At dawn, the earth—which should have been veiled in a faintly damp morning mist—was instead shrouded in billowing, unscattered smoke from the gunpowder. Like a heavy curtain carrying a pungent, choking odor, this grayish-white dust lingered persistently across the vast expanse. Worse still, the smoke was tainted with a sickeningly strong stench of fresh blood.
Looking out as far as the eye could see, the scene both above and below the city walls was utterly horrific: severed limbs, shattered bricks and rubble, and corpses sprawled in every direction lay scattered everywhere.
Amidst these ruins below the city walls, a few wounded soldiers who still clung to a breath of life lay amidst the piles of the dead, uttering heart-wrenching, agonizing cries. Desperately, they stretched out their hands, their eyes filled with helplessness and longing, desperately hoping that someone might reach out and rescue them from this hellish nightmare.
Chapter 292