The streets of the city were a battlefield turned graveyard.
Alex led his undead army forward, the air filled with the sounds of crumbling stone and the faint metallic tang of blood.
His skeletons, grand skeletons, bony knights, and spectral wraiths moved with relentless efficiency, cutting down anything in their path.
Players who had once bravely charged forward now scrambled to escape, their confidence shattered.
"Keep going," Alex commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos.
The undead didn't hesitate. Each swing of their weapons and swipe of spectral claws ended another life, thinning the opposition with terrifying speed.
The defenders' morale was broken.
Cries of "Run!" and "We can't stop them!" echoed through the streets as survivors abandoned their posts.
The few who stayed behind made pitiful last stands, trying to buy time for others to retreat.
