Under Fang Zhou's command, forty skeletons converged noiselessly from all directions like shadows of death and tightly surrounded the kobold camp.
The light of the Magic Energy Moss fell on the barren land, casting a silver sheen over the skeletons' ghastly bones.
Their hollow eye sockets burned with ghostly blue Soul Fire, but every step, every movement, was as precise as a finely tuned killing machine.
A blazing bonfire burned at the center of the camp, where the kobolds sat in a circle. Some were sharpening crude weapons, while others greedily chewed their food, completely unaware that the shadow of Death had quietly descended upon them. On the outskirts of the camp, a few kobold sentries yawned lazily, oblivious to the imminent danger.
Fang Zhou stood in a concealed spot. Seeing that the Skeleton Army was in position, he subtly raised his Magic Staff and gave it a gentle wave.
