As the commander of the Hayes forces issued the order, several army heads exchanged uneasy glances.
The command seemed reckless, an advance that would bleed them dry. Yet hesitation had no place in their ranks. They would obey, for the Hayes orders were absolute.
So the Hayes armies surged.
"Forward, into the black lands!"
Across dozens of fronts, officers led their soldiers in relentless assaults. Engines roared as whole battalions hurled themselves toward the demon strongholds.
For a time, the battlefield tipped violently in Hayes' favor. Their heavy artillery and mechanized war engines blasted apart nest after nest. Under coordinated strikes, towering demons fell in clouds of ash, their corrupted ichor searing into the soil. Hayes soldiers cheered as they claimed each stretch of blackened ground.
But beneath the roar of victory ran another quiet sound: despair.
