The black mist, like a sigh exhaled by the grim reaper from the depths of hell, slowly wafted over, silently licking the entire valley.
It flowed without wind, shapeless yet heavy, as though a massive black womb was slowly engulfing the battlefield into its body.
The knights of the Dragon Blood Legion stood arrayed, with Fighting Energy flowing slowly through their armor, their heavy boots long sunk into the land interwoven with mud and blood.
Even seasoned knights, veterans of countless battles, could feel an unnatural chill belonging not to this world.
No, it was the fear of being watched by some presence.
The shudder that seemed to arch from the base of their spine into their brains, their rational instincts screaming: Do not approach.
"What is... this smell?" one knight whispered, his voice dry as sand.
It was not the rot of flesh, nor the usual battlefield smoke and scorched air.
It was an aura of death.
