Despite fighting with everything they had, Derek's squad was utterly unable to withstand the assault of the elite Janissary. What began as a balanced skirmish quickly devolved into a one-sided slaughter, grinding their courage into dust.
Every strike from the Janissary had purpose, every thrust was the result of years of training shaped by a doctrine of perfection. They didn't fight like men—they were living war machines.
One member of the Band of Massiah tried to block an attack from the left, but a long spear pierced through his shoulder from behind. He screamed, staggered, and a metal shield slammed into his skull—ending him instantly.
Another fighter stepped in to shield Derek, but two Janissary struck from opposite sides. Their blades crossed through his chest, blood spraying into the air like a crimson mist.
