A lone figure hovered above the abandoned city of Maren.
Supreme Dunadan's expression was grim as he looked down at the wasteland below.
The city had become a graveyard.
Broken walls stretched for miles across the desert. Entire districts had been reduced to rubble. The battlefield where thousands had fought and died only hours earlier was now covered by an endless moving sea of infected.
Hundreds of thousands of them.
The horde flowed across the desert in a single living tide, spreading from horizon to horizon. Parasite hounds, corrupted Magus, and twisted abominations marched together beneath the violet haze, all moving in the same direction.
East.
Toward Dravos.
Dunadan clenched his jaw.
