The first warrior lunged, blade flashing under the blood-red sky.
Liora moved.
She twisted, barely dodging the strike as another came from behind. Her instincts screamed—too slow. She raised her staff just in time, deflecting the spear aimed at her ribs, but the force sent her skidding backward.
The army swarmed.
Hundreds of undead warriors, moving in perfect unison, their eyes gleaming with something beyond undeath. These weren't mere puppets bound to the will of a necromancer. They were something more—something Velkar had shaped, sharpened.
Liora gritted her teeth. Fine.
If they wouldn't submit, she'd make them.
She raised a hand, power surging through her veins. Shadows coiled, tendrils of death magic spiraling outward, wrapping around the nearest warrior. She pulled—but the connection was weak, flickering like a dying ember.
A sword came for her head.
Liora ducked, rolling away as the blade sliced through the air. Another warrior closed in, a spear thrusting forward—she twisted, barely evading the strike before raising a hand and releasing a wave of necrotic energy.
The blast hit—but the warrior did not fall.
Liora's breath caught.
Normally, a direct hit like that would have crippled an undead. But these warriors… they didn't move like simple reanimated corpses. They didn't crumble. They didn't even stagger.
Velkar's voice echoed across the battlefield. "You are still thinking like a child."
Liora snarled, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Then stop talking and tell me what I'm missing!"
Velkar laughed, the sound cold and empty. "The dead do not kneel. They take. They devour. And yet you, little necromancer, still cling to the idea that they are yours to command."
The warriors charged again.
Liora had no time to argue.
She shifted, letting instinct take over. No hesitation. No overthinking. Her body moved, weaving between the strikes. A spear came for her chest—she grabbed it mid-thrust, twisting her opponent's wrist and snapping it clean off. The undead did not scream.
They did not falter.
A blade cut toward her ribs—she threw herself backward, landing in a crouch before exploding forward, slamming her palm against the attacker's chest. Dark energy burst outward, sending them flying into the ranks behind.
One dropped.
Then another.
But the army didn't stop.
She was outnumbered. Badly.
If she fought like this—if she kept resisting, kept trying to control them—she would lose.
Then it hit her.
Control wasn't the answer.
Understanding was.
Liora took a breath, steadying herself. The next warrior lunged. Instead of fighting, instead of dodging, she stood her ground.
The blade came down—and she let it hit.
The impact shook her bones, but she didn't fall.
Instead, she let her power flow outward, sinking deep into the warrior's very being. Not to dominate. Not to bend them to her will.
But to become one with them.
The warrior's eyes flickered—just for a moment. A single, hesitant moment.
It was enough.
Liora pushed deeper, her magic weaving through the gaps in their existence, not as a master, but as an equal. She wasn't here to force them into servitude. She was here to join them in the abyss.
A shift rippled through the battlefield.
The army hesitated.
Velkar's smirk faded. "Ah… so you finally see."
Liora didn't answer. She felt it.
The undead warrior before her—he was still resisting, but the energy between them was different now. Not a battle of wills, but a bridge of understanding.
They were not hers to command.
But they could be hers to fight alongside.
The warrior's blade wavered. His stance faltered.
And then—
He knelt.
Velkar's eyes darkened.
Liora exhaled, power pulsing through her veins. The warrior before her was no longer an enemy. No longer a puppet.
He was hers.
No—he was with her.
The other undead shifted, sensing the change. Liora extended a hand. No force, no chains, no domination. Only a single, unspoken command.
Rise.
One by one, the warriors turned.
Not against her.
For her.
Velkar's smirk returned, slow and knowing. "So… you have finally learned."
The battlefield stilled, the tension between them thick as smoke. The once-hostile army now stood behind Liora, awaiting her command.
But this time, they weren't bound by chains.
They were bound by will.
Liora lifted her gaze, meeting Velkar's own. "The dead do not kneel. But they will walk with me."
Velkar let out a low chuckle. "Then perhaps, little necromancer… you are finally worthy of what comes next."
The red sky shattered, the battlefield breaking apart like glass.
And then—
Darkness.