From a distance, the battlefield looked like a churning maelstrom of life and death. Blood slicked the ground, and mangled bodies piled everywhere. Soldiers screamed, monsters roared, and spells clashed with dark magic in explosions of light and shadow.
This was history repeating itself, Simon thought. Even the angel's intervention could not change the grim reality. The demons were simply stronger, more numerous, and relentless.
The Kingdom of Orlandos was a dam holding back a flood, and it was cracking with each impact of the wave. How long could they hold on before their spirit breaks entirely?
Still, even against the inevitable, the humans showed resilience. Each blow they delivered drained their strength, and the weight of their comrades' deaths hung heavy on their shoulders.
Yet they fought, they held their sword and died in battle.
.