The situation on the east bank of River Valley evolved into a chaotic melee, brown and blue-gray specks intermingling, with the concept of a battle line nowhere to be found.
There was no longer a front or a back, only survival and death; no more allies and enemies, only those to be killed and those not to be killed.
On the periphery of the battlefield, Colonel Sanel, donned in a regular soldier's uniform, essentially lost control over the council army. He had played his last card, exhausted all reserves, and used every trick up his sleeve.
At this moment, Sanel Caroy was like a gambler who had pushed in all his chips, with the outcome no longer under his control.
It might be the council army collapsing entirely in the next second, or the alliance army collapsing entirely in the next second, and Sanel was powerless to influence the victory or defeat even a little.
