Beside the Pinarus River, the autumn wind was bleak.
A group of Persian deserters, faces filled with panic, were driven into the cold, rushing waters by the black-clad, black-armored Undead Army.
Driven by the instinct to survive, the soldiers attempted to flee, struggle, and resist.
The sturdy old Persian general looked at the faces twisted by fear and coldly ordered:
"True God Ahura above, your cowardice shames the Empire; only through death can this disgrace be cleansed!"
As the aged arm swung down, the black-clad Undead Army standing by the riverside like statues drew the crescent blades from their waists.
"Swish swish swish swish!"
Cold arcs slashed down, and amidst the violently tearing air, came the ghostly wailing and howling.
As the chill passed by, blood splattered, dozens of deserters who tried to resist and escape were cleaved apart by the sharp force, becoming broken corpses that fell into the cold, rushing waters.
