Army of the Damned

VOLUME 11 Chapter 8

On the trenchline defending the empty concrete river, the Captain rises from his cover. Dirt all over his helmet cover as the ground rumbled and above them, a lone Broomstick flew into the red metropolis as an overwhelming sound of rotors and jet engines were slowly approaching them. The skies were now burning as the city was seemingly being boiled, the mist gone and the Legions revealed. Looking over to the canal, it was filled with the corpses of the zombies and skeletons that were thrown at them nonstop for the last few days.

Ash then started to rain down, the Gargoyles and Flying Swords all burnt to crisp to the point that before they could hit the ground, only cinders fell on the men on the ground. Looking up, all that remained was the slow fall of the feathers. Their swords and armors burnt alongside their bodies.

"That's the power of the Dragon Gods huh..."

"Captain! Sir!"

"Hm?"

"Look up!"

With the skies clear, the two Dragon Gods suspended midair with their armored wings hiding their entire body, the fighter planes approached from below as the magnificent creatures made sure they could be given a moment to shine. The Captain down below turned around to look at what was approaching them.

The Broom was the first to reveal itself as arrow formations of fighter jets and choppers took to the skies and into the city where the Legions of the Outer Realm were taken aback by the sheer amount of firepower coming at them from the skies. With death from above, it lets the players retake entire sections of the city that they lost half a day ago and the Giants shields rendered useless as hundred pound bombs were dropped right into their heads and the fight was once again shifted to the sides of the defenders. Giving glory to the fighters and boosting morale. "Well, well. Looks like they got this covered. Sergeant! Call for immediate airstrikes on that intersection."

"Sir yes sir!"

"And give me news on the Militiamen! Are they still defending the main bridge?"

"Yes sir, they're still there with Delta."

"Are they still not gonna follow our orders?"

"Negative sir, we tried telling them it's better to move to Downtown but they said they'll stay here."

"Tsk, this is why militias are so hard to deal with. Grrrrr, okay. We'll leave them be then."

Streaks of lead and fire were emitted from the rotorcrafts, as thousands of rounds were unleashed into the city streets. With joyous and momentous sounds of soldiers celebrating the sight of their enemies getting cut down by players high above the skies, merely as images on the screen of the warbirds. Continuously and devastatingly spitting fire onto the Legion without care.

Tinted and drowned with red, the city that was once so prosperous even with its problems was now a mere corpse of its former glory. A decapitated body, raped, pillaged, and removed of its clothes as the buildings that once stood to show the beauty of mankinds intellect, the will of man to reach the skies and create a world for it to linger without danger, now a mere garbage pit of weapons as the dead piled high onto every crevice of it.

Death from above, speaks the soldiers as they jumped and smiled and retake territory lost from their enemies. Wearing their dirtied uniform with great pride and ego, they attacked over and over again. Like the very Legion they are fighting against, the Players showed the same amount of useless regard to life. Knowing of their ability to respawn at Altars and the moment given to them by the Dragon Gods and their Generals with this massive air attack, they threw themselves over, and over, and over again without regard into the frey.