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. The soldier lost his grip on the
sword. With his remaining hand, he clawed at the muddy,
bloody ground. Rolling to his back, he stripped the helmet
from his head, tossing it to the side. Huma was shocked by
the youth in that face. His opponent was a young man who
couldn't even grow a beard or a proper moustache; he'd had
no chance to live. Now his skin was waxy and unnatural-
looking, as the last of his blood pumped itself onto the
ground. The young man died, a scream bubbling on his
crimson-stained lips.
All around Huma the battle continued to rage. Men
hammered each other to the ground, caving in heads and
hacking limbs from bodies. Men shouted and screamed and
fought. Even the reinforcements the Queen had found in the
obelisk were not enough to save her. Slowly, her army
shrank as her soldiers died.
And then, again, the sky closed over, the clouds boiled,
and the heavens flashed with their anger. Another new army
sprang from the remains of the old. Fresh men leaped to
fight the exhausted men that Huma had led to this spot. A
dozen, two, and then one-hundred more came at them,
rising from the bloody ground strewn with the bodies of the
slain. The Queen could call on this army, reinforcing it until
all of Huma's men were dead
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