This is a common occurrence.
Patrol scouts out at night, unlucky enough to encounter the enemy, then they signal for help, and then they are killed. It's that simple.
Generally, that would be the end of it.
Just like now.
"Foolish humans."
The woman with horns on her head sat atop a mountain of flesh made up of corpses, looking disdainfully at the battlefield around her. At her side, a faint mist dissipated, and under the silvery moonlight, the entire battlefield seemed shrouded in a sea of clouds.
"So what if a signal was sent? It is nothing but waiting for death."
