"Ahhh! Ahhh!"

Blood splattered into the sky, mixed with flesh and tissue. The crimson spray scattered in every direction.

Broken scales flew together with fragments of bone.

The Scorpion General managed to deflect the undead Royalty Stonewall’s blade strike and also managed to shift his body, leaning back a couple of inches to avoid the undead Storm Tyrant’s hammer strike.

His reaction was astonishingly fast as his battle instincts were pushed to their absolute peak. Any slower, and his head would have been crushed instantly.

Even though he pushed his body to the limit trying to avoid the undead Storm Tyrant’s terrifying hammer strike.

His body did not escape unscathed, as the hammer grazed his shoulder down to his chest. The terrifying impact peeled away layers of scales and his flesh immediately split open.

Blood erupted like a fountain.

Crack!

His scales shattered to pieces under the heavy strike, and the sound of his bones crushing could be heard from the distance.

But that was not the cause of his miserable scream.

It came from behind.

Caught in the attacks from both the side and front, he failed to react to the undead Kharv’s strike. His attention had been completely occupied.

The perfectly coordinated assault left him with no opportunity to defend himself and when he realized the horror of the strike, it was too late.

The realization came only a fraction of a second before the axe landed.

There was no chance to evade.

The deadly axe lodged deep into his back, at the exact joint where the stinger met his body. It was the weakest point of his otherwise heavily armored body.

Sturdy and defensive as his body was, it could not stop a terrifying strike from a Peak Bronze Grade weapon.

Even the General’s thick scales proved completely useless. The axe cut through the flesh like it was nothing, snapping the bone into pieces.

The terrifying sound of bones breaking rang throughout the battlefield. Blood exploded outward in an enormous bloody wave.

The massive stinger spun repeatedly through the air before finally crashing heavily onto the blood-soaked sand.

"Ahhhh! Ahhh!"

The Scorpion General let out a primal cry from the depths of his soul.

His roar was filled with agony.

It was filled with fury.

It was filled with humiliation.

The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt.

Blood gushed from his mouth and eyes and his breathing became erratic. Every heartbeat sent another wave of unbearable pain through his body.

His eyes turned a deadly crimson, veins protruding across his forehead. The blood vessels around his eyes bulged grotesquely as his entire face twisted from unbearable suffering.

Whoosh!

Filled with rage, he abandoned everything, consumed entirely by pain, rage, and humiliation.

His remaining rationality rapidly disappeared as the loss of his stinger had shattered his composure.

For every Scorpion clansman, their stinger represented their identity.

It represented their honor.

It represented their strength.

Now..

It was gone.

He swung his massive saber with all his might, creating a wide arc as the tremendous force behind the swing distorted the surrounding air.

Sand exploded outward in every direction. Its blade gleamed beneath the three moon light.

Anyone standing before such a strike would be split apart instantly.

The saber strike contained every one of his emotions.

Every ounce of hatred.

Every ounce of despair.

Every ounce of humiliation.

Everything was poured into this single attack.

Right now, he wanted nothing more than to tear the damned undead into pieces.

He no longer cared about survival.

He no longer cared about victory.

Even if he had to die, he would drag every undead behind him into the underworld.

Boom!

Just as he expected his strike to split the undead into two, five undead shield soldiers raised their shields and welcomed the attack head-on.

They stepped forward fearlessly, their massive shields locking together like an unbreakable wall as they met the terrifying saber.

Sparks flew everywhere.

The violent collision illuminated the battlefield as deafening metallic explosions echoed across the surrounding dunes.

The five undead shield soldiers stumbled backward, their soul fire flickering back and forth before returning to normal.

Their feet carved deep trenches into the sand from the overwhelming force behind the General’s strike, yet none of them collapsed.

Their shields remained intact without any dents or scratches.

Even after receiving the full force of the High Bronze Grade saber, the Peak Bronze Grade shields stood firm, displaying a level of defense that completely exceeded the General’s expectations.

"Argh!"

The General let out enraged howls as he watched the undead shield soldiers defend against his strike.

His furious roar shook the battlefield.

He hated them.

He hated everything.

More importantly, he hated the Necromancer behind the undead army.

In his eyes, everything that had happened today, from the destruction of his army to the loss of his stinger, was all because of that damned human.

The Scorpion Clan prided themselves as the superior species not because of their knowledge and massive army alone.

Their long history, powerful bloodline, and countless victories gave them confidence, but those were not the true foundation of their dominance.

But because they had weapons that could not be found anywhere in the Bleeding Desert.

The chest armor worn by the General was High Bronze Grade together with his massive saber.

On the Bleeding Desert, where even Low Bronze Grade equipment was rare, Middle and High Bronze Grade equipment was practically nonexistent.

Most powerful awakeners spent their entire lives wielding ordinary Iron Grade weapons, never once having the chance to lay their hands on such priceless treasures.

But not for the Scorpion Clan.

They had High Bronze Grade equipment, and this was one of the reasons they were undefeated in many wars in the past.

But now, against his unstoppable weapon, the General had met its match. The confidence he once had in his saber was slowly crumbling before his eyes.

How could a mere High Bronze Grade compare to Peak Bronze Grade equipment?

Staggering, the General looked at the undead soldiers with fear and caution for the first time.

His bloodshot eyes slowly swept across every elite undead surrounding him, and his heart gradually sanks.

’I should have escaped when I had the chance,’ he thought as regret crept into his heart.

His previous confidence had completely disappeared, replaced by an overwhelming sense of despair.

Never in his wildest dreams did he expect the undead army would be equipped with superior weapons.

He gritted his teeth, his eyes darting left and right, trying to find a weak spot through which he could escape.

His breathing became heavier with each passing second as the pressure surrounding him continued to increase.

But to his disappointment, he found none.

Worse, the undead army was not charging at him brainlessly but maintaining a perfect formation as they slowly tightened the encirclement.

In the distance, Thoren watched the cornered General, and a slow smile crept across his face.

Everything had unfolded exactly as he expected, and the battle had already entered its final stage.

"Let’s finish..." His voice trailed off when his undead Echo Scarabs picked up a vibration.

****

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