The Greek ghost army surged forward like a tide of living history. Leonard had called them from the echoes of ancient kings—Agamemnon's disciplined phalanxes, Leonidas's unbreakable Spartans, Alexander's unstoppable cavalry, and so on.Their war cries rose in a thunderous wave that shook the ground. They crashed into the undead horde with the force of a storm breaking against a land shore.Swords ripped through decayed flesh, spears pierced rotting chests, and chariots crushed bones under their wheels in sprays of black blood. The undead fought back with mindless ferocity, their numbers endless, their bodies refusing to stay down even when limbs were severed or heads were crushed.Casualties mounted on both sides in a brutal, grinding slaughter that turned the fields into a centrifuge of blood and shattered bone. The battle was grand and terrible, a clash of living legend against the endless dead. The sheer scale of it made the horizon seem to burn.In the end, the undead army was pul