Raven walked forward. All around him were corpses.
Broken armor. Frozen faces. The ground was dark and hard under his feet.
But he did not stop until he was only fifty meters away from the wall.
Most of his battalion had died to the green gas.
Raven was still alive, but he was not unharmed.
Even as a fifth-star warrior, the poison had eaten into him.
His skin looked sickly, tinted green. His lips were dry. His breathing was rough and uneven.
His eyes burned badly. Everything looked blurred, like the world was covered in a thin fog.
Still, he kept walking. His steps were slow. His body swayed left and right. More than once, it looked like he might fall.
But he didn't.
Up on the wall, the soldiers finally noticed him clearly.
At first, there was silence.
Then confusion.
Then laughter.
"Hey! Look at that!" one soldier shouted, pointing down. "There's one survivor!"
Another leaned over the wall and laughed.
