The filthy black viscous substance flowed at his feet, and the clawed bones with rotting flesh stretched out from within. He bent down, grabbed the dirty arm, and yanked it upward!
"Gaheris, you look so miserable."
The undead covered in rotten flesh replied:
"Even you might not be able to stand firm before him. Lancelot is stronger than before. He hasn't neglected his training, and has even made subtle progress."
"Galahad, your plan may have to be shelved."
Galahad laughed lightly, disagreeing with Gaheris' opinion:
"You are a loser because you lost to him thousands of years ago. Even if the two of you join forces, it would still be the same. I, on the other hand, have gained the favor of the true God and am chosen."
Standing outside the black swamp, Gareth looked more alive than his brother, but his skin was slightly gray. If you looked closely, you could also detect his decay.
He said to Gaheris:
