Gundomar pressed against the muddy trench wall as another shell screamed overhead. Thirty yards behind their position, it detonated, hurling dirt and metal fragments in all directions. It was as though Nastrond, the shore of corpses, had been brought from the underworld into this place. They had endured eighteen or maybe even twenty hours under constant fire. He’d lost count by this point as minute after minute, shells exploded around them, shaking the…
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