Back then, the sandy shoreline, of course, was bleak. Now, even bloodied, with a darkened hope of clouds shrouding the sun's rays. The sky became the background of a gloomy world of savages, reflecting a dead bird's quill.
"It's no use... the enemy is too strong. We are even outnumbered..."
An unknown warrior from the Lumin's Tribe muttered with his lips dry, his head is debauched with stupor—staggering forward, and into his pierced and shattered soul that bore a torturing image of surrender...
His last words echoed a dispirited cry before he convulsed and finally, collapsing with his fellow dead comrades.
"Brothers! Victory is waving within our sight, let's claim it!"
Banuk-Rhanuk triumphantly roared as he fiercely pierced his enemy's stomach and from beneath his feet. The helpless enemies stared at him with pleading eyes, begging to be spared of their lives.
