The great battle at Nanshu Base finally ended three days later. When the last zombie's head was smashed open, the once-clean and prosperous base was now littered with rotting corpses.
The huge speakers He Shang had hastily made finally stopped their looping broadcast after several days. Once that strange melody vanished, the base instantly became empty and terrifying.
Mountains of corpses filled the eye, their smashed heads spilling brain matter everywhere, black viscous sludge covering the ground.
Black zombie blood had stained the entire base, seeping underground through the cracks in the earth. For a long time to come, nothing would grow in this area, and the stench of decay would linger.
The scene at Nanshu Base was no less than hell. Anyone with poor mental fortitude probably could not stay here for even a moment without being driven mad by the horrifying sights everywhere.
Yet the Wolf Fang Regiment members who had fought here for a full week had grown accustomed to it in this short time. With the battle over, they emerged from every corner.
Some came out of base buildings, some from rooftops, some from the elevated platforms built by Wolf Fang's engineering teams, some from underground tunnels, and some even crawled out from beneath piles of corpses.
Their clothes were tattered, and zombie blood and flesh clung to their skin to varying degrees. They searched for their squads, gathered together, pushed aside the corpse mountains blocking the roads, and slowly made their way toward the command platform with exhaustion and pride.
The Third Combat Team's battle had also come to an end. The tall, broad outer walls of the base were now badly damaged, their tops blanketed in corpses. In the battle against the million high-level zombies swarming forward, no one had time to clear away