Broken bone clubs, spurting blood.
Slaughter and bloodshed filled this valley, which had not seen conflict for who knew how long.
Charred corpses lay piled in the narrow passage. The rock walls were spattered with dark bloodstains and streaks of grease left behind after being vaporized by intense heat.
The stench of burnt flesh, the sour, rotten body odor of ogres, and the acrid scent that came before a storm.
They were the lingering byproducts of repeated casts of [Lightning Bolt] in the air.
The concentration of magic within this valley far surpassed anywhere on the wasteland, so dense it could almost be felt against the skin, like an invisible veil draped over the entire valley.
As Demonic Beasts, they had been drawn here by nature.
Wasteland beasts, lizardfolk, hundreds upon thousands of Goblins, and even greater numbers of wasteland spiders—every one of them had been driven off, devoured, or enslaved by these ogres.
Now, it was the turn of a group of uninvited guests.
They did not know why these humans had come here.
Even though the corpses of their own kind already littered the area.
Their dull brains held no such complicated concept as retreat.
Whether it was the instinctive craving for the flesh and blood of intelligent creatures granted by Yenog's blessing, or some deeper urge that even they themselves did not understand—it no longer mattered.
A ceaseless stream of their kind surged forth from deeper within, filling the gaps left by the fallen.
The encirclement slowly tightened.
The smell of sweat and blood kept flooding their nostrils, driving every ogre forward.
Forward.
And forward again.
Her right arm suddenly tensed.
The sword flashed. Holy light imbued with the power of faith burst into dazzling golden brilliance along its edge, severing the unbalanced head before her.
The