On the battlefield of Hades, undead creatures gather like a natural disaster from all directions, their eyes flickering with light points forming a continuous expanse. From a high vantage point, the long river of fireflies stirs the waves of the Foggy Sea ceaselessly, injecting a touch of murderous intent into the cold quietude. Sukra stood among a line of Death Banshees, measuring two meters tall, the shortest of the group, standing like a lackey. Thirty or forty Death Banshees all wore the same tattered gray robes, with long legs towering at least two and a half meters. Sukra blended in among them, looking like she was malnourished. Being malnourished was one thing, but her skills seemed malnourished too. The summons of the other Death Banshees were imposing in appearance and numerous in count. Any Skeletal Behemoth summoned could call thousands of Skeleton Soldiers. The army advanced boldly with resounding pride. Sukra’s summon was merely Wayne disguised as a Skeleton Soldier, skinny and small, wielding a shabby double-edged sword, looking as malnourished as its owner. Though this Skeleton Soldier only appeared skinny, in truth, it was more than well-nourished, but... Come on, you really look weak! Sukra was full of complaints, sensing the Death Banshees’ gaze of three parts sympathy, three parts disdain, and four parts incredulity, feeling extremely dissatisfied. Get full chapters from Nove1Fire.net Wayne could have transformed into something stronger and more domineering and could have adjusted her height to the average. But by pretending to be malnourished, now any banshee could boast about having a bigger chest and longer legs. Ugh, she meant, any banshee could disdain her at a glance. Sukra angrily glared at Wayne’s position, the latter planting the battered Tetanus Greatsword into the ground, engrossed in examining his Bull Horn Helmet, his eye sockets flickering with white light, seemingly deep in thought. Who knows what occurred to him, as the foolish Skeleton Soldier sat down the helmet, drew out the greatsword and began to bang it together. He seemed very dissatisfied with the two horns on the helmet. You fool, stop tinkering with that stupid bull helmet, it’s infuriating to watch. Wayne loves whatever role he plays, Sukra doesn’t. Holding the clown script, she can’t find love in this act at all. As if sitting on needles, restless, feeling uncomfortable all over. Death Banshees are , as long as summoned undead creatures are wholly dedicated to the battlefield and obey commands, fulfilling the mission of cannon fodder is sufficient. The Death Banshee controlling the summon has many things to consider. For instance height, measurements, wand length. The undead army completed its assembly like a tide, and a Death Banshee three meters tall waved her gray wings descending from the sky, landing and folding the wings into her gray robe, her eyes flickering with blue light looking at her counterparts. This team’s Death Banshee leader, also the commander of this battle, she issued a conscription order gathering all nearby counterparts. "Dear comrades, you are the elite among Banshees, each commanding thousands of troops..." Omilos scanned her counterparts, finding the malnourished Sukra, hesitated slightly before continuing: "The great Goddess of Death has fallen into a divine slumber, chaos from rebel forces everywhere, our master Proxy Winter’s Wing is distressed, guarding beside the Goddess, unable to pacify the rebellion personally..." "Now is the time for us to fight for our faith, pick up your weapons..." "Ladies, Hades faces an unprecedented enormous crisis. Though vast, with the Goddess behind us, we have no retreat!" Omilos was conducting the final war preparations, unable to bear it anymore, she furiously glared at Sukra: "Can you make your Skeleton Soldier stop? If he doesn’t like his helmet, he can simply swap for a new one." Sukra’s mouth twitching, said weakly: "Commander, he is actually very strong, just doesn’t look very bright." "As the saying goes, like master, like summon; I didn’t believe it before, now I acknowledge my mistake." Omilos sighed deeply, picked up her Scepter, pointed it remotely at Sukra: "I’ll assign a batch of summons to you, one Bone Dragon has fast movement speed, very practical, watch yourself on the battlefield." Omilos was glad Sukra joined, but didn’t like Sukra’s malnourished strength. Considering the junior’s devout faith, she decided to lend a hand, lest Sukra muddle-headedly perished on the battlefield. Death Banshees are Netherworld creatures, corpses corrupted by Hades’ inherent laws, manifesting after transformation, without breathing, without heartbeat, cold as ice all over. The birth and death of most lives in Hades occur similarly to the Death Banshee, they revere their creator, the Goddess of Death, as the sole truth of the world, living for her, and willing to die for her. The number of undead lives in Hades is immense, with numerous races, apart from a few lucky, the majority have never seen the Goddess. Their souls long for close contact with the Goddess, preferably following her closely. Unable to pursue the Goddess, they flock under the banners of the Goddess’s Proxy, namely the three Subsidiary Gods. Observer: Doom Spider Grew Judge: Spirit-eating Crow Saine Executioner: Winter’s Wing Xizor Omilos follows Winter’s Wing Xizor, Death Banshees are corpses, Xizor is a Corpse Dragon, both belong to the Order of the Undead, Zombie Sect, in essence, kin. Leadership is leadership, faith is faith.