Accompanied by ripples in the space, the portal opened on the devastated plain.
"Whoosh—"
The north wind howled.
Wild grass bowed with the wind.
This was the site of the former Battle of Okaglar. On the flat ground, there were still craters from shelling and trenches dug by engineers, all remnants of the brutal war that had taken place here.
It buried tens of thousands of soldiers from the Northern Kingdom. However, over the months, most had been washed away by rain and eroded by insects and bacteria, gradually rotting and eventually being buried under thick soil, turning into deep underground fertilizer.
Night fell. All around was silent; only the sound of the wind and insects could be heard.
The lich, with its ghostly eyes flickering, gazed around at the desolate spirits wandering the wasteland, savoring the scent of death in the air.
Coming to such a "paradise," he should have felt ecstatic.
