Raylo's gaze pierced through the thin clouds and mist.
He saw more than just one force of Demons.
From a stretch of hills to the west, a mixed force of Lizardfolk and assorted swamp races, about five or six hundred strong, advanced along a dry riverbed with chaotic banners and a loose formation.
Further south, countless dark figures churned the murky river ponds. It was the main force of the Frogman Tribe, kicking up so much mud that the entire river was dyed a murky yellow.
In the eastern forest, shadows flickered among the trees, revealing the vague silhouettes of massive Swamp Giants moving through the woods.
The target of these Demon forces was the very same high ground where the Black Stone Army had previously stopped to rest.
They came from all directions like sharks that had smelled blood, attempting to encircle and tear the human army that dared venture deep into the swamp to pieces.
