The orchard that once smelled faintly of ripe fruit and morning dew now reeked of smoke, blood, and medicine.
By nightfall, they had carried every wounded Farian back from the crash site. The small house was overflowing — its hallways, kitchen, and even the front porch filled with groaning soldiers. The rest had been laid out in makeshift tents across the orchard, the peach trees now strung with pale linen sheets and flickering lanterns that cast a wavering light over the field of the injured.
The humans worked tirelessly alongside them. Li Wang barked orders, sweat running down his temples as he checked wounds and changed bandages. Eren and Varon hauled water and gathered whatever herbs they could find, while Nansich stood by to help lift the heavier soldiers whose armor still steamed from the crash.
