The shield wall pressed ahead. Behind them, swords stabbed through the gaps, piercing demon flesh. Screams filled the air. Black blood splattered across the shields and soaked into the dirt below.
A demon leapt over, snarling, its jaws snapping for a throat. Handle stepped forward, his sword flashing in a wide arc. The head split clean from its shoulders. The body fell with a wet smack against the shields.
"Hold steady!" he shouted, his voice iron. "Strike with rhythm. Do not swing wild. Let the shields carry you."
The men struck together, their blades rising and falling as one. Each hit landed with grim weight. Each thrust spilled more blood. The ground turned slick, the iron scent of gore filling their lungs.
"What the hell," Handle muttered as he split open a demon's chest. His voice shook with both shock and awe. "Don't these demons know fear?"
Another beast clawed at him, forcing him back. He spat blood, eyes wide.