Lucen looked at the incoming monsters and understood why it's called a monster wave. The earth trembled beneath countless claws and hooves, the frozen river groaning as though it too recoiled.
The air carried the stench of iron and rot, thick enough to burn the throat. Above the horde, wings beat the air, black shapes circling like carrion before the slaughter even began.
The tusked trolls lumbered forward, their boulder-sized fists pounding the ground, each roar shaking snow from the cliffs.
Blue wyverns circled above, their wings tearing through the blizzard, their shrieks sharp enough to split stone. He also saw a Dire Wendigos among the ranks of the monsters. These monsters were pretty high-level.
The monster wave had a few that he recognized from the game, but among them surged nightmares the game had never shown him.
Great wolves ran with their hides half-peeled back, ribs gleaming through patches of fur, their jaws too wide, lined with teeth that never ended.
