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The river of darkness flowed relentlessly. At its largest tributary was an undead army composed of countless deaths. Zombies, ghouls, and the shambling corpses of beasts moved with decayed steps, accompanied by faint groans. Their numbers easily approached the hundreds.
"Uuurgh…"
"Grrrr…"
Alongside them were humans under mind control. At the forefront were the residents of the castle village and captured outsiders, each holding spears or swords as they trudged forward with blank expressions. Behind them marched the lay followers of the black god, strengthened through the necromantic spell, Apostles of the Black God. Their minds were clouded with drugs, and they muttered the name of their god incessantly.
"Tesranach…."
"Grant us all a new world…."
Overseeing them all were twelve necromancers. Each was cloaked in dense malice and death energy and drawing power from the blessing of the night. The necromancers grinned in satisfaction, feeling the ominous power of darkness swirling around their bodies.
"Truly, the cardinal's power is overwhelming."
"I feel far stronger than usual."
Even the knights of the county radiated faint auras. They had been bestowed with dark aura through the dark arts, enabled by the immense necromantic power flowing from the dark altars scattered throughout the manor. Confidence surged through them. They were absolutely...
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