Kaelen's boots thudded heavily on the ancient stone steps as he and Thane raced upward, with the echoing clatter of skeletal feet and armor growing louder below them. They weren't gaining ground fast enough, and more of the undead seemed to crawl out of every crack in the spire as if the place itself were regurgitating the damned souls trapped within.
"How many of these things are there?!"
Thane shouted, his voice was hoarse from the exertion as he darted a glance over his shoulder.
"Does it matter?"
Kaelen grunted, his breathing was labored, but he kept his focus ahead.
"Just keep moving!"
They bounded up the next flight of stairs, and Kaelen's hand gripped the hilt of his sword tighter. His flames were itched to be released, to burn these creatures to ash, but he couldn't risk it. The spire was old, and one wrong move with his flames would bring the entire place down on their heads. He'd have to rely on his sword for now.
