D. John's sorrow changed to ill-concealed rage, and he swore that day to level Galera to the ground and to sow it with salt, and to put all its dwellers to the sword; which he soon afterwards accomplished, as at the third assault, with new mines laid to the foundations of the castle, and enormous breaches made by heavy artillery brought from Guescar, almost the whole village blew up with a dreadful noise and earthquake, which made the hill tremble, and the Christians dashed forward and gained the town inch by inch, until they penned up more than 1000 Moors in a little square, where they slew them without mercy or pity. The streets ran with blood and it made the roads slippery, covering the bushes and brambles as if with crimson flowers. They took great booty of things of much value, and D. John ordered that the great quantity of wheat and barley which the Moors had stored there should be seized; he also ordered D. Luis del Mármol, who relates all these events, to raze the town and sow it with salt, as he had sworn. D. John of Austria left Galera and went straight to lay siege to the town and castle of Serón, where awaited him the first real sorrow which embittered his life. He encamped his troops at Canilles, and from there he wished to go personally to reconnoitre the place, taking with him the Knight Commander of Castille and Luis Quijada, with 2000 picked arquebusiers and 200 horses. The Moors of Serón saw them coming, and hurriedly began to make signals from the castle, asking for help. Many went to take shots at the Christians from the slope and then fled, pursued by the Christians, all of whom entered the place, which seemed deserted; the women could be seen running to take refuge in the castle, and from there were making signals. The soldiers gave themselves up in a shameless manner to sacking the houses, and better to secure the plunder many shut themselves up in them. Suddenly there appeared more than 1000 Moors from Tijola, Purchena, and other villages on the river, in response to the signals, and the panic of the Christians was then boundless. They fled in a disorderly way, and unwilling to leave the booty they had already in their hands, and encumbered with the loads, they stumbled, fell one on the top of the other, affording a good mark for stones, arrows, and bullets. D. John, from the hill where he was, saw all this confusion, and angry at the danger to his soldiers and at their want of discipline, fearlessly plunged his horse into the midst of them, crying with heroic force: