Prayer Before the Storm
Lane saw the incoming Dullahans and prayed in her heart. 'I will never pray to any God or Goddess since you told me never to do that... Instead I will pray to you my Love Victor, so please grant me strength.'
The cold wind swept across the battlefield.
The smell of blood, mud, and decaying flesh mixed together beneath the darkened sky. Countless undead stretched across the horizon like an endless black tide. The ground trembled beneath the charge of skeletal warhorses.
The Dullahans were coming.
Each rider wore ancient rusted armor stained by centuries of death. Some carried broken lances while others wielded cursed swords covered in dark mana. Their severed heads hung from their saddles, their empty eye sockets glowing with eerie green flames.
Lane slowly exhaled.
Her black hair danced behind her.
A faint smile appeared on her usually indifferent face.
"Victor..."
The whisper escaped her lips.
No one heard it.
