"Gnolls? How'd they find us?" Lucio froze, staring up Thorn Ridge. Dozens of tiny black dots raced downhill.
He activated douqi vision. Gnolls—hundreds of them. But something was off. No roars? Just heavy footfalls? Worse, wild boars, wolves, and bears charged alongside them.
"Form ranks! Archers ready!" Lucio roared. The garrison braced: shields forward, spears extended, arrows nocked.
Sean squinted. Over 300 creatures. No vocalizations. He noticed Matthew tense.
"These aren't ordinary gnolls," they said in unison.
Lucio paled. "No pain? How?"
Sean nodded at Matthew. "Explain."
"Half-undead," Matthew said grimly. "Necromancers infect them with undeath. Still animate, but mindless—perfect cannon fodder."
Lucio swallowed. "A necromancer this powerful—should we retreat?"
Matthew scoffed. "They're just seed-infected. A Silver Rank necromancer at most. I'll handle it." He winked at Sean. "Extra gold, Your Highness?"
"Done." Sean suppressed relief. Glad he's here.
…
As gnolls closed, Matthew shouted: "Aim for the head! Destroy their soulfire!"
Soldiers stabbed upward. Gnolls ignored shields, clawing wildly. Spears pierced skulls, snuffing blue soulfire. But undead boars and bears battered the line, spreading necrosis.
"Necrotic plague!" the 随军 priest cried. "Avoid wounds—they fester!"
Lucio drew his sword. "John, with me! Windsor, guard—Wait, where's Sean?!"