"How many days have passed..." Asura's dry, hoarse voice echoed in the quiet halls.
The black wolves that hung above his throne and the broken walls held together with replacement stone.
This fort-like mansion was the current headquarters and base of the Silvaran army.
Wolfsheim suffered great devastation.
From the first day of battle, the undead horde carried weapons and abominations. These deformed creatures did not sleep, did not fear death, and used them like suicide bombers to destroy the main cannons of the port.
"Asura... it's been two weeks." Helia's face looked pale, her long fluttering wings now missing several feathers and lacking the same gloss and lustre she once had.
It wasn't only his beloved Phoenix, but Lorem and Verana were now resting in the medical room created in his mansion for the injured nobles.
'Damn it...'
A bomb filled with thousands of poisonous spines exploded in the face of Lorem.
