After an hour of intense fighting, the last lizardman falls with a guttural scream, its body collapsing into the swampy ground. The battlefield is littered with the fallen, both human and monster. Exhausted cultivators catch their breath, their faces smeared with mud and sweat. General Grim surveys the scene, his expression grim.
"We've lost many," he says, his voice heavy with sorrow. "But we must press on. There's no turning back now."
As the group moves forward, the marshland continues to reveal its dark secrets. The cultivators, now wary of the terrain, proceed cautiously. Argon walks with Lorn, both of them silent.
Suddenly, the swamp ripples with movement. From the murky waters, giant serpentine creatures emerge, their scales shimmering with a dark, oily sheen. These swamp serpents, with their elongated bodies and venomous fangs, are a well-known threat in this area.
"Serpents!" a voice shouts from the ranks. "Form defensive positions!"
