Looking across the approaching mass of corpses, Milo scanned for any sign of Griar, or for any lieutenants, he had personally encountered a few of them already, and observation of the dark keep had allowed a few more of them to be recognisable to anyone, some of those listed might not actually be lieutenants, but that wasn't too important, since he didn't see any at all.
As far as anyone was aware, the undeads marching in their direction did not have any of the high-ranking leaders amongst them… That, or they were hiding amidst the soldiers.
"Do not get close unless necessary, they probably all carry diseases" he said to Helena, who was already readying a plethora of spells in advance.
"I am a mage, of course I won't get close to the enemy"
"I don't know, you have a tendency to beat things with your fists…"
"It's faster than casting another spell, but there are already plenty enough of close-quarters fighters anyways, instead, you should be careful, you are on their chopping list specifically, it isn't impossible that a lieutenant or worse could pop out of nowhere to try and kill you" Helena gave him a kiss on the cheek "You better come back home with me in one piece"
"Of course, by the way- Before we go fight the undeads who ruined our world, who did you get to babysit the kids? Minli should be around here to treat the wounded"
"You would know if you didn't rush here the moment you were called, but it's Dasato, she should manage to keep them occupied by making pretty crystal jewels for them" Helena put her hands on her hips, looking around as everyone else was getting ready to intercept the corpses.
"Dasato? I would have thought that she would be fighting with the other elemental champions"
"You are quite clueless, huh? She's pregnant, of course she won't be fighting"
Milo blinked, and he turned directly to his right, meeting the gaze of Forven, the champion of wind.
'Nice man, I knew you could do it!'
They exchanged silent words through the ethereal connection they shared as men whilst Helena just raised an eyebrow.
The order to charge and step out of the barrier was given as the undeads got close, they waited for a while as they wouldn't want to be caught in the open and turn into targets for whatever death ray the other side had waiting to be used, by waiting, they could have the undeads as a shield.
Those who fought in close-quarters charged out, so a majority of beast worshippers and non-emerald folks, whilst those who could strike from afar were told to not leave the safety of the barrier, which made sense, it completely denied the undeads the opportunity to take the mages and archers out, so they would have no choice but to endure the attacks without any way to stop them.
Merno, Alosfit, Eppie worked together to cast a dense fireball, throwing it into a wide arc over the undeads, seemingly aiming for it to detonate in the middle of their ranks, but even before it could get through the barrier, undead mages were already reaching out with their mana to dismantle the spell, many of those corpse casters were wearing masks, and were dressed in black robes, signs that they were sorcerers instead of traditional mages, and upon their masks, were symbols representing and enhancing the particular element they had chosen to specialise in, and the first to reach out were those who had chosen elements that had to do with flames.
For them, taking apart a fire spell was a most simple task, they had been specifically train to be able to do so efficiently, be it alone, or with assistance, with so many of them, the fireball would fall apart in mere seconds, but it did not, because this wasn't the ideal scenario, and the three livings who casted the spell did not just stop focusing on the mana, they were still holding onto it firmly, and shooing away any attempts from the outside to interfere, it wasn't completely successful, but the spell was progressing forward nonetheless.
So other undead mages shifted focus, instead of trying to dismantle it, they launched their mana forward, pushing back against the spell and stopping it from getting any closer.
The three livings struggled against the sheer amount of mages they had to compete against, not to mention that the undeads weren't rookies either.
The sphere of flames hung above the ranks of the undead, moving slightly back and forth, until another spell reached it, a swift spear of wind that pierced right to its center, before detonating into a powerful gust, causing the ball of fire to explode with greater power than intended, raining hell upon the cadavers, who did not seem too bothered by it, if at all, they just kept on moving.
Not for long however, as the livings on the ground reached them, as a flash of gold, Milo was the first to arrive, kicking a Loimoisian knight right in the chest, caving their armour in and launching them backward, crashing into more undeads behind.
Moments prior those behind him reached the frontline, but by then, Milo was already being targeted, evading an axe aimed at his jaw, striking a mace that attempted to land right onto his spine, elbowing it with a burst of gold before kicking a rank and file soldier's head into particles, the blow itself was not enough to put the footsoldier down, but the gold invading his body did the trick, the undead collapsing back into a pile of dust bones as his equipment faded away.
He did not dare push too deep into their formation, but that did not prevent an elite from finding their way to him, as a knight garbed in a surcoat tainted by a dark substance basically leapt above their comrades to reach him, Milo back away, only to feel a blade trying, but failing, to pierce his back, somehow, in just those few seconds, some undeads had already bypassed him and had ended behind his back.
Grabbing and crushing the soldier's head right through their veil of chainmail, he was forced to raise up his guard and block the tar-like substance thrown by the knight.
Their helm reassembled a person's face, with the holes for the eyes were crying that same black substance without stop, it was black blood, like acid, it ate right through the ground where it landed, Milo only escaping unscathed because he had already put up his defences with golden mana.
The undead said something in death tongue, surprisingly, the voice sounded rather feminine as she raised up her zweihander, forged from corrupted steel, it was already oozing with black blood.
And without hesitation, the corpse charged, accompanied by multiple others who homed in on Milo from every angle.