The dwarves quickly ran away, disappearing into the forest without looking back.
All that could be heard was their mocking laughter from afar.
They came quickly and left just as fast.
Their objective achieved, they retreated decisively.
Martin, clutching his giant sword, stood amidst the chaos and gazed at the scattered corpses.
A large number of giant bats and ghouls, along with numerous human soldier corpses.
Yet among them, not a single dwarf corpse existed, only two dead war sheep testified to the dwarves' presence.
The battlefield suddenly grew silent, no one dared utter a word at this moment.
Only the sound of chewing remained.
The ghouls crawled around the corpses, feasting indiscriminately, whether friend or foe, nothing could stop their post-battle meal.
In anger, Martin swung his sword.
The blood-red aura instantly split all the ghouls and corpses along its path, reducing them to blood slurry.
