"RUN!"
They ran.
The woodland archers broke formation and fled into the trees with the desperate, graceless speed of prey. Quivers spilled. One woman caught her foot on a root and went down hard and the two beside her hauled her up without slowing.
Quinlan watched them go.
They'd reach the nearest outpost within minutes. The report would reach the capital within the hour.
He could have killed them in the time it took to think about it.
But dead archers delivered no reports.
Terrified archers delivered masterpieces of psychological warfare.
…
[Necromantic Tier Ascension — Tier III]
[Requirement for Rank Up: Possess 1,000 Elite Souls of Rank 5.]
[Progress: 778 / 1,000]
Seventeen thousand dwarves, and only thirty-six qualified as Elite Souls. Officers, veterans, the handful of defenders whose levels and stats had been high enough in life to matter in death. The rest were Lesser Souls, raw material too weak to register as anything more than fuel.
That was fine.
