The General wore a grim expression. He clenched his fist, gnashing his teeth continuously. The muscles beneath his crimson scales bulged.
The veins on his arms pulsed violently.
His eyes remained fixed on the chaotic battlefield without blinking. He wanted to rush and join the battle and unleash his rage, but something was stopping him.
His instinct.
For countless years, that instinct had saved him from death numerous times.
It had never betrayed him.
Since the battle began, he never detected the Necromancer behind the undead.
That alone made him wary.
A Necromancer commanding such a massive undead army should have appeared somewhere on the battlefield.
Yet...
No matter how he searched.
No matter how he spread his senses.
He found nothing.
With so much chaos going on, how could the Necromancer behind it not appear?
This made him a lot more cautious.
He refused to believe the enemy was simply hiding.
