Bodies of horse and men were scattered across the battlefield. The day began with ferocity and ended in the howl of the winds. What was once hundred of thousands participants were now reduced to mere thousands of survivors.
"So, this is it," Cyncynnatys said, looking at the king that was beheaded by one of his men. He didn't know who he was, commoner or not, dead or not, but that didn't matter too much now. He will make sure to commemorate the unknown soldier later. What was important was that the Ymaryn had came close to annihilation, but the horde was finally stopped.
He turned back to his men. "This isn't over. Rest, because tomorrow we will march. The eastern cities never turned their backs on us, but they paid a heavy price. We will search for survivors."
"Yes sir!"
He surveyed the weary urban poor turned levee soldiers and their officers he was forced to promote. So many nobles got killed in the war that one couldn't be picky.
At least the worst of that was over. Maybe Cyncynnatys will be able to retire to his estate after all of this, rest his tired body and soul. He was certain that he did not want to be King at all.