"Whew..."
With a muted, guttural neigh, the black steed thundered down the high slope, its hooves churning up a maelstrom of dust and debris, sending shattered bones scattering in all directions like grotesque confetti.
The mercenaries beheld the figure astride the horse with a mixture of wonder and trepidation.
Amidst the chaos of the battlefield, Limon's gaze fell upon Bard. There he stood, surrounded by a contingent of Red Guards on the high vantage point, and Bard, too, had caught sight of Limon's approach.
He was still among the living...
A palpable sense of relief washed over Limon as he saw Bard unharmed. In these dire times, the presence of the army's commander was of utmost importance.
Limon guided his horse towards the Red Guards' formation. Under the scrutiny of the guards and a cluster of adventurers, he dismounted with practiced ease and made his way towards Bard.
