One hundred and Seven

The number of Roger's troop seemed limitless and no matter how many we killed, it seemed futile. For every hundred that was killed, two hundred appeared. All the while the horizon continued to flood with them, row after row, division after division, crammed up like a million worker ants. They were able to stop the fire, they pushed off the flaming soldiers away an took up new positions. The death of several thousands of their men didn't even put a dent on their forces.

Yet at our side, every death made an impact, though we didn't have many. That kept my hope alive. We were already far away from the hill where the war started. Our army was still very much in the spirit. I was proud, they had sustained injuries but that didn't stop them. The key was just the best. It was killing four men at a time. I swinged it around while moving and ducking at the same time. At the corner of my eye, I heard a scream. I had less time to linger on that sight because I was being attacked from ever