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"It's okay to chop off the heads of bandits, but when it comes to civilized cremation, suddenly everyone becomes a stickler for rules?" Henry thought sarcastically, but then the smell of burning flesh reached him.
"Damn, damn, damn, I somehow expected it wouldn't go like this. I thought he would just turn into ashes right away," the guy turned pale and felt that his stomach, already barely coping with a glass of curses, was about to give up completely. "Oh, I'm going to be..."
He backs away from the group, goes to vomit around the corner, and returns, panting. After that, the group apparently moves on – there was no point in staying here any longer and sniffing around.