"Alright. See to it that one of the giants is taken as prisoners."

Bartolomé nods, and soon, the process of post-battle care begins. Your dead are counted and identified, then laid to rest in graves. The wounded are cared for where they can, and it is once again that you are reminded of the considerable abilities of the Santo Cor medics. You know very well that not half of the men who lived thanks to their care would have done so without them. You can only surmount that it is their fanatical devotion to the maintenance of the body - of the Splendour that resides in the 'human form' - that has given them the divine guidance with which they can achieve such feats.

You are also told that they, indeed, managed to save one of the giants, who had been brought down by the explosions from your little stratagem. The explosion of the grenades had covered the goliath in shards, soot, and burns of the most painful manner all across his face and upper chest. You are assured that 'he' has been put well strongly to sleep with medicine, and been bound by thick ropes and chains nonetheless. Yet so large is he, you are told the men have had no choice but to pick out an entire wagon to carry him in.

You reckon it'll probably be a while until the giant is in a good enough position to speak.

With such matters finished, your regiment continues on its road, though certainly a lot more wary of the trees. When your scouting details return, they are very much surprised to hear of the attack; it seems that the Himmerian mercenaries had somehow evaded their sights. Luckily, none other troop seems to have done so; for the rest of the week you manage to march without any other issues.