The After - End -#8

The site before him came like a de ja vu. An occurrence of his very existence, he could not put a name to it. But, seeing all the tents in the camp destroyed, people fighting he knew that a war had begun already. People in black garb carried stone axes, some that are rougly dressed had farming tools as weapon. He wondered what stance they had against the grandmaster soldiers.

Aren't you in the same boat as them? The voice said.

Clouds of feathered arrows shoot through the air bringing many to their death. Javelins whistled past and pinned a soldier to a chariot through his head, his brain split into a clean cut two. A lifeless man in a black religious habit was dragged on the ground by a black horse through the field. His garb getting torn along the way with a missing limb already decapacited ready to fall off. Some bodies lay hooked on the pointed wooden bulwark their blood spilled out, running in lines into a blood puddle on the ground. The cries of men and screams of in