig didn't wake them and let them have their rest. He could've slapped them awake out of principle, war camps didn't tolerate slack, but principle didn't win this trial. Timing did. Exhausted fighters made stupid mistakes, and stupid mistakes got you killed before you ever reached "king."
