Graveknit stood near the entrance, unmoving, like a statue that had been waiting for their return. His hollow gaze lifted slightly as Carrion approached, taking in the army, the numbers, the state of what remained.
"You took your time," Graveknit said, his voice low and steady.
Carrion stopped a few steps away.
"The objective is complete," he replied simply.
Vermis walked in behind him, brushing a strand of hair back as if she had just come from a quiet stroll rather than a battlefield soaked in blood. Her expression carried a faint satisfaction, though her eyes still held that same restless gleam.
"It was fun," she said lightly. "They struggled more than I expected."
Graveknit's gaze shifted past them.
Toward what the undead carried.
Bodies.
Hundreds of them.
