To stop was to die.
And to hesitate was to fall.
In this place, Golgotha, there was no grace. It was a stark reflection of the world. A terrible place with only survival and blood. Only chaos, only horror, only death.
Every strike he made was as heavy and a mountain, leaving no room for counter.
'I get it now...'
The Combat Doctrine of the Crimson Crucible truly was the best in dealing with large numbers of enemies where stopping for even a single second meant the difference between life and death.
One couldn't make use of flowery movements and stances.
All the defense needed was armor.
The sword was meant only to swing and cull, chopping down the enemies like swathes of wheat until there were no enemies left, or you broke.
The horde continued to pour forth, even as the humans cut their way through.
