Commander Draven raged watching his comrades fall one after another. But, there was little he could do.
The ice that coated the ground was horrible for footing, and yet it seemed as though everyone in Dyon's army had defensive formations to use for traction.
Then Commander Draven thought he could use his overwhelming strength to raise the morale of his troops again, but, the white-haired demon generals simply toyed with him. He was nothing before them.
He could only run again and again, in the end using his men as shields in his last bid for survival.
After losing half his men, Commander Draven had had the thought of escape, maybe his pride just wasn't worth it… but then Dyon from his high perch said dreaded words that resounded in his psyche even as he stood bloodied with less than a thousand of his men left.
"Defense Variation 1. Turtle shell."