The entire battle dissolved into an all-out clash, the Holy Allied Territories' command chain completely breaking as adrenaline and the storm made voices near impossible to hear.
Everyone was now going to what they thought was correct.
Pikemen moved on their own and tried to stop Lucan's cavalry, while foot soldiers formed small groups and assaulted the narrow gate one by one.
Some even tried to head to the other gates of Snowkeep, only to be met with bombardment.
And the entire time, Justinian couldn't help but think that they were fighting like Russians, using pure numbers to try and overwhelm his capital.
'How goddamn many are there?'
Justinian thought as he weaved through blows, parrying and blocking each second as the three fighters were stuck in a stalemate.
"Getting tired?"
Count Besmund spat out, bleeding from his left arm.
