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. His men waded into
the conflict, their swords swinging, chopping at the enemy.
Men fell, wounded, screaming in pain and fright. Others
dropped, dead before they hit the ground. A few broke and
ran, but no one paid attention to them. Even as far from the
battle as he was, Huma could see the blood beginning to
flow. Puddles of it under the bodies. Streams of it began to
form rivers. The dust, churning under the feet of the men,
was suddenly wet with blood.
Huma's men forced those of the Queen to retreat. As
their line collapsed and her men died, fresh soldiers forced
their way into the front ranks. Some, armed with maces,
tried to crush the skulls of the attackers. Others, using
spears and pikes, thrust into Huma's forces, killing and
wounding.
The sight of the battle was almost too much for Huma to
bear. It had turned into the bloodiest, goriest affair he'd ever
been witness to, as the men killed and were killed. Huma
tore his eyes away, unable to stand the sight, but he could
still hear the sound of it. He could hear the grunts and cries
of the fighting men. Hear the ringing of the metal of their
weapons as they slammed into each other. Hear the screams
of agony of the wounded and the shrieks of pain from the
dying
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