The war between the Dark Lord’s forces in the west and the Central Alliance intensified.

There was never a quiet day on the front lines given the daily battles against the demonic horde, and the veteran elites of the kingdoms continued to suffer losses through these endless battles.

The comrades one fought back to back with on one day became a corpse the following day that rushed with reckless abandon against its former allies with his rotting claws and teeth. The soldiers shed blood and tears as they stabbed these comrades through their hearts.

The battlefield where even death was blasphemed was nothing short of hell.

Time continued to pass, and the end of the war remained nowhere in sight. The soldiers even grew desensitized to the acts of beheading their former allies turned undead.

“If I fall to the demonic beings, kill me before I become one of the undead.”

“I don’t want to become undead. Don’t leave my body behind.”

The soldiers no longer calmly waited for their deaths. If they suffered hopeless injuries, they chose to be decapitated by their closest comrades’ swords, and the bodies of the deceased were gathered together and burned.

The smoke of burning corpses rose and blackened the skies above the battlefield.

It would not end at this rate.

The leaders of the Central Alliance intuitively realized that the kingdoms would collapse at this rate.

The issue was not with the casualties suffered by their forces. By now, it had already been months...