The march had been uneventful thus far. The rhythmic clanking of armor and weapons filled the air, a grim symphony of dread as Lucius's undying army marched onward.
Their soulless eyes gleamed with faint, eerie light under the moonlit sky.
Lucius hovered above them, his black cloak flowing like an extension of the darkness itself, his gaze locked on the horizon.
Below, Lili led the vanguard, her staff aglow with dark energy, her movements precise and commanding. Legion marched with an unsettling silence, a towering mass of death incarnate, their presence alone radiating terror.
Luca and Grimm flanked the army, their senses sharp for any potential threats.
Everything seemed calm until a strange gust of wind rustled through the dead forest.
Lucius narrowed his eyes.
"The air... it reeks of sanctity."
Lili looked up, concerned. "My Lord, do you sense something?"
