"What the hell is happening?"
"Is this because of the spell?"
"I knew nothing good was going to come from those magical scripts we found on that wall! Now we've gone and gotten ourselves hopelessly in trouble!"
"Why is he still chanting?"
The soldiers began bickering in panicked voices as they stared down the undead horde advancing before them. The glowing red eyes of those ghastly abnormalities seared undeniable, unfaltering, deep, true terror into their hearts.
King Julian stood behind his men, worry etched deep in his features. His gaze fixed on the wizard, who remained rooted in place, voice raised unwaveringly as he recited the magical scripts from his scroll.
The king's mind churned in confusion—could all of this be the result of the spell the wizard was chanting, or were these undead abnormalities manifesting specifically to prevent him from uncovering the chant's hidden truth?
THUD! THUD!
