The sound of countless footsteps thundered across the ground.
HUD! THUD! THUD!
The once-peaceful grassy plains trembled beneath the weight of the approaching dead. Thousands of zombies surrounded the orc village nestled in the center of the open field. Among the horde, two massive, iron-skinned zombies—Tanks—charged like wild bulls, smashing through anything in their path.
CRACK! BOOM!
A wooden wall of the orc village shattered instantly under their impact, sending orcs screaming in panic. Without a chieftain to lead them, their defense was utterly disorganized. Some tried to fight back with crude weapons, but their formation was broken, and no commands could be heard.
I sat calmly on a thick tree branch not far from the battlefield. My body remained still, but my undead eyes observed the chaos below with sharp focus.Beneath me, Tyrant stood tall like a personal sentinel, unmoving. His arms crossed over his chest, his eyes vacant yet intimidating.
