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When morning came, everyone noticed that the corpses had been buried. Well, naturally. The source of the terrible odor was gone, and the unpleasant scenery had vanished—it would be hard not to notice.

The soldiers’ reactions were mixed.

I was surprised at the even split of opinion. Given how strong everyone’s grudges were, I’d expected louder objections.

If anyone suspected that the spellcaster must have had a hand in burying so many bodies at once, they didn’t come to me to complain.

“Eheheh. If you get bent out of shape and refuse to show up to the next battle, the number of casualties will double. Who’s gonna complain at the cost of their own life?” That was Master Horace’s explanation.

Geez, they don’t have to act so SCARED of me.

All the complaints were instead directed toward the unit commanders, who then broached the subject to the knights and other higher-ranked officials. In the end, it went all the way to Reggie, who just matter-of-factly delivered my explanation: that it was to avoid troubling the neighboring townspeople with the smell or potential spread of disease.

The soldiers accepted the explanation without a fight. They knew from experience that disease was rampant wherever there were large amounts of casualties, so they must have decided burying the bodies was worth it.