Ildrid could not maintain his skeletons, but it did not matter for Maras’s Ghouls crashed into the flank of some of the Demons, they were heard screaming, they immediately attempted to blunt the attack. Pikes, swords and fire were used against the Undead, but it was the Demons whose fleshy exteriors were ripped into; Ghoul claws poisoned the Demons they scratched, the Demons were pushed back, the Demons tried their hardest to stabilise their lines. Maras’s Ghouls were one thing, but it would be the newly promoted Ghoul Lord who would save Maras and Ildrid from certain doom. Large Demons heard nothing until they were swamped from behind; the beasts barrelled into their rear with animalistic scratching. Basara did not attack for too long, even 30,000 Ghouls could only fight the battle for so long against so many Demons, for they were being reinforced constantly. Maras despite being dead could smell, he could smell all the corpses. Demon anguish was not that different from Human anguish. He closed his eyes and turned toward Basara.

“Thank you Basara,” Maras said inaudibly to anyone but Basara, “you must save yourself now.”

Basara extricated the Ghouls expertly, while Maras and Ildrid retreated from the plains in defeat, the double envelopment was too much for Maras, instead they teleported to hills, crags and mountains. Spectres assassinated the Demons down below as the Demons furiously searched for the location of their foe. Basara fled the battlefield back to Bacterium to gather resources. Skeleton archers, crossbowmen and bowmen formed on the ridges, Ildrid readied himself to re-engage the Demons. It was an endless haze in the Demon world, not that the Undead needed sleep, but it was hard to tell how much time had passed, but it was at least three Human days. Spectres slowly whittled and attacked the Demons, before they sent some of their forces into the mountain passes. In the end Maras found that there were already a lot of Demon forces in these mountains. Flying Demons paradropped forces in, Devil commandos appeared.

“Time to die bonehead! Permanently!”

Reapers battled them, upward, downward and sideways, scythe slices were blocked, held by the flesh like it was armour, for the metal could not penetrate far enough. Maras’s Ghouls pushed the Devils down, scratching and ultimately killing the three that had tried to surprise them. Maras’s operations against the Demons in the area had invited 10 armies to try and quash him. Maras smelled blood, but mostly he smelled the anger on the Demons tongues, even from afar it was hard to not notice such intense bloodlust. In himself he was a quiet brooding commander, understood by few.

“Thanks for saving me out there, if it wasn’t for you, I would have been ground into powder,” Ildrid said breathlessly, albeit he had no breath, but he clearly felt the pressure of combat.

“Always Ildrid. Always. I’ll save you every time. Even if the world is against us, no one will know of that glory, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen,” there was something soft in Maras’s voice.

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Ildrid was quiet for a moment, a skeleton could not cry, but it looked again at the other skeletal figure. Ildrid had deep respect for his compatriot in arms, deeper than he would express in words.

“Humans won’t even know our names,” Ildrid said.

“And yet, here we are.”

Maras launched a brutal attack, it was chaotic, it was insane, it was bloody. Reapers and Spectres came out of nowhere to attack Demon reconnaissance parties, the plains that led to the forts below, they were now being peppered with arrows and bolts. The skeletons got their full revenge on the Demons. Goblins watched the carnage below, watching as Undead sliced, and ripped. It was suicidal but it was effective.

“They’re over there! We can kill the Undead commanders!” One Demon soldier said pointing them out.

A peasant stock Demon promoted above his station had command over 1000 imps and 1000 regulars, looked with awe at the carnage wrought on troops some kilometres ahead.

“What do we do commander?”

If we just charge in we will be slaughtered. But if I delay too long I could be charged with treason, demoted.

“Advance forward!” He screamed, trying to inspire himself as much as he was his men.

Thousands were already dead, spearmen sliced in half by reapers that carried their twirling scythes; Spectres hopped from place to place killing commander and common soldier alike. Ghouls rushed them from many directions, it seemed they had been summoned on the spot, and they had been, causing much carnage to the Demons.

“I will give you a show,” Maras whispered.

He gave them an orchestra of death. Ghouls, Spectres and Reapers killed most spectacularly, at some point the randomness of Spectres faded, and Ghouls and Reapers ripped apart the Demons. Large Demon soldiers, magic wielding soldiers and mere infantry were crushed with utmost ferocity. Pools of blood, became lakes, in some places people had to hop; of course to Ghouls and Reapers this was nothing. Reapers floated around, Ghouls outright emerged from the lake to add to it. The low born Demon commander was in the fray, his soldiers ripped apart.

“No! Erez! Fuck. Damn you Undead!”

His head was cut off, his achievements ended there. Maras checked up on Ildrid, skeletons poured down the mountain, axe wielding and spear wielding, the Spectres and Ghouls merely continued their killing while the crimson stained skeletons plunged their weapons into Demon bodies. A horde of imps charged at the skeletons for they intended to blunt the Undead advance, but it was futile. Ghouls scratched at anything like wolverines, and with each death that only added to the cascade of Undead. Goblins watched from atop the neighbouring mountains.

“That is a Necromancer…” a father said to a son, “a person who wields death, who is death.”

“Death…” the son said.

Green skin, hooked nose, claw like hands, boils in some places, leathery skin, and short statures.

“Why is he here?” The son asked in a questioning tone.

“I don’t know son, I wonder does it even know?” The Goblin father trembled.

Both trembled at the thought, to them it was creepy, but it was not the target of the Undead’s ire.

The battle progressed to where Maras was before, he fully integrated his Undead army to the location, fully committing Ghouls and Reapers.

“I am Maras! I have come to make sure you never wage war on Humans, to make sure you never wage on our lands ever again!” The Undead Lord boomed across the valley, “your Demon Lord will be killed by me.”