The sound of cannons rattled the citadel walls, a series of bows and arrows rushed forward like death itself is flying towards its victims.
The soldier's throat was pierced by the iron arrows, blood spurted out of his mouth.
They die painfully and those excruciating pain is the last bit of reality they experience, unable to groan, unable to cry, they die without realizing their lives are being taken away so quickly.
A series of people collapsed, the fire gradually grew bigger, the demons pierced the gate with cannons.
The wailing cry continued to echo.
Archers also poured down the gate, only a few people stood there laughing unconsciously, these people couldn't even raise their bows.
The cannon continued to fire, even though it did hit the people who were spilling out towards the gate.
In a war, there's no room for humanity, it's the comrades who have to sacrifice themselves to die with the enemy.
We all know, that it would be better to have a dozen people fall and be beheaded for a better outcome, than standing there, doing nothing.
Or maybe they just want to die in the sound of firecrackers, broken bones but feel less pain than that long, suffered death.
Walking down the hallway, I opened the door and quietly stepped out into the courtyard. Amidst the sounds of people, cannons, fires, no one really cared about a single life or two.
The defense at the gate had completely collapsed, hundreds of corpses were crumbling on the ground, the smell of smoke…
I kept walking in silence, and perhaps as if our bows and cannons had also run out, the last of our soldiers followed in my footsteps.
The enemy still has a hundred men, even if their cannon is completely destroyed, no matter how much their bow is broken, death will still come our way.
I stopped, tears started to flow… the limit was already reached. I can't pretend I accept such a dire ending.
I've seen how those who stay with me die quickly, but they live long enough to endure the excruciating pain.
The demons began to charge in, shouting in the sweet victory they sacrificed for.
Inside the gate were dumbfounded people, they could no longer cry, their throats were also burning from screams of pain, sacrifice and loss, but only one side enjoyed the feeling of returning.
I turned my face, only to see a young man tearing at my shoulder, the demon in disguise cutting off his arm.
My stomach ached, it was numb… I looked down, the tip of the sword through my stomach and my right shoulder imbued with an axe blade.
Maybe so, that it's finally my turn. The pain I witnessed, now I have to feel it myself...
I collapsed in front of the large man, who lifted the axe from my hand.
That feeling, I couldn't see anything anymore. The axe pierced my eye.
He just stopped there.
I don't know what awaits me on the other side of the gate. Using the last of my strength, dragging myself forward, I really don't want to die, and I'm not dead yet.
The taste of blood and tears mixed. In front of me now only earth and darkness.
Not a single person stepped on the dead thing, as if they wanted to see a little struggle before the desire to live was completely gone.
Am I going to die?
Legs no longer move, ears can no longer hear anything.
Where am I?
Have I reached the gate where hundreds of lives were sacrificed to keep it?… It doesn't matter anymore, my arms can't do anything now.
I've lived all my life and the little time left to question myself and finally, get the answer.
That this man will never understand, will never be able to feel it.
The image of that woman, again, at this time, appeared in my mind. Maybe the Scottfield last name never really helped. She's long dead and so am I.
It's hard to say when that person sent herself to death so that her child could live.
Why am I not dead yet, why am I still feeling the regret and wretched nature of this meaningless life?