The battlefield had descended into a cacophony of screams, steel, and the grotesque sound of flesh tearing. What began as a march of courage had devolved into chaos. The abominations—towering, sinewed masses of death stitched by dark sorcery—were unleashed in full. The air itself seemed to tremble from their bellowing roars, each one echoing across the blasted plain like thunder breaking through a tomb.
The knights of Virencia, brave as they were, found themselves facing the true horror of what they had sworn to destroy. Dozens had already fallen, their armour crumpled inward like tinfoil beneath the weight of monstrous claws. The ground was littered with broken banners, shattered blades, and the unrecognisable remains of those who only moments ago shouted prayers of faith and defiance.