The most brutal scene I’ve ever had to reenact was the final stand at the River of Blood. We were a small group of veterans, holding a narrow ford against a legion of armored cavalry. Every move was choreographed: the timing of the arrows, the angle of the shields, the precise rhythm of our charges. I felt the weight of the sword, the sting of the wind, the roar of the enemy all at once. It was like living a battle book: the adrenaline, the blood, the taste of steel. After we pulled the fight out, the silence that followed felt like a solemn victory, a testament that discipline and honor can hold even the fiercest of forces.