The battle on the ramparts continued to rage on, an unceasing storm of chaos and violence beneath the eerie glow of the red moon. The city of Bastion was under siege, and its defenders fought with an unwavering determination. The clamor of metal against monstrous flesh, the anguished cries of wounded defenders, and the savage roars of the beasts blended into a symphony of carnage.
As the defenders clashed with the relentless wave of creatures, the air grew heavy with the unmistakable stench of blood. It hung in the atmosphere like a thick, suffocating fog, permeating everything. The metallic tang of spilled blood was so intense that even those not directly in the fray could taste it in their mouths.
