The battlefield was a chaos of fire, steel, and claws, yet through the tumult, every movement had purpose.
The defenders had already lost the cohesion of their initial formations, their lines shredded by the demons' relentless waves, and yet they fought with desperate precision, each strike a defiance against the encroaching nightmare.
The soldiers' cries echoed across the plains, mingling with the horrid howls of demons and the sickening sounds of bone and armor being torn apart. Even from a distance, the thunder of hooves and the stamping of monstrous feet made the earth tremble like it might split open entirely.
The first wave of attackers had been only a taste. The demons had returned with renewed coordination, pressing forward without hesitation.
Hundreds more poured into the gaps, exploiting weaknesses the defenders had struggled to hold. The front lines were no longer a solid wall; they were jagged clusters, pockets of desperate resistance surrounded on all sides.
