An Extra’s POV

"ROOOOOOOAAAAAARRR!!!"

The loud screeches of the undying ones rushed through the air like a perverse trumpet. As their coarse, bitter sound resounded throughout the battlefield, the ground shook as a result of their march… just as the air trembled as a result of their flight.

The army of death—the very one that every single Elf had feared for months now—were marching towards them in hordes unseen before.

A few thousand Dragons decorated the sky, but the majority of forces came from the Monsters that looked just as grotesque as—if not more than—the Undead Dragons.

Their rotting flesh was held in place by the disturbing Miasma that filtered around the individual members of the army and formed a cloud over the entire group.

Their threatening presence was enough to—

~BOOOOOOOOOOM!~

The first projectile that was launched from the Camp of the Elves marked the start of their own march—both figuratively and literally.

It was all a blur, but the 'thing' that was thrust into the air by the Elves and one of their trebuchet-looking catapults was able to instantly obliterate one of the Undead Dragons that charged towards them.

The horrid creature's entire body was set ablaze in an advent of flames and pressure, completely reducing to dust in only a few seconds.

There was no moment of silence that followed.

The army of the dead could show no hesitation, and so they merely kept marching forward. Unfortunately for them, they weren't the only army that lacked the shackles of emotions.

"RISEEEEE!!!"

As those words burst out into the air—spoken by the voices of all the Elves within the barricaded Camp—yet another miracle happened.

~RUMBLE!~

The earth began to shake.

~RUMBLE!~

It parted, creating a straight line across the earth which made way for the new participants in the battle. ~RUMBLE!~

Their emergence caused the air around to undulate. It felt like everything around them was unraveling as they arose from their depths—the Grand Elementals.

Flames. Water. Earth. Wind. Lightning.

One of these base Elements made up each Elemental, and there was enough variety among them that the battleground soon became a colorful field. No longer was it painted in black, matched with a dreary splash of purple. Instead, it seemed flowers—or perhaps glorious lanterns of bright colors—had sprung out of the earth to add a new flavor to the canvas of death.

Each Grand Elemental stood proud and tall, all of them bursting with abundant Mana and an intensity of the element they represented.

they were only a

ratio was about

~WHOOOOOM!~

terms of quality, the Grand Elementals were not lacking

the Elementals bravely charged into battle. They cared not for the wave of Miasma they were headed for, or the horrible Undead that glared at them with immense

the Grand Elementals cared

Magic-like effects to break into the vanguard, completely wrecking the formation of the Undead with the overwhelming strength that they had. Unlike with living entities, Elementals could not particularly suffer from Miasma Poisoning. If the Miasma in the atmosphere was too intense, an Elemental could perish due to its Mana being eaten away

simply a fatal

this served as a form of passive protection, while

for the undying ones,

of Mana. The pressure of pure energy that surrounded them was more than

it was even

to thin out at a rapid pace—almost as

as this was happening, the slaughter of the Undead was being carried

Yes… the slaughter.

simply very difficult to kill—not only due to the Miasma, but also due to

off, Undead entities would keep fighting. They were machines that

had regenerative abilities, making them practically impossible to deal

an Undead is by destroying every facet of their

simply cut off a limb, slice off the head, or even decapitate the head. That

the very destruction that they liked to dish out. By destroying their entire bodies—either by setting them ablaze, or crushing them beyond recovery—the Undead would have no

special regenerative Skills,

maintain the Level that

were major threats and

~BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!~

… Or not.

stand a chance

rotting meant to be completely

had the advantage of numbers, and they were much stronger than normal Undead,

due

were B or C Tier, with a few being A-Tier. The A-Tier Undead often served as Generals,

would an A-Tier be encountered

well due to the inability of the Elves to deal any lasting damage on the Undead, and even if they did, only the small fry would suffer it. However,

even comprehend what was happening, but by the time the

such an Undead

their best, based on the instructions of their Master—seemed to not be

they died so quickly and easily made them

… So powerless.

would think that help would come

all, the Undead Dragons dominated that space, and as such… they were supposed to serve as an active backup for the footsoldiers. Unfortunately for the