You're fighting over the now-bloodsoaked siege weapons of Rade's army. Most of the rebels have actually fallen back, gathering under Rade's banner. He's rallying his forces, reorganizing them for a counter-attack.
They're moving to escape southward. It appears Rade has abandoned his men in the jungle, cutting his losses where he can.
You're now exhausted. As are most of your men.
Only a few dozen rangers are still standing with you. You can count about twenty armored knights trudging alongside you. Roughly thirty rangers hold back along the ridge and forest, pelting the enemy from afar.
The berserk ranger from earlier stumbles up to you. He's completely coated in crimson. You're not sure how much of it is his own blood and how much is that of his enemies, but judging by his limp, he's been wounded.
He laughs once more. "What a glorious sight. What a glorious day!"
You pull up your visor. The fresh air feels heavenly on your face.