There were easily five hundred normal warriors, their armor broken, their bodies marked with wounds from the battle. Mixed among them were five that stood out even in death, the body tempering practitioners, their physiques still firm, their presence heavier than the rest.
Carrion stepped forward and lowered his head slightly.
"My lord, all the bodies we stored have been brought."
Aiden gave a small nod, his eyes sweeping across the mass of corpses without a hint of discomfort.
"Good."
He took a step closer to the pit, then spoke again, his voice calm and steady.
"Throw them in."
There was no hesitation.
Carrion turned slightly and raised his arm.
At that silent command, the undead moved.
One by one, then all at once.
Bodies were lifted and hurled into the pit, some falling limp, others tumbling over each other as they disappeared into the darkness below. The sound of flesh hitting something deep within echoed faintly, dull and wet, but it never seemed to fill the pit.
