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His voice resonated through the corridor.
"Rise. O wretched souls of the underworld..."
Dozens of summoning circles flared to life on the floor.
"...Reveal your monstrous fangs, drawn by the darkness!"
With a metallic clatter, black shadows began to take form. What emerged in droves were skeletal soldiers clutching swords and shields and half-decayed ghouls. They were signature summons of necromancy. The restless dead, robbed of their peace, groaned in agony.
Uuuuuuuh…
Aaaaaaaah…
Alius shouted in fury, his voice reverberating through the hall.
"Accursed necromancer! How dare you desecrate the eternal rest of the dead so vilely!"
Meanwhile, Karnak had a different reaction.
What a diligent and hardworking fellow, he thought to himself.
To the untrained, necromancy might seem like a simple matter of snapping one's fingers to summon undead minions. In reality, preparation was key. What one did not sow they could not reap.
Cleo had summoned twenty skeletons and ten ghouls. In other words, he had to have desecrated at least thirty graves to gather the necessary materials.
[Looks like he’s been diligently stocking up, like a squirrel hoarding acorn,] Karnak mused.
Varos, however, had his own opinion. [Diligent? Yeah, right. You think he did the grave robbing himself? He probably made his subordinates do it.]
[Don’t be so quick to judge. He could’ve done it personally.]
[Oh, come on. I happen to know a certain necromancer who wouldn’t move a finger...
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