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“This way.”
Al Razzaz led Leon toward the outskirts of Amarh, to a place where few ever walked. Warriors lined the path so tightly that not even a rat could have slipped through. As the sounds of laughter and conversation faded, a heavy silence settled in.
At last, after some distance, the two arrived with only a handful of escorts at the place where the “monster” was being held.
Ominous. That was Leon’s first impression as he stepped inside.
“Grrrrrr…”
A beastlike growl, filled with hunger and hatred, came from the shaded corner. No reason, no intellect—only malice. And even if reason had remained, it would have meant little. The power of an undead ran on two things: the commands of its master and a blind, absolute hatred for the living.
“What is this…”
Leon caught his breath as he saw it clearly for the first time. It was a monster he had never seen before.
Its body was bound head to toe in bandages, rotted together with pus. The patches of flesh that showed were shriveled and twisted like a corpse desiccated in the desert sun.
Yet its eyes...
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