Thousands of undead surged across the ground toward the northern walls of Amberfall.
They moved without order, but not without purpose. Temporarily lording over them, Osbert had given them only one objective: scale the wall and destroy everything beyond.
Some ran with incredible speed, others dragged them forward, broken limbs snapping and reforming as they advanced. Armor clattered, bones scraped, and empty jaws hung open as they closed the distance.
The towering walls loomed ahead, but they did not slow.
Marlow, who had already taken up his position on the battlement, had a grim look on his face as he watched the undead army approach. The undead horde consisted of around five thousand monsters, yet their advance looked far more daunting and intimidating than the naval fleet from earlier.
