"Why... how could it be like this..."
Batu sat numbly amidst the ruins, his eyes bloodshot, lips cracked, yet he could not make a sound.
The battle was already over.
The Red Rock Broken Axe Coalition—the force proclaimed as the most elite heavy-armored force of the Northern Barbarian Race, now only had scorched earth and broken bones left.
The blood-soaked mud across the hills had not yet dried, the battle flags were tattered and rolled in the fireworks, armor and severed limbs were buried in the charred black grass slopes.
The air was filled with the stench of burnt fur and flesh, the corpses of wolf riders lay piled chaotically, a war axe stuck in the back of a warrior's head, flies buzzing and circling around the mountain of corpses.
Last night, they still had a force five times larger than the enemy, occupied the advantageous terrain, with high-built camps, well-prepared equipment, and cavalry lined up like a steel torrent in front of the slope.
