They came in silence, not one voice among the horde.
Only the steady thunder of their footstomps, the grind of bone against rusted armor, the unnatural rhythm of claws raking through dirt and ash, filling the air.
But not all among them were ordinary undead.
At the heart of his army marched thirty resurrected S-Rank beasts, monsters that had once taken entire battalions to bring down.
Now, they moved in perfect formation, eyes burning with pale violet light. Their roars had died with their bodies, but their hatred lived on, reborn in service of a darker master.
They were no longer just corpses. They were relics of slaughter perfected by death.
Damien had long upgraded his Lesser Revive into a true Undead Resurrection, able to return elite creatures at 80% of their original strength, with intelligence and instinct mostly restored.
And among the thirty, three reigned supreme.
Frostmourne, the Demon Ice Wolf.
