The creature before Kaizen was no longer a horde of undead, but a grotesque and terrifying amalgamation of bodies intertwined to form an abomination of rotting flesh and broken bones. The abomination had several heads, all screaming in eternal agony, with empty eyes pulsing with a dark light, as if hell itself had been summoned to this swamp.
The mist around them seemed alive, writhing in response to the presence of this unholy being. Kaizen felt the heavy dampness on his skin, while the foul stench of decay and death permeated the air, making it hard to breathe. He looked up to the sky, but all he saw was a gray void where the sun seemed to have been swallowed by the darkness brought by Yan.
Alaric, a few steps away, was slowly recovering from the impact, sweat dripping down his forehead as he tried to conjure another spell. He looked at Kaizen, his lips pressed into a thin line, aware that the situation was hopeless.
