The low, strange cloud curtain obstructed her vision, and Loria didn't know where she was, and she and the others had little flying experience, relying on the dwarves to navigate...... The Hammer Dwarves lent out a dozen griffons, and although Loria knew they didn't like her very much, the well-trained Hammer Griffins didn't throw her off for the time being.

Gradually, she noticed that the griffons began to lower in height, and the all-too-familiar land returned to her sight, and now, she knew for sure, that she had been born here, and that Rocka and Darien had died here.

This is home.

To Tyran, his homeland would always be the rich valley, and Stratholme, or now the Eastern Plaguelands, was a distant place for him as a child, and now, he turned his head to look at the familiar faces, and they were going to die in this far-flung land.

The giant fell, but his corpse made it impossible for the undead to attack, the ghouls and skeletons used the huge undead corpses as a bridge, and were pouring towards Stratholme, the warriors had retreated from the walls, the crossbowmen had withdrawn from the towers, and they formed a small circle in the square, with warriors and paladins outside, priests and crossbowmen included, this was the usual formation of the Crusaders against the large number of undead, and it also meant that a decisive battle was coming.

Tyran could see a tentacle cut through the corpse of the troll, knocking a dozen undead into the air, but soon, it was torn to pieces by the swarming undead, and the silver-haired girl could not participate in a high-intensity battle for a month in a row, no matter how magical she was.

Perhaps the strategy of soloing failed in the first place, for example, today's Disaster does not hate Loria much less than it does for Silver Dawn, and while the capture of Stratholme is inspiring, it is impossible to hold such a large city with a few hundred men...... Defeat is almost inevitable, even if Loria is here, it can't be stopped, a great magician is a strong help, but it can't determine the direction of countless wars.

Tyran shook his head and stood at the forefront, he faced the surging undead, relieved that Loria was not here, everyone would fail, she was still young, she would lead the rest of the people to avenge them, maybe one day, she or someone else could really banish the undead from the land.

"Our sacrifice means a lot!"

The catapult was still working, and from time to time bombs flew over people's heads, falling far away in the crowd of undead, but they had no impression of the situation of the battle, and the paladins who had been withdrawn from the city walls earlier clenched the hilt of their swords tighter and tighter, and they saw what seemed to be an endless number of undead—the main force of the scourge, attacking without warning, and the continuous months of raids had numbed the crusaders to the news that the scourge was nearby.

"The Light is with us!"

Roars erupted in small circles, the priest's mantra provided a temporary shield for the warriors from harm, and the warm light flowed through the paladin's sword and hammer, a faint light that never faded in the darkness.

Tyran slashed at a ghoul that leaped towards him, the undead's foul-smelling blood sprayed in all directions, and without time to think, he immediately returned his sword and picked up a skeleton from the bottom up, but was blocked by the shield in the undead's hand, and the skeleton that took the lead slashed the rusted sword in his hand at him.

The warrior beside him used his shield to block the attack, and the power of the Holy Seal surged through his sword, and soon, the skeleton was reduced to splinters.

The priests chanted prayers, shielded the warriors from damage, and occasionally found time to break the siege with divine spells, and the crusaders, who were best at fighting the undead, had the upper hand at first, and the undead who flocked to them seemed to be in a senseless search for death, and soon the corpses of the undead were piled up around the small circles that approached each other.

But there will always be a time when manpower will be exhausted.

Tyran had lost count of how many undead he had killed, only his arms were numb, he swung his sword mechanically, the warriors around him had rotated twice, there were undead everywhere, the chain of command had failed, but they were still alive under the siege of the undead, and all the wounded were transferred to the depths of the city before the decisive battle began...... There was only a rudimentary iron gate between the square and the city, which was impossible to defend at all, and perhaps the undead had already invaded the rear at this moment......

In the fourth rotation, he was finally dragged into the circle by two warriors, as if with all his strength, he barely let the long sword fall to the ground, the numbness of his body seemed to be transmitted to his mind, he looked around blankly, several warriors were lying motionless on the ground, the priest was also exhausted, every syllable that came out of their mouths seemed to be dry and desperate, hearing the roar of anger a little farther away, he knew that the other circles had not been crushed, a little relieved, but with his eyes closed, he was about to lose it, he thought, even vampires don't have endless strength, and they can't stay focused forever。

Annihilation and sacrifice are close at hand, everyone has realized that living in this era and here, they are mentally prepared to die at any time, no one cries or collapses, but the despair of death has firmly wrapped everyone.

Even if Silver Dawn's reinforcements arrived, they wouldn't be able to save them.

But they've killed countless undead, and even if those corpses can still be made into ghouls after being recovered, it will always take time, and this time, they may have contributed a lot to stop the invasion of the undead.

Tyran was suddenly grateful to Loria, and whether her decision was justified or not, she had always freed them from the terrible situation of cannibalism, and made death noble and glorious again.

Hold on, warriors.

Tyran rubbed his eyes, he seemed to be hallucinating.

The rough laughter and yelling that followed made him realize that it was not a delusion.

Just overhead, the graceful beasts swung their wings and circled, and the dwarves on their backs occasionally threw a bomb or a hammer from their pockets, and although there were only a dozen knights, it relieved the pressure on the crusaders for a while.

Several tentacles suddenly rose from all directions, and the gargoyles that followed the griffin were swept up one after another, and then slammed to the ground, and Alice, who had been passive and slacking off, suddenly became active as if she had been beaten with chicken blood.

Soon, Tyran understood why.

"Crusaders!

There was a small figure standing on the back of a low-altitude hovering griffon, and although it was too far away to see the face, no one would be unfamiliar with the unique voice and hair color.

Fight back? That's it? She's pumping her brain?

Without Tyran retelling the order, the Scarlet Crusaders fought back when she was seen jumping from the back of a griffin into the pile of the dead.

The scroll of cloth had been scattered, and the box had been thrown somewhere, and it had burned out a lich hiding in a pile of dead men before it was first revealed to the world.