The Zombie Chimeras emerged from the nightmare forest, a relentless force that struck down the overcharged squad of the Denver House within seconds. The ground trembled under the weight of their monstrous bodies as they swarmed the unsuspecting soldiers, tearing through their ranks with savage efficiency.

Hundreds of chimera zombies overpowered them, leaving no chance of survival, even with their overcharge abilities. The soldiers fought valiantly, their weapons clashing against the unholy abominations, but it was like trying to stop a tidal wave with a single hand. The chimera zombies tore through the soldiers at an alarming rate, leaving a trail of blood and carnage in their wake.

In mere minutes, the human armies were cut down by half of what they were at the start. The knights, usually at the forefront of every battle, found themselves being pushed back, their armor no match for the relentless onslaught of the Zombie Chimeras.

“Fall back, everyone! Retreat to our side!” The knight captains bellowed as they witnessed their soldiers falling rapidly. Their voices carried authority and valor, but even they knew the dire situation they faced.

“I will hold them back. All soldiers, retreat immediately! Get the injured to the back lines,” Grad, commanded as he drew his second blade, engaging the Chimeras despite his fatigue. He was a formidable warrior, his blades moving with deadly precision, but even he could not withstand the unyielding tide of the undead.

“Soldiers, fall back immediately!” Frank’s voice echoed across the battlefield as the soldiers regrouped, returning to their previous positions. The chimera zombies halted their attack and retreated into the forest, their eerie growls lingering in the air.

“Huh? The big zombies have retreated?”

“Sir, they’ve returned to the forest.”

As soon as Derein, saw this, she immediately understood the opposite team’s strategy.

“He wants to turn our soldiers into zombies,” Derein declared, her eyes narrowing as she analyzed the situation.

“How do you know?” Grok, the king renowned for his strength and wisdom, asked, opening his eyes and focusing on Derein.

“Sir Grok, you are awake! Oh my God, thank the heavens!” One of the healers rushed to Grok’s side, her relief evident on her face.

Grok stood up with the help of the healer, glancing at his bandaged legs. He offered a slight smile and spoke, “Well, those seem like some serious side effects, huh?”

“You used forbidden skills and killed hundreds of our soldiers. That’s not how a king behaves, I believe,” Derein said with a neutral expression, unable to ignore the consequences of Grok’s actions.

“Well, I am not a king on the battlefield. I am just a normal soldier, just like them. I saved my friend and your future husband from death’s grasp,” Grok acknowledged, realizing the price he had paid for his power.

“We lost this battle. They are too many. If we keep fighting here, they’ll overwhelm us. If we push them back, those abominations will emerge from the forest and slaughter our soldiers relentlessly. He can easily kill all of us, but he wants us to suffer a slow death, transforming into his zombies,” Derein explained grimly, her mind racing for a viable strategy.

“Well, they will not succeed,” Grok declared, determination gleaming in his eyes as he stood up, not willing to back down.

“Sir Grok, you are still hurt. You can’t return to the battlefield,” a young girl, about 13 years old, tried to stop him, her eyes filled with concern.

Grok smiled warmly at the girl and patted her head. “If I don’t fight today, your families will have to fight tomorrow. You don’t want that, do you, kiddo?”

“But you are injured,” the girl protested with genuine worry.

“I know. This is the life of a king. You’re born on the battlefield, and you die on the battlefield. Thanks to you, I can fight once again. So, thank you, kiddo,” Grok expressed proudly with a warm smile, his heart touched by the girl’s concern. .𝘤𝑜𝑚

“Please take this if you want to fight,” the girl offered a slick-looking necklace with an angel figure in the middle.

Grok took the necklace, feeling a refreshing sensation in his body. “This is a healing over time artifact?”

“Yes, sir. My mother gave it to me before I left home and came here,” the girl said with a mix of pride and sadness in her voice, knowing the importance of the necklace.

“But I can’t take it. Your mother gave it to you, little one,” Grok attempted to return the necklace, not wanting to accept such a precious gift.

“Sir, my mother gave this to me so she wouldn’t have any regrets if I die on this battlefield today. But I will be at peace if you fight for us today,” the girl said with a tearful smile, her voice filled with determination.

Derein felt moved by the girl’s selflessness. “Sob-Sob How cute of her. You should accept it,” Derein encouraged, her heart touched by the girl’s act of bravery.

“Alright, today this king is indebted to you, kiddo. If I survive this battle, I will repay you many times over,” Grok promised, knowing that he couldn’t let her sacrifice go in vain.

“Please survive, Sir Grok. I will be waiting here for you,” the girl said, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“If only I had a daughter, I can guarantee she would’ve been like you,” Grok remarked, wearing the necklace around his wrist, the angel figure shining in the moonlight.

“So, what’s with this figure? Is she a goddess you worship?” Grok inquired, looking at the figure hanging in the middle of the locket.

“Yes, sir. She is the goddess of fortune, Maria. She stands with those who lose on the battlefield and blesses them with her soldiers to help turn the tide. It is said that she sends her holy blessed soldiers from heaven to assist the side being bullied on the battlefield,” the girl shared the story of the goddess Maria, her voice carrying a mix of faith and hope.

“Well, I hope she sends some of them here,” Grok stated, tapping the girl’s head one last time before leaving the camp with Derein.

“The moon is out,” Grok observed with a smile as the rain stopped and the sky cleared, revealing the moonlight that bathed the battlefield in an ethereal glow.

“Sir, your royal sword is here,” a soldier rushed towards the camp, presenting Grok with a slim, double-edged sword with intricate engravings.

“Ah, my one and only partner, Lina,” Grok spoke, taking the sword from the soldier’s hand, its steel gleaming under the moonlight.

As Grok held the sword, a loud sound resonated above the battlefield.

Cawwwww