Soon after, he met his brother coming down the mountain.
Brother Donetous was drenched in blood. It was human blood. There were some wounds, but nothing major. Sufficient to manage with herbs and medicinal materials.
"You climbed mountains like that yet have so many wounds. You learned for nothing. Hehe."
At Brother Donetous's words, Brother Amantous, full of small wounds and bruises from being cut and hit by Rowan, laughed.
"Still smaller wounds than yours, brother."
Donetous also had wounds on his forearm. Not thinly cut. Not deeply cut either. Moderate.
Brother Amantous took out strong liquor from a leather pouch. Liquor too strong to drink was used to erase iron smell. To orcs, the iron smell wafting from wounds was considered ominous. A warrior's superstition.
"Keugh."
His muscles writhed. The wounds were from swords.
"How did it happen?"
"He was a guy with quite a build. I thought I could handle him easily, but he had some skill."
"So you sent him flying?"
