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

Undead Army, they were much fewer. The ratio was

~WHOOOOOM!~

quality, the Grand Elementals were

into battle. They cared not for the wave of Miasma they were headed for, or the horrible Undead that

cared for was

up weapons, or relied on 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.

simply a

this, Elementals had to constantly keep up a barrier. In a way, this served as a form of passive protection, while also doing their

ones, however, these

whom shared a very intense climate of Mana. The pressure of pure energy that surrounded them was more

was even

began to thin out at a rapid pace—almost as if the opposite of Miasma Poisoning was taking

as this was happening, the slaughter of the

Yes… the slaughter.

kill—not only due to the Miasma, but also due

were blasted off, Undead entities would keep fighting.

abilities, making them practically impossible to deal

to completely eliminate an Undead is by destroying every facet of their body—preferably in

slice off the head, or even decapitate the

the very destruction that they liked to dish out. By destroying their entire bodies—either by setting them ablaze, or crushing them

some special regenerative Skills, their chances

they maintain the Level that they had during their lifetime, but they also had their

major threats and worthy challenges for the

~BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!~

… Or not.

stand a chance

sacks of rotting meant to be

they were much stronger than normal Undead, but that did them no benefit when

reason was simply due to a difference in

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

A-Tier

damage on the Undead, and even if they did, only the small fry would suffer it. However, it worked to their detriment

much faster than the average Monster, easily sweeping through them and destroying them before they could even comprehend what was happening, but by

such an

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

and easily

… So powerless.

help would come

supposed to serve as an active backup for the footsoldiers. Unfortunately