End of battle

The rebels who had moments ago been drunk on the thrill of pursuit were now the ones in full retreat. Their cohesion had disintegrated under the relentless onslaught of the Herculean cavalry and the advancing infantry. Panic spread like wildfire, and cries of fear replaced the victorious shouts that had once filled the air.

Some rebels tried to flee back toward the hill, but their path was cut off by the Herculean cavalry, who carved through their disorganized ranks with ruthless precision. A knight, his armor splattered with blood, drove his lance through the chest of a fleeing rebel, lifting him from the ground momentarily before the lance broke from impact. Another cavalryman swung his sword in a wide arc, decapitating a rebel whose last scream was drowned in the rush of hooves and steel.