Leaderless and demoralized, the surviving warriors scattered, their spirits broken. Fear rippled through the remaining goblins and kobolds, who had numbered nearly 9,000 before their leaders fell. The battlefield was a chaotic mess of fleeing bodies, desperate cries, and the noise of bodies dropping. But there would be no mercy today.
Canna had no plans on letting any one of them escape. His eyes gleamed with cold determination as he surveyed the panicked masses. "No one leaves this battlefield alive," he said, his voice a low, deadly promise.
Mortem and Vorgrim, equally relentless, flanked him on either side. Mortem's dark robes billowed around him as he raised his staff, muttering incantations that summoned skeletal hands from the ground. These skeletal minions clawed and tore at the fleeing warriors, dragging them back into the fray. Vorgrim, a towering figure of death, charged forward with a roar, his weapons a blur of lethal motion.
The three hours that followed were a symphony of slaughter.
Canna moved through the battlefield with deadly grace, his scythe cutting down goblins and kobolds alike. Lightning crackled around him, each strike of his weapon sending arcs of electricity through his enemies. They fell in droves, their bodies convulsing as the lightning tore through them. The scent of burnt flesh filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood.
A group of goblins tried to form a defensive line, their spears pointed towards Canna in a desperate attempt to fend him off. Canna smirked, raising his scythe high. He brought it down in a sweeping arc, the blade slicing through spears and bodies with ease. Lightning erupted from the scythe, spreading through the ranks of goblins and reducing them to charred husks.
Nearby, Mortem was a dark specter of death. He moved with eerie fluidity, his staff casting spells that summoned undead horrors to the battlefield. Skeletal warriors, their eyes glowing with malevolent energy, clawed their way out of the ground. They advanced on the kobolds, their bony hands tearing through flesh and bone.
Mortem's cold, detached gaze never wavered as he directed his minions with precise, deadly intent.
Tonitrum's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Rest now, for the next battle will come soon enough. Remember, Canna, every soul you harvest brings you one step closer to getting your dragon egg hatched."
Canna nodded, his resolve unbroken. He turned to Mortem and Vorgrim, his loyal subordinates who had fought by his side with unflinching loyalty. "Prepare yourselves," he said quietly. "This is only the beginning."
The three of them moved deeper into the dungeon, their minds already turning towards the next battle. The bloodshed and carnage they had wrought today were a grim reminder of the path they had chosen. There would be no turning back now. The quest for power, for the souls they needed, would drive them forward, no matter the cost.
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Kael and Grimruk watched with the help of Tonitrum's spell. The sounds of battle echoed across the battlefield, the clash of steel and the crackle of lightning carrying on the wind. Grimruk's brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed as he observed the relentless carnage.
"They fight like demons unleashed," Grimruk muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and unease.
Kael nodded, his gaze fixed on the figures of Canna, Mortem, and Vorgrim cutting through the enemy ranks like a scythe through wheat. "I didn't know Canna was like that, I mean I knew he was strong but damn," he said quietly. "I should stay on his good side"
Grimruk grunted in agreement, his blood boiling with excitement. "I think I have made my decision"