So, having seen this scenario once again, they had already prepared themselves for the worst in their hearts. At worst, we'll just die! But they absolutely could not retreat! And the beast absolutely must not advance! Because these wars were not games. Even games might have some leniency, but war was a matter of life and death.
So they resolved: Kill! Kill! Kill!! Fight! Fight! Fight!! They had to drive this beast from the top of the city wall, back to its own kind. Or, they would die first, before the Martial Artists could arrive to rescue them, buying the maximum amount of time for those behind.
"Kill!!"
Then, a fierce, somewhat hair-raising shout suddenly rang out. Their voices were hoarse and strained, yet their gazes remained unwavering, fixed on the beast's back. The big sabers in their hands kept moving forward! Forward!! FORWARD!!! They watched as their blades fell upon the beast—so hateful, so damned, so arrogant, yet against which they were utterly helpless.
