The undead scratched the question in the crystallized ground using his fingernail.
"..."
Olive was staring at the words in disbelief.
It was his own fault...
That monstrosity of an undead came here after someone spotted the illusion he had created to test the young elf...
It was all his fault...
[Now, I will take you to my master.]
Another sentence got scratched into the crystallized earth.
[You don't have to help us, but just so you know, if you refuse, I will go straight to that crowd of panicking life essence scrambling about fifteen miles away and subdue every single one of them for my master to question.]
"I... I'll help..."
That threat seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back.
Olive nodded in defeat.
"Take me to your master."
He asked in a shaking voice.
"Graough...!"
