Flames, thick smoke, and blood enveloped Lorne's military camp. The tide of the Undead and the minions of Chaos were devouring the last few places of resistance. Many dead were resurrected, becoming puppets of the Undead, regardless of how their companions called them during their lifetime, they swung their weapons at their comrades.
The sounds of hacking, screams, and roars echoed through the camp.
Mounting his warhorse, raising the Lion's Riding Spear, Lorne roared angrily at his subordinates: "Damn it! This cannot be! Why would the refugees collectively be corrupted by Chaos? And the Undead Army is coming from the direction of Aldred and Fulcard's camps! How could they accomplish this? How could they silently pass through their defense zones!? This is impossible!"
"My Duke! This is no time to think about it! We must charge out!" The Holy Grail Knight De Liones shouted at Lorne: "We must break through! Charge out!"
