The Last Charge of the Redcliffe Bloodline
The Redcliffe Family, who had been valiantly fighting on the front lines since the first horn of battle echoed across Fantom City, were now reduced to barely half of their original numbers. The once-proud cavalry formation that had thundered across the battlefield with unstoppable momentum had become a scattered band of bloodied veterans standing shoulder to shoulder against an endless sea of death.
The battlefield was almost unrecognizable.
Broken banners fluttered weakly in the cold wind. The ground had long since turned into a mixture of mud, blood, shattered weapons, and piles of broken bones. Thick black smoke drifted through the air while the stench of decay mixed with the metallic scent of fresh blood.
The undead never slowed.
Their hollow eye sockets burned with eerie green flames as they marched forward without fear or hesitation. No matter how many were cut down, another wave immediately took their place.
