The clash continued on the ground, growing more chaotic by the minute. Casualties kept increasing on both sides, but for the unified army, each death was a true loss. But for the affiliated ghost army, the bone golems were cheap creations they could build again with minimal effort.
Young and aspiring talents who were filled with spirit, yearning for glory, and many joined to increase in the ranks of power, some through their own volition, or some through force.
The countless desires they had all ended with a premature death; the loved ones of the dead soldiers would be grieving for days nonstop, mothers and fathers would weep for their child. Wives would become widows; the ones who had promised their women that they would marry after coming back, their promises would remain unfulfilled.
The earth for miles and miles eventually became nothing more than blood and bones, dark and red mixed, torn flesh, intestines, and skeletal bone frames of the golems littered the ground.
