The Undead Assault (8)

The battle at the southern wall of the Royal District had reached a fever pitch. The undead were relentless, their grotesque forms clawing and dragging themselves up the stone walls with horrifying tenacity. The defenders, once confident and strong, now found themselves overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the enemy. Their faces were weary, their bodies bruised, yet they held their ground. But it was becoming clear that this would not last much longer.

Among the soldiers, a female archer named Eveline stood at the front, her bow drawn, her hands trembling. She had seen death before, but never like this. The wall was lined with the bodies of the fallen, their faces contorted in eternal agony. The undead that climbed over them were once people—friends, family, even comrades—now become mindless monsters whose only goal was to kill the living. There were children among them, their small hands reaching for the defenders as if trying to drag them down.