The celebration party was entering its climax.
Fei held his wineglass and walked to the soldiers.
After experiencing the cruel battle that could repress anyone to the point of suffocation and turn them crazy, only fine wine and women could relieve these strongmen. Pierce and Drogba laughed as they drank with silver bowls the size of a kitchen sink. Wild and uninhibited laughter echoed in the square. The twenty three strongmen including Oleg had followed Fei and slid down the defensive wall and charged into the enemies like a death squad. Except for Breno who had sacrificed himself on the bridge, although the other twenty two strongmen were all severely injured, they made back alive. Fighting alongside the king had built a special friendship between these iron-like men.
On the north side of the square, the men gathered together and sat down on the stone tables and gulped down the wine. Some of them wrestled half-naked on the side, some arm-wrestled on the table and others danced with the joyful girls. Even Oleg who was unwelcomed by all the soldiers had gained many people’s respect after this deadly mission.
“Cheers! For our brothers!” Fei raised his wineglass and proposed a toast.