Thoren merely glanced in the direction of the Scorpion Clan Palace Guards without any change in his expression.

To him, their arrival would not change the course of the battle.

And as for them, their fate was already sealed.

They might as well accompany their army to the netherworld.

With a thought, he sent two undead Sanguine Vultures to finish them off while he focused his attention on the almost concluded battle.

The two crimson undead immediately disappeared into the sky without making the slightest sound.

Now, the Scorpion General was barely standing.

His towering body, once capable of intimidating countless enemies, now swayed unsteadily as though it could collapse at any moment.

His body was riddled with injuries.

Deep and shallow cuts scattered throughout his body.

Blood continuously seeped from the countless wounds, staining both his armor and the crimson sand beneath his feet.

His High Bronze Armor was covered in cracks while some parts were in fragments.

The once-proud armor that had accompanied him through countless victorious battles had long lost its former brilliance.

Gasping heavily, the General looked at the undead servants with confusion. His breathing became increasingly ragged as every inhale sent waves of pain throughout his battered body.

With his current strength, he knew he should have been killed.

He did not even have ten percent of the power he possessed at his peak.

And still, standing with the undead that never lost their power was something that puzzled him.

’The Necromancer behind them must be plotting something...’ he thought, and his face darkened.

He tried to guess the thoughts of the Necromancer but couldn’t.

Every possibility he considered was immediately rejected, leaving him with nothing but growing uneasiness.

His actions had confused him greatly.

If the Necromancer truly wished to kill him, countless opportunities had already presented themselves, yet the undead merely continued wearing him down instead of delivering the final blow.

Looking over the surrounding undead servants, he realized the entire Scorpion Army had fallen.

Dead.

None were standing.

Only their dead bodies were scattered throughout the desert. Everywhere he looked, familiar faces lay motionless upon the crimson sand, their lifeless eyes forever fixed toward the blood-red sky.

In some areas, their dead bodies piled up, forming small mountains.

Broken weapons, shattered armor, severed limbs, and snapped stingers were buried beneath layer upon layer of fallen Scorpion Men.

Fresh blood still flowed down like a small stream.

Watching everything, the General’s heart ached.

Never in his life did he expect he would lose all the soldiers under his command.

Worse, to a human from a lesser species.

He had built the Scorpion Army into what they were later known for.

The Invisible Army of the Scorpion Clan.

This was his pride.

The reason why everyone feared and respected him.

And now, he had lost it all.

Just thinking about it, a heavy sigh escaped from his throat.

It carried sorrow, unwillingness, and despair, sounding unusually lonely amidst the blood-soaked battlefield.

Suddenly, his muscles tensed up and his instincts flared.

He did not have time to think; he reacted instinctively, swinging his saber to deflect the incoming attack.

From behind, the undead Elite Jackal Beastman swung its spiked club with terrifying momentum.

The massive weapon tore through the air with frightening force, aiming directly for the back of the General’s head.

Bang!

The saber and the club collided, and bright sparks flew into the air.

A violent shockwave rippled outward from the point of impact, sending loose sand flying in every direction.

"Huh!"

The General stumbled, and a mouthful of blood escaped from his mouth, his face ghastly pale.

The tremendous force traveled through his already battered body, causing the wounds covering him to split open once again.

Before he could even catch his breath, he sensed deadly strikes coming from his left and right almost at the same time.

To the left, the undead Kharv swung its deadly axe, trying to cleave everything asunder.

And on the right, the undead Royalty Stonewall’s blade gleamed with horrifying sharpness. The cold blade reflected a chilling light as it silently flashed toward his exposed side.

Both attacks only meant one thing.

Death, if not defended.

Even though the General was at the end of his rope, he was unwilling to die just like that.

Thus, he pushed himself to the limit, summoning every ounce of strength left in his body to defend against the attacks.

Every muscle in his body screamed in pain as veins bulged beneath his cracked scales, desperately forcing out the last remnants of his strength.

Clank!

He moved with terrifying speed, deflecting the undead Kharv’s axe to the side while shifting his core and sending out a frightening punch toward the blade on his right.

His movements flowed almost perfectly despite his exhausted state. But to his shock, he discovered the blade attack was nothing but a feint.

’What in the Three Bloody Moons...’ His eyes widened with disbelief.

He could never understand how undead could perform a feint. Such techniques required intelligence, qualities that mindless undead should never possess.

However, the answer came immediately.

Just then, he felt the vacuum around him compress to the limit, trembling vehemently.

The surrounding air became unbearably heavy, as though an invisible mountain had suddenly descended upon him.

And from the corner of his eyes, he saw what was coming.

A hammer.

The massive hammer was only a fraction of an inch from his chest when he noticed it.

The enormous weapon filled his vision completely, blotting out everything else on the battlefield.

His instincts screamed for him to move his body.

His mind raced with various movements that he could use to evade the deadly attack, but every possibility disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

Unfortunately, the attack was too sudden, leaving no room for any maneuver.

Perhaps, if he were still in his peak form, he might still have a chance to deflect the attack.

With his former strength and speed, he could have avoided such a deadly combination without much difficulty.

But now, with his body reaching its limit, he could only watch as the hammer slammed into his chest.

Time itself seemed to slow as helplessness filled his eyes.

Bang!

****

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