An hour later...
The growls of the undead had died away, and the shouting of the slaughter was finally hushed. Silence had once again shrouded the blood-stained cave. The battlefield lay quiet, for it was now a graveyard of the unburied. The undead had once again turned into corpses.
Among the victors, a single man stood out, covered in the blood of his enemies with a greatsword tightly gripped in his hands. He looked around to see in anyone else had unfortunately survived. But in the field of the dead, there was no one who could stare back at Ashton.
"That was a close one..." Ashton panted.
[Hm... they were weaker than I expected them to be.]
Ashton sighed in annoyance. Weaker than expected? Was Astaroth sleeping throughout the fight or something? The only thing Ashton could think of that made them 'weaker' would be that these undead did not explode like the ones on the outside.
