"This is pretty sick!" Thomas said, drifting slightly above the waterlogged battlefield, his ghostly form flickering with a dull gleam as if the air itself had grown weary of his presence.
"Yeah, I know." Ludwig's voice was low, distracted, eyes scanning their surroundings like a predator trying to count how many more wolves were in the woods. He turned his head, the faint glow of his eyes catching the light just enough to show the creases of mental wariness across his brow. "But are you sure you're looking for the fragment?"
"Already found it," Thomas replied, bobbing in place with the casual swagger only the dead could afford. "It's buried a few dozen meters under that massive pile of mud." He pointed with a spectral finger toward a mound that looked just like all the others. "The one you skewered? It's pinned under all that gunk. Can't move. Probably drowning in its own blood and regret."
