The battlefield was a cacophony of chaos—the roar of monstrous beings, the clashing of weapons, the screams of pain and fury, all blending into a symphony of war. Before me stretched my undead army, bolstered by the chaotic energy of the abyss. They surged forward like a tide of death, meeting the monstrous forces summoned by Tiamat's eight wings. Each wing had unleashed a different type of chaos—demonic imps, writhing tentacles, serpentine horrors—a veritable catalog of destruction. And I knew this was only the beginning.