The sun was dipping behind the mountains, turning the horizon a dull orange. The battlefield of the Kingdom of Merch was silent except for the groans of the wounded and the scraping of armor. Seven hills of corpses stretched across the plains. Limbs jutted at odd angles. Demon blood soaked the mud. The stench of death hung thick, mixed with the metallic tang of spilled mana.
Prince Eloween stood at the edge of the battlefield, her hands trembling. She had fought for her kingdom, yet the scale of destruction was incomprehensible. Knights of Merch, still alive but shaken, moved silently under the orders of Lord Scallab Caelrith.
"Collect them," Scallab's voice rang sharp across the field. "Every demon. Every body. Do not leave a single one behind."
The soldiers obeyed. They lifted the corpses in groups, dragging and piling them. Wolves circled, snarling over the hills of corpses, their eyes bright in the dying light. Arrielle and Maria, though injured, walked among them, overseeing the operation.
Daniel's vision extended through Vax. From Fort Knightfall, he watched as the soldiers worked. His mind traced the boundaries of the battlefield, calculating. The Red Flags battalion remained on alert, protecting the survivors as they labored. Every soldier understood the orders. Failure to follow them meant death; obedience meant survival.
By the time night fell, the hills of corpses towered. Seven distinct mounds marked the scale of the slaughter. Knights whispered to one another in disbelief.
"This… this is enough to feed the wolves for months," one young knight said, his voice cracking. He looked at the animals, now tearing into the corpses, sharp teeth ripping flesh with ease.
Arrielle knelt near a small hill, inspecting the corpses for lingering magic or hazards. She noted minor anomalies—demon remnants that could still release curses if left unchecked. Maria moved across another mound, cracking her whip in warning, keeping the wolves from damaging valuable magical residue.
Then, a deep hum cut through the night. The ground trembled slightly. Soldiers froze.
A warp portal opened, blue-black and swirling. A faint aura of Daniel's control radiated from it. From within the portal, the bodies of the demons began to shift. Slowly, deliberately, Daniel's warp dog guided the heaps toward the portal's center. One by one, limbs, torsos, and skulls slipped into the void.
The soldiers stepped back, uncertain. They whispered to one another.
"What… what is happening?"
"The General…" one muttered. "He's taking them… somewhere else."
Vax flew overhead, circling the portal, ensuring no corpses escaped the gravitational pull of the warp hole. Within moments, the seven hills vanished. The ground was bare, leaving only the muddy, blood-soaked earth behind.
The soldiers stared at the empty battlefield in awe and confusion.
"Back to camp," Scallab ordered. "Tonight, we survive. Tomorrow, we rebuild."
Eloween exhaled slowly, the tension leaving her shoulders. She had survived the slaughter, her kingdom had survived, and the Red Flags had saved them. Yet, she could still feel the echoes of battle—pain, fear, and exhaustion lingering like ghosts in the night air.
By nightfall, the camp was alive with activity—but it was a different energy now. Relief mixed with tension. Soldiers cleaned weapons, patched wounds, and recounted the battle. Some had broken limbs or burns. Others were exhausted, but all were alive.
Daniel arrived in the camp in his spiritual form, unseen by most, sending mental encouragements to the Red Flags battalion. The battalion leaders nodded to one another, signaling readiness to continue at a moment's notice.
Eloween finally reunited with her family. Tears streamed down her face as she embraced her mother, father, and younger siblings. "I… I thought I would never see you again," she whispered. Her voice trembled, but relief and joy shone in her eyes.
"You survived, thanks to your bravery—and the help of our allies," her father said, pulling her close. "You've made us proud."
The campfire burned high. Food was prepared, rations divided among soldiers, and even the wolves received portions of meat. The Red Flags were treated with respect. Arrielle and Maria, though battered and bruised, were honored for their deeds.
Daniel's influence ensured no one indulged in empty celebration. The mood was restrained. Soldiers drank, but their eyes never left the surrounding darkness. Shadows shifted as if waiting. Some whispered that the miasma might return. Others feared the demons' leaders might have survived.
Eloween sat quietly, her hand gripping a cup of wine. She watched the soldiers laugh, wolf pups scurry between boots, and the Red Flags share quiet conversation. It was the first time she felt something approaching peace.
Yet the battlefield had left its mark. Limbs were broken, and scars would remain. Warrior Pills had saved lives but left their users hollowed. Arrielle flexed her arms slowly, wincing at old fractures. Maria examined her wrist, noting small cracks that would take time to heal fully. Both women shared a quiet glance.
"They're gone… for now," Arrielle muttered.
Maria nodded, letting her whip rest across her lap. "But the next wave will be worse. We both know it."
Eloween felt the weight of Daniel's words. "Survive this. Survive the next. Protect the kingdom."
The night deepened. A quiet settled over the camp. Wolves circled the perimeter, ears twitching, noses raised. The remaining soldiers slept fitfully. Some of the Red Flags meditated. Energy still pulsed faintly in the air, a reminder that battle was never far away.
In a distant forest, Daniel's domain rippled subtly. Something moved inside the shadows. Even in victory, the war was not over.
But for now, the Kingdom of Merch could breathe. Seven hills of demons had been wiped from the plains, carried away through the warp portal. The wolves had eaten their fill. The soldiers rested. Eloween embraced her family, the Red Flags celebrated their survival, and Daniel's influence ensured the order of the night was maintained.
The fires burned low. Laughter and conversation drifted across the camp, a fragile peace forged from blood and terror. Yet in the distance, the horizon whispered of dangers still lurking, unseen and unresolved.
And as the stars reflected on the silent battlefield, everyone present knew one truth: the war was not finished.
The night ended in celebration, but the future was uncertain. Every soldier, every wolf, and every Red Flags member carried the memory of the carnage and the knowledge that the next battle could arrive without warning.