The Price

Marlene smashed another Ghoul's head flat and glanced at the troops around her. Nearly every guard holding back the enemy behind them was wounded.

The severely injured soldiers, after receiving emergency treatment from the priests, were tied onto horses and continued retreating with the column.

This force from Tyr's Hand had now endured several hours of intense fighting. Since escaping Stratholme, they had had no chance to replenish their food supplies. To free up horses and increase their speed, all supplies had been discarded near Stratholme.

What kept these soldiers fighting now, besides their hatred for the Undead, was their faith in the Holy Light. Yet that unwavering will—or rather, the army's morale—was steadily being worn down by the Undead. The pursuers biting at their heels had exhausted every soldier.

If they could not hold on until the end, everyone would die here.

To die wrapped in a horsehide, to fall upon the battlefield—such a fate did not seem so bad. Just as Marlene resigned herself to death, she heard soldiers at the front of the column cheering loudly. "Our reinforcements are here!"

She turned and saw the Scarlet Crusade's banner, the one she knew best, appearing ahead of the column, along with a flag of the Kingdom of Lordaeron scarred by war and fire.

Behind the banners rolled clouds of dust, and she could faintly make out many standards bearing white sunrays on black backgrounds. Those were Silver Dawn troops.

Bolstered by the arrival of reinforcements, the Scarlet Crusade soldiers erupted with fighting strength once more. They swiftly killed the small groups of Undead following closely behind them, quickened their pace, and joined up with the Silver Dawn reinforcements.

With this powerful aid, the human forces finally stabilized their position. Under the protection of the Silver Dawn's high-ranking knights,