Barns grips his belt, eyes scanning the field ahead. The open plains stretch out before them, eerily silent except for the distant shuffling of thousands of undead feet. The morning sun filters through the haze, casting a dull, washed-out glow over the battlefield.
He exhales sharply. 'Time to get to work.'
Three teams. Three objectives. One goal - wipe out the horde, and resurrect two thousand more souls to the Kingdom of Dimartino.
Easy in theory, right? Except for the fact that zombies don't go down easily, and beheadings were out of the question. As such, the conventional zombie-killing methods were off-limits. At least they have a trench, already filled and frothing with foam, to lead the undead into.
Zombies are too stupid to avoid such an obvious trap, after all.
Barns and Clancy stand in the center of the operation, positioned at the heart of the battlefield where the undead will be funneled.
