The creature’s glowing eyes focused. Its corpse-white skin flushed with sickly energy. Its muscles tensed with supernatural power.

It looked at the nearest guard—

The guard raised a blessed sword defensively, holy symbol on his armor glowing.

The Fallen Hero recognized the holy symbol. Some fragment of its degraded mind associated holy symbols with "do not attack."

It turned away from the guard, its glowing eyes scanning for other targets.

"POINT IT TOWARD THE DEMON LORD PRESENCE!" the guard commander ordered.

The guard used a long pole to physically turn the Fallen Hero’s body toward the distant field where purple-black corruption energy was manifesting.

The creature felt the demonic presence. Its failed hero instincts recognized supernatural threat.

It charged.

Moving with speed beyond normal humans, the Fallen Hero sprinted toward the distant demonic aura, driven by base instinct to destroy supernatural enemies.

"Release the next one!"

The process repeated. Twenty times.

Twenty Fallen Heroes, freed from blessed chains, pointed toward Seraphina’s manifestation, released to attack the demon lord with mindless aggression.

They ran across the battlefield like pale corpses animated by artificial hero power, their glowing eyes fixed on the distant demonic presence, their degraded minds knowing only one imperative: KILL SUPERNATURAL THREAT.

"And the remaining thirty?" a guard asked.

"Send them to Third Line. Ten to eastern sector. Ten to central gates. Ten to western wall. Release them directly into settlement defender positions. Let them break the resistance."

The thirty remaining Fallen Heroes were pointed toward Third Line’s contested areas and released.

They charged toward the settlement with mindless ferocity.

—---------------

Elric watched the fifty Fallen Heroes disperse—twenty running toward where Seraphina would engage the true heroes, thirty charging toward Third Line’s settlement defenders.

"Sir," a lieutenant said quietly, "if the Church Council learns you deployed Fallen Heroes again—"

"Then I’ll face court-martial again," Elric interrupted. "But I’ll face it as the commander who ended this siege with minimal true hero casualties and prevented a demon lord from slaughtering Church forces. The Council might censure me. They won’t execute me for achieving victory."

"And the collateral damage?"

"Will be calculated as acceptable losses for strategic victory." Elric’s voice was cold tactical reasoning. "War requires terrible choices. I choose to sacrifice failed experiments and some regular soldiers rather than lose divinely summoned heroes and allow this siege to continue another day."

He turned away from the cages, returning to his command position overlooking Third Line.

"Monitor the battlefield. Report when Fallen Heroes engage the demon lord. Report when they break through settlement defensive lines. And pray to the Light that this gamble works."

In the darkening evening sky, fifty abominations created from humanity’s desperate attempt to manufacture heroes charged toward combat—twenty to support true heroes against demon lord fury, thirty to shatter settlement defenders’ last organized resistance.

The worst was about to begin.

—------------------------

Third Line - Settlement Defenders’ Perspective

The settlement defenders fighting at Third Line’s contested positions didn’t know what was coming.

They were exhausted, wounded, fighting through pain and fatigue to hold ground against overwhelming numbers.

A goblin warrior named Kress was defending eastern sector rubble when he saw movement in the darkening evening light.

Strange figures approaching at inhuman speed. Thirty of them. Moving in scattered formation but all converging on Third Line.

"More human soldiers incoming!" he shouted warning.

But as the figures got closer, Kress realized these weren’t normal soldiers.

Their skin was corpse-white. Their eyes glowed with sickly yellow-white light. They moved with supernatural speed that exceeded even demon warriors’ capabilities.

"What are those things?!" another defender screamed.

The first Fallen Hero reached the eastern sector defensive line.

A veteran orc warrior named Thrak’gor stepped forward to engage, his war axe raised.

The Fallen Hero didn’t slow, didn’t dodge, didn’t show any tactical awareness.

It simply charged straight at Thrak’gor with mindless aggression.

Thrak’gor swung his war axe, a blow that would have decapitated a normal human.

The axe struck the Fallen Hero’s shoulder, cutting deep into corpse-white flesh.

The creature didn’t scream. Didn’t react to pain. Just grabbed Thrak’gor with one hand and crushed the orc’s throat with supernatural strength.

Thrak’gor died in three seconds, throat crushed, his body thrown aside like garbage.

The Fallen Hero continued charging into the defensive line, its glowing eyes selecting new target.

A serpentfolk warrior tried to spear it. The spear pierced the creature’s chest, a mortal wound for any living being.

The Fallen Hero didn’t fall. It grabbed the spear shaft, pulled the serpentfolk close, and snapped the warrior’s neck with one twist.

"THEY DON’T DIE!" a goblin screamed in terror. "THEY DON’T FEEL PAIN!"

Ten Fallen Heroes were attacking the eastern sector now, each one killing defenders with mechanical efficiency, sustaining wounds that would kill normal soldiers but continuing to fight.

At the central gates, another ten Fallen Heroes crashed into the settlement’s defensive positions.

Human soldiers and settlement defenders were mixed together in close combat here—the Fallen Heroes attacked both indiscriminately.

A human sergeant took a Fallen Hero’s fist through his chest, the creature punching through armor and ribs to crush his heart.

A goblin defender was grabbed by the throat and literally torn in half by supernatural strength.

A human archer tried to run from a Fallen Hero and was caught, his spine broken, his body discarded.

The western wall received the final ten Fallen Heroes.

These crashed into the serpentfolk and goblin rear-guard positions with devastating effect.

A serpentfolk chief named Vess’thara tried to organize defense. "COORDINATED STRIKES! TARGET THEIR HEADS! DESTROY THE BRAIN!"

But even destroying their brains didn’t stop the Fallen Heroes immediately. They fought for several seconds even with catastrophic head trauma, driven by failed hero cells that didn’t require brain function for basic motor control.

—---------------------

Settlement Command Post

Lyra felt the battle shift through the telepathic network—dozens of voices screaming about unkillable white-skinned creatures attacking both sides indiscriminately.

"What are those things?!" she broadcast urgently to all defenders.

Scattered responses came through the network:

"They don’t feel pain!" "They don’t stop when wounded!" "They’re killing our soldiers AND human soldiers!" "They move faster than demons!" "THEY DON’T DIE!"