They had gone mad. They had all gone mad!
The dread demons had gone on a killing spree. Every Dreadlord had the blood of at least fifty allied soldiers on his hands. Yet even their swift, lethal slaughter could no longer shake the allied soldiers' resolve. The combined forces advanced rapidly, and neither of the Undead Scourge's two massive charges had stopped them.
No matter how quickly the Dreadlords killed, they could not stop nearly ten thousand allied soldiers from attacking with the force of a tsunami.
"Stop them, you useless trash!" Varimathras roared. He seized an Undead Mage fleeing from the front and demanded to know why he had retreated.
The Undead Mages all possessed wills of their own. They had already given up their lives once and naturally had no desire to do so a second time.
Their will to fight had crumbled before the allied assault. Fleeing placed no burden on their consciences. They saw no shame in it.
"My lord, we can no longer hold these humans back. We can only rely on the reinforcements coming up from the rear to counterattack and wear them down..."
"Excuses! You cowardly fool!"
Before the Undead Mage could finish, Varimathras crushed his head.
The Dreadlords had finally entered the battle and helped the Undead Scourge push the human allied forces back to their last defensive line.
In other words, the high-ground towers and barracks had all been razed. Only the two towers in front of the Ancient remained.
No one had expected the enemy to channel Sylar-a Dota 2 joke often used to tease the professional player for buying a Divine Rapier with his back to the Ancient and attempting a dramatic comeback, though he lost most of those games-and force the creep wave back out. They had even