"Zzzzz~" The sound of igniters lighting powder fuses rang out from the Dwarf Array almost at the exact same time.

"That's the mighty Grimnir, aaahhh! He slew a dragon all by himself~!"

"That's the loving Valaya, aaahhh! She cut a whole cloak all by herself!"

The Dwarfs burst into song, and then a sky-darkening storm of Hand Grenades and blasting caps drowned the Desolate Grave Guard Legion. One explosion after another and billowing smoke completely shattered the offensive of the Undead right wing, the Iron Dragon Cannons roared to life, and the Fire Dragons they spat out devoured the onrushing Undead tide.

The fiercest of all was Belgar himself. He stood upon a rune stone of his Ancestors that he had retaken from Eight Peaks Mountain, loudly chanting the former glory of the Angland Clan. Under the protection of the Ancestral Soul, he had practically become an avatar of vengeance. A Blood Knight was killed on the spot when he smashed it with the Hammer of Angland.

"Uwaaaaahhh!" The shrill scream of a Griffin echoed across the entire battlefield. Laine, the Lake Fairy's Divine Chosen Champion, rode his Griffin and, together with the Pegasus Knights of the Swift Celestial Spear Association, fought in the skies against flocks of Bloodthirsty Celestial Ghosts. For now, the Knights seemed to have the upper hand, driving a pack of Bloodthirsty Celestial Ghosts before them. Every single Celestial Ghost lost made the Undead Grand Mage's heart ache.

The battle had entered a white-hot phase. Kemler and Mathew Bade watched the situation from a hastily erected command platform.

Mathew Bade could still keep his composure; Kemler was already growing restless and anxious.

On the left wing, the steel torrent of the Knight Army led by Francois was grinding the Alliance Army Cavalry of Kemler and Mathew Bade into scrap. The Duke of Winford was simply too valiant. The Unicorn Sword in his hand dealt multiplied damage to the Undead; every five seconds, the blinding light erupting from the Unicorn Sword would purge all nearby Undead in one go, followed by waves of cheers and shouts from the Knights.

In the Central Army, the Undead Army and the Peasant Infantry Corps were locked in a bloodbath. The Peasant Infantry Corps formed from the various Duchies were already starting to show signs that they could no longer hold on. However, under cover of artillery and large numbers of Archers, crossbowmen, and Dwarf Thunder Gunners, the Undead were paying an enormous price in casualties.

The Rangers loosed arrow after arrow without end. The arrows they shot became green meteors, precisely sniping the Desolate Tomb Guards who were in command. Even the Desolate Tomb Guards, protected by their heavy armor, could not withstand the arrow strikes; they fell one after another.

Worse still, even the Stone Tomb Binding Spirits that Kemler had been so proud to treat as his trump card could not resist the Rangers' enchanted arrows. As long as those Spirit Bodies were grazed by the shots from those green-hooded figures, the emerald energy from Aisloron would severely disrupt the Undead's stability in the Mortal World and inflict tremendous damage.

"Ura~ Ura~" The Bow Cavalry from Ugoer were darting all over the battlefield, running wild as they bent their bows and loosed arrows, loudly singing the names of the Ancestors.

On the right wing, the Dwarfs and the Undead Army were locked in a bitter struggle; in this white-hot war, it was temporarily impossible to tell who might win.

"If you don't have any more trump cards to play, Kemler, I suggest we withdraw." Mathew Bade watched the battlefield calmly. "There's no point in continuing like this. We shouldn't be wasting too much time in front of your fortress."

"What do you mean? You want to flee the field?!" One Spell from Kemler instantly blew more than a dozen charging Knights to pieces, blasting them into chunks. Immediately afterward, the Death Wind swept across the land, and hundreds of Peasant soldiers had their souls scattered.

It was useless. In a battle of this scale, Kemler's Undead Magic could not decide the course of the war. In fact, the Knight battalions led by Francois were gradually drawing closer to their command position.

"My Scouts tell me the Knightly Path army led by Lorne-Rio Cornwall is closing in on Musillon." Mathew Bade said to Kemler, "I brought every sword from Musillon to support you in this war, yet the situation is still not particularly favorable for us. I suggest we abandon the Black Stone Stronghold and fall back to defend Musillon."

"Abandon the Black Stone Stronghold?" Kemler's eyes bulged. He then spoke somewhat peremptorily, "No. We can retreat, but we absolutely cannot give up the Black Stone Stronghold! My suggestion is that we pull back for now and build a new line of defense in the mountains of the Gray Mountain Range!"

"Why? The Black Stone Stronghold is only your temporary lair. Musillon has centuries of Vampire accumulation; that is our true base in this kingdom!" Mathew Bade was utterly baffled by Kemler's decision. He pressed on, "You think the mountains are bad terrain for Knights? But their army includes Dwarfs!"

"So what? In any case, I absolutely will not give up the Black Stone Stronghold!" Kemler stubbornly rejected Mathew Bade's view. "Musillon can be abandoned, but the Black Stone Stronghold cannot!"

"Unbelievable!" Mathew Bade's face darkened like iron. He roared in frustration, "What secret are you hiding, my good Lord Kemler? What do you have stashed inside the Black Stone Stronghold that you don't want others to discover? Musillon has walls tens of meters high—can your Black Stone Stronghold really withstand the full-on assault of this army?"

What a joke. How could I possibly let you know that I've already made a pact with the Chaos Four Gods? Kemler stood firm. He must not retreat to Musillon; his secret must not be exposed.

This was also why, when he heard that the Alliance Army of Laine and Francois was attacking the Black Stone Stronghold, he had been so desperate to hurry back to defend it.

The Witch Demon King Akhan was the most loyal servant of Nagash, the Master of the Undead.

The banners of Francois and his Duke of Winford's Family arms—blue field, white horse, and golden chalice—were drawing closer and closer to the command platform. Kemler finally made up his mind. He gestured for Mathew Bade to get out of the way and began to chant Magic.

At that moment, something changed across the entire battlefield.

Storms congealed, the Wind of Chaos swept across the earth, dark clouds swallowed the sunlight, and all souls began to wail. Lightning exploded through the clouds.

Laine, who was locked in aerial combat with the Celestial Ghosts, suddenly halted his movements. He felt the Power of Chaos.

"How is that possible?" Laine muttered to himself, then immediately tugged on the reins, signaling Impres to descend.

The Grey Knight Primarch shook his head sharply. The scene before his eyes and the Wind of Chaos blowing from the Subspace told him the answer: the Power of Chaos had appeared within the ranks of the Undead?!

To use a phrase so many loved to throw around—this is not reasonable!

But Laine immediately shook his head and cast aside that so-called "unreasonable" notion.

This was Chaos! The most unfathomable, most unpredictable Chaos!

And you want to talk about reason with Chaos?!

"Hurry! Impres! Faster!"

A towering Undead Champion, nearly three meters tall, clad in blood-red Barosh's Cursed Armor and wielding a black, serrated giant axe, appeared at the head of a squad of fallen Chaos Chosen Warriors. The air reeked of blood and soil. Soul Fire burned in its empty eye sockets as it came before Kemler. "Master, what are your orders?"

"Wipe them out! Wipe everything out!"

"As you wish, my master."