One word. The word that meant everything. The word that meant do not break. Do not run. Do not die until you have taken ten of them with you.
The demons came.
The horde. The wave. The endless, relentless, infinite wave of red-skinned, black-eyed, needle-toothed bodies. They came over the rubble of the wall. Through the breach. Into the camp. Toward the line.
The knights held.
For five minutes. For ten. The spears stabbed. The swords swung. The shields blocked. The demons died. The knights died. One. Two. Three. The line shrank. From twenty to seventeen. From seventeen to fourteen.
Then the monster came.
