As night fell, the battle slowly stopped.
Surprisingly, those terrifying voodoo beasts that never tired nor feared death retreated under the orders of the Mages. They hid in the distant woods and for a moment it was hard to figure out their intentions.
Looking down from above the hill, one could see the ghostly green or blood red eyes of the voodoo beasts all over the dark forest.
The white-haired Knight Charles leaned on his runic longsword, standing on a corner of the tall hill, gazing at the woods in the distance. It left like a one-ton boulder was pressing upon his heart. Even breathing was difficult.
In all seriousness, the witcher-knights on this hill were entrenched in this battle because they responded to his rallying call. Now, everyone was trapped on this hill. They could not move and could only wait for the next attacks from the Mages.
