Ingwig calendar year 791.
A gentle drizzle fell from the sky, baptizing the chaotic earth, washing away the blood stains on the iron armor one by one. The knights looked up, allowing the rain to seep into their armor as much as possible to cool their feverish bodies, and a faint steam rose from their armor.
The battle had entered its final stage, the enemy's formation was scattered by the knights. Most of them were using outdated weapons, which only sparked slightly when striking the fine armor. Only a few enemies had armor, but they faced skilled knights and couldn't sway the battle.
Count Stuart slowly withdrew his sword from the enemy's body, his movements incredibly sluggish. As the sword left, large amounts of blood gushed from the broken body. He had been struggling with this knight for a long time, and at the last moment, Count Stuart seized the opportunity, knocking him unconscious with the hilt, then slitting his throat.
