Jizo heard faint explosions and roars in the darkness. He struggled to open his eyes, only to see a haze of blood-red. He rubbed them hard until he finally made out a little light.
Then came the crushing weight. Jizo felt as though several oxen were piled on top of him. He pulled an arm free and pushed upward with all his strength.
A young soldier rose from the heap of corpses. Jizo was surprised that he was still alive. Then he looked down at the dozen or so mangled masses of flesh beneath his feet.
Jizo was lucky-or perhaps unlucky. Lucky because he had survived a fall from a thirty-meter-high wall; unlucky because he would rather have died.
The wall had fallen. Through his blurred vision, Jizo could make out Monsters waving their Blade Legs atop the battlements, and there were plenty of them.
He looked around and saw nothing but corpses: members of the Guard Corps and ordinary soldiers alike. The heavy stench of blood made him feel sick, almost enough to vomit.
But Jizo forced the nausea down. Suddenly, he felt lost. What should I do? Run? Or fight?
Then he heard scattered cannon fire. There were still people on the second and third levels!
Jizo made his decision at once. He cleared away the bodies, found the passage leading to the upper levels of the wall, and immediately ran up.
"You filthy bastards!!! Die!!!"
It was Old Michael's voice. Hearing that familiar sound, Jizo immediately ran toward it. But when he reached the upper level, he found only a scattering of soldiers, along with those operating the Magic Cannons to bombard the Monsters.
Jizo did not understand why there were so few men on the seemingly safe second and third levels. Then the general's voice rang