The commander had given his best. And the man was proud of his achievements, even now.
As a warrior, dying on the battlefield was the greatest honour there is. Being surrounded by foes thirsting for his blood. A glorious death that he deserved. A death that he earned.
He didn't have any regrets. Though he couldn't help but hope for one thing. May the battle he fought today end in favour of his allies. Only then, could he rest in peace.
The commander took a deep breath that cleared his mind and calmed him.
The enemies all around him slashed and trusted their sword at him. He didn't even flinch.
Two of the swords pierced through him through. He fel blood dripping from his body that was getting cold. It also dripped form his mouth.
But... something was a miss. His senses may be extremely heightened. But why everything so slow? A second felt like an entire minute, possibly longer.
