A cold wind blew past, bringing with it the smell of corrosion. Dark clouds were gathering in the sky. The pitter-patter of rainfall had zero sense of romanticism whatsoever. The muddy ground and damp weather only served to drain everyone's stamina. Evidently, the weather conditions were quite beneficial for the undead, who knew no fatigue.
"Target is approaching the second defense line."
"Has everyone retreated? How many people are left at the first defense line?"
"Two teams were unable to retreat in time. We've tried our best already."
"May the Holy Light protect them. How's the situation at the second defense line?"
"Not so good. It's a temporarily constructed defensive blockade that can only buy some time."
Combat information kept flooding in. Every sudden battle that occurred always brought very little good news, but endless amounts of bad news.
