After handing the head of the Chud warlord to his grandfather, Rostislav naturally gained the greatest merit in this war, as he was the one who took Alar's head.
Because of this, the Nuo City Prince obtained a large amount of spoils, and Alar's personal collection became his.
However, this warlord had given most of his treasures away to win people's hearts, so the Prince did not get much.
Among the spoils, the most valuable was the helmet inlaid with a large ruby, which Rostislav gave to Gvaran.
Facing this princely gift, the always silent Captain of the Guard solemnly accepted it, and Rostislav, looking at his eyes, understood that from then on, he had finally become a true liege in this man's heart.
The other spoils were distributed among his subordinates, for Rostislav knew how important a generous reputation was to a Prince; Northern warriors were always happy to follow a generous person, just as the Alemannic proverb says: 'Jewels wield swords.'
His grandfather sent Alar's head to Novgorod, declaring the victory and the end of the war.
After three days of revelry in the Mountain Stronghold, the main force of the allied army, leaving behind a portion of the garrison, set off again, returning to the prosperous Novgorod amidst songs of triumph, leaving behind the burning land of Estonia.
Estonia suffered heavy losses in this three-month campaign; many Chud either died or were sold into slavery, and the Rus' also controlled several key strategic points in this land, strengthening their control over the Chud.
The remaining tribes were still restless, but not against the Rus', but against their own kin; the allied army had destroyed many tribes, and now they were gone, but wasn't the land still there?
So, within a few days of the allied army's departure, this land was again filled with fighting and slaughter; the Chud began to shed blood continuously over the ownership of a hill, a valley, or even a scrawny cow; everything was no different from ordinary days; this was the daily life of these barbarians.
On the way home, the people, having made a fortune, sang songs of war, longing for a beautiful life in the future.
The occasional sobbing in the slave columns was so miserable compared to this joyful atmosphere, but no one cared about them; who would care about the thoughts of a group of commodities? Even Rostislav hardened his heart and ignored their existence.
Taking advantage of a break in the march, Rostislav handed his grandfather the letter he had obtained from the Mountain Stronghold.
However, the wise man merely put it away after reading it, without any reaction, only asking Rostislav to keep the matter secret.
The Nuo City Prince could not help but feel disappointed, but that was how things were; the possibility of immediate success was too low, and his grandfather knowing the true existence of the conspiracy was already a great success.
Upon arriving in Novgorod, the returning army enjoyed the city's welcome; crowds filled both sides of the streets, all cheering for the victory, and Bishop Luka, with members of the church, sang hymns for the Grand Prince's victory.
Every warrior returning from the expedition had their bags stuffed with wealth; their families were overjoyed by the victorious return of their fathers and brothers, who also brought back spoils from afar, enough to buy valuable production tools for their homes or simply to live well for a period.
Moreover, Novgorod's slave market saw a sharp drop in prices due to the recent influx of goods, and slightly wealthier Nuo City families now had a few Chud slaves.
The city's magnates were excited by the Grand Prince's victory, as it meant more goods that could be sold to the south would flood the market, allowing them to earn more.
As for the Grand Prince himself, he had resolved the troubles in the north, strengthened Kiev's authority, and obtained evidence of the conspiracy, also returning with a full harvest.
Rostislav gained a lot; he proved himself to the Grand Prince, gained the true loyalty of his father's Bodyguard Unit, displayed martial prowess before the magnates of All Rus', and won glory worthy of being sung in ballads.
The Nuo City Prince understood that he was now at the table, even if only a small player, but he was at the table nonetheless.
People would no longer see him as a Prince to be slaughtered, but as a Prince who commanded battlefields.
It could be said that everyone in the great Northern city was happy now, and everyone had money to spend; Novgorod once again became a city of revelry, immersed in the joy of victory, with an air of pleasure permeating everything.
Drunken revelers were everywhere on the streets, their mouths full of cheers for the war.
Several drunkards froze to death every night, and the body collectors were very busy recently, yet despite this, the taverns were still packed with patrons from morning till night.
As for Rostislav, although he had distributed much gold and silver, he still earned a lot; the nobles and merchants of Novgorod sensed the change in the political atmosphere, and they vied to send gifts, currying favor with this Rurik Prince whom they had once disregarded.
Soon after, Harald decided to leave Novgorod; the war in Estonia was over, the soldiers had rested and were well-off, and the King's spoils had been converted into various supplies; it was time to return home.
Yaroslav did not try to keep His Majesty the King, only sending a large amount of treasures; his son-in-law had been invited to assist, so if he wanted to leave, he should be sent off well.
On the Baltic Sea beach, everyone gathered to bid farewell to this 'Northern Thunder'; the Norwegian King, against a backdrop of many sails, made his final farewells to everyone, with fully armed Norse warriors behind him, and Estonian Norsemen prominently among them—this was the King's promise, that they could join in that great plunder.
The fleet at sea was ready for battle; from now on, they could encounter Danish ships at any time, which would lead to a fierce naval battle.
His farewell to the Nuo City Prince was the last; Harald gave him an exquisite silver cross, but though it was a cross, one could vaguely see the shadow of a hammer, which made the Nuo City Prince think of the pagan Thor's Hammer.
Rostislav knew what was going on; faith in the North was not as devout as in the South; to most people, the God on the cross was still a stranger, so why not make the cross into a more familiar style? And perhaps the pagan gods might even grant protection upon seeing it.
The Nuo City Prince could not help but give the King a deep look, but said nothing—matters of faith should not be spoken of lightly.
"Keep this thing; if you need it, Riga will help you."
Leaving these words, this giant, fully two meters tall, nimbly rowed a small boat towards the flagship, his movements still full of power.
After the King boarded, with the successive blares of trumpets, this Norse fleet, which roamed the seas, once again embarked on its journey.
Rostislav clutched the cross, watching the Norwegian fleet disappear into the sunlight, and could not help but feel melancholic; the Norwegian King had been very gentle and kind to him, and His Majesty's advice in the military had helped him a lot, and he could not help but think of His Majesty's future death in England.
But this emotion only lasted for a short while; there were still more than ten years until the battle in which Harald would die, and after he came to this era, whether that battle would even exist then was a question.