The warships had surprisingly halted just beyond the range of the allied artillery. The largest of them, glowing faintly in the twilight with a sinister feel, drifted to the forefront. From its lower deck, a smaller vessel descended, carrying a single figure.
The envoy was a grotesque amalgamation of flesh and tal. Its hollow eyes glowed with an unnatural light, missing a nose even with all its flesh, and its voice, amplified by so unseen chanism, carried across the battlefield.
"You stand against the will of the supre Lord Mortis," the envoy intoned. "Your resistance is futile. Surrender now, and you may yet be used for sothing better."
So of the allied leaders exchanged glances, the tension thick as the envoy's words hung in the air. King Aldric stepped forward, his massive fra exuding defiance, his every movent brimming with raw power.
"Surrender?" Aldric repeated, his voice laced with disdain. "He dares demand surrender from us?"
"Well, at least his intentions are clear. No chance of surrender even." Lance said, his tone a bit light. Perhaps it was because he didn't feel any pressure from his enemies, but he wasn't as bothered as he would normally be.
Without another word, Ithil stretched a hand forward, his cast speed almost instantaneous as he conjoured a great fireball the size of a small building and hurled it towards envoy. The magic connected with the envoy, causing an explosion and shattering it into countless fragnts of tal and flesh, along with its platform.
The coalition forces erupted into cheers as the envoy's remains clattered into the sea, lifeless.
"That's our answer!" They roared.
The lead warship humd ominously again, its glowing runes pulsating with energy. Monts later, its massive hull split open, revealing a vast, dark interior.
Erie sounds escaped from within as waves of undead soldiers as they started to pour out, their forms a horrifying blend of flesh, bone, and armour. Spectral wraiths, armored skeletons, and hulking abominations erged, their numbers seemingly endless.
The other warships followed suit, releasing countless undead into the ocean. The tide of death surged forward like a wave, the waters churning as the undead went over each other relentlessly towards the shoreline.
"Positions!" Throrin bellowed, his hamr raised high. Out of the major leaders, he was the one leading the forces. "This is it!"
The coalition forces surged into action. The dwarves manned their artillery, their massive cannons aid at the advancing enemy, smashing against the waters filled with undead.
As the undead army drew closer, the air grew colder, and an unnatural darkness began to creep across the battlefield. The warships hovered ominously in the distance, their presence a constant reminder of the overwhelming power behind the undead forces, if their numbers weren't intimidating enough.
The stage was set, the lines drawn. The battle for the fate of the continent was about to begin.
…
The battlefield erupted into chaos as the undead army surged toward the shore, their unholy forms creating an unrelenting wave of death. The allied forces held their ground, their battle lines unshaken, but the sheer scale of the enemy forces lood like an impending storm against theirs.
Just then, from above, the sky darkened with the shadow of wyverns, their mighty wings slicing through the air. The wyvern king let out a deafening roar, rallying his kin to action.
The wyverns dove from the skies with terrifying speed, their massive forms cutting through the clouds. Flas erupted from their maws, fiery torrents raining down on the enemy warships.
The first wyvern struck a ship's deck, its claws tearing through steel like paper. With a ferocious swipe of its tail, it shattered a portion of its side exposing its interiors which it filled with flas, sending a cascade of debris into the ocean.
Another wyvern swooped low, its breath igniting an entire row of undead warriors on the ship's deck. The ship's hull cracked and groaned under the strain as wyverns clawed and battered it, forcing it to tilt precariously before capsizing into the churning waters, crushing a multitude of undead that were at the rear. Even then, a new batch that survived its flas when it shot into the deck sprawled out.
As so of the fallen warships began to sink, the wyverns turned their attention to the undead horde advancing on the shore. Diving low, they unleashed streams of fla, incinerating entire sections of the enemy ranks.
The undead, though relentless, faltered under the onslaught. Their ranks burned away, leaving scorched earth and boiling waters where their twisted forms had stood. Though, not all fell.
Lance watched from the front lines, his sharp eyes tracking the wyverns' movents. "The wyverns are proving their worth," he said, his voice steady.
"They're incredible," Aelyndra added, her golden eyes gleaming as she observed their coordinated strikes. "Their maneuverability is certainly superior." She said, comparing the wyverns to dragons.
Amid the aerial chaos, the wyvern king, a towering beast of imnse size and strength, roared once more. His wingspan alone blotted out the sky for multiple sections, as he descended toward the heart of the undead army.
The ground shook violently as he landed, his massive form creating a shockwave that sent hundreds of undead soldiers flying. His distance from the allied forces made sure they weren't affected. He then reared back, releasing a torrent of fla that scorched a wide swath through the enemy ranks.
The undead, though unfeeling, struggled to regroup under the relentless assault. The wyvern king moved like a force of nature, his claws raking through the masses while his tail swept dozens aside with each swing.
One hulking undead construct, a massive amalgamation, lumbered toward the wyvern king, its blade-like limbs slicing through the air.
The wyvern king snarled, rising to his full height. With a single strike of his claw, he shattered the creature into pieces, its remnants scattering across the battlefield.
"By the gods…" Throrin muttered from the allied lines, his voice filled with awe. "That beast is a living war machine." He said to himself, his mind rattling as they had co because of Lance, aning they had an alliance.
The wyvern king continued his rampage, his enormous bulk crushing dozens of undead with each step. His fire breath cleared entire ranks, and his re presence turned the tide in his favour.
As the wyverns pressed their advantage, the undead forces began to dwindle slowly. The warships that had not yet been destroyed retreated slightly, their decks crawling with reinforcents.
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