The skies had turned crimson.
A battle that would be legendary, that would go down in the annals of time, it seemed. Bodied torn asunder with souls rising into the sky.
Screams of fear or to stem the fear, wails of terror and pain as limbs were torn and bodies were consumed whole.
The deranged cries of beasts as they too were slain...
All these sounds and flavors seemed to mesh together, coming towards an unimaginable crescendo.
The entire battlefield was separated into multiple different pockets.
The Pilgrims slit the throats of the Beastmen and the Lightslayers. The Beastmen ripped their throats out, and the Lightslayers used their Divine blessings to slay the Pilgrims in equal measure.