From the moment Aeryon break down the northern gate, the defeat is like a rushing avalanche.
From the march of the horses to the killing of thousand all of happens so sudden, lightning fast, swift and merciless.
The common people of the city that is brave enough to raise their weapons would only die faster. How could a farmer who only know how to use hoes and sickle could fight against the warriors of the great steppe who hunts bears, wolves, condors in the vast grasslands?
One swing of their weapon could easily take the lives of a few farmers.
The farmers, the common people that tries to fight die faster. But this did not mean those people that did not fight could live either
In all direction, there is the scene of blood and devastation. All of them is frightened and fled in all direction, screaming in fear.
Aeryon, Mayeux, Belarion, Durka all split into four directions like four horseman that brings death.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
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