The air was heavy with the stench of decay.
As the sound of clinking armor and hurried footsteps echoed through the misty graveyard.
The knights and school guards had arrived at the scene.
Their faces grim under the pale moonlight.
Their polished armor glinted dully, and their drawn weapons reflected their readiness for battle.
In the midst of the chaos stood the three students—Draven Lockwood, Ariana Snow, Roselyn, and Elias—
Each with varying expressions of defiance, fear, and determination.
The captain of the knights, Sir Calder, a burly man with a commanding voice, pointed his sword at the students.
His tone was sharp, like the edge of his blade.
"What in the Emperor's na are you doing here?
You were supposed to be confined to the dormitories!
Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out here?!"
Ariana stepped forward, her usually calm deanor slightly shaken but her voice steady.
"We were the only ones outside when the disturbance began.
We couldn't ignore it.
There was an ominous energy near the cetery—"
"That doesn't justify disobeying orders!"
Another knight interjected, a younger but equally stern soldier nad Da Fiona.
"You're students, not soldiers.
Your duty is to stay safe so we can do our job!"
Roselyn, who had been nervously clutching a small satchel of potions, piped up hesitantly.
"W-We couldn't just wait while the undead were causing havoc.
Soone had to investigate...
Isn't that what Ravenwood teaches us?..."
Sir Calder pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly torn between anger and understanding.
"Your actions were reckless...
But sending you back to the dormitories now would be even more dangerous.
The cetery is swarming with these abominations, and I can't spare anyone to escort you."
Draven, who had been silent up to this point, spoke up, his tone calm but laced with authority.
"Then let us fight alongside you.
We've already faced them.
We know how to handle ourselves."
The knights exchanged doubtful glances, but there was no ti for further debate.
A chilling screech split the air, and the undead soldiers began to erge once more from the fog.
Their skeletal forms illuminated by the eerie green glow of their eyes.
"Brace yourselves!"
Sir Calder barked, raising his sword.
"No ti for argunts.
Fight or stay out of the way!"
The group imdiately sprang into action.
The knights ford a defensive line, their shields raised as the undead soldiers charged.
Sir Calder led the vanguard, his massive broadsword cleaving through bone with precision and power.
His strikes were thodical, each swing shattering the skeletal soldiers and sending shards of bone scattering across the ground.
Behind him, Da Fiona wielded a pair of short swords.
Her movents swift and calculated.
She danced through the horde, slicing through ribcages and skulls with deadly accuracy.
The school guards, less heavily ard but equally determined, flanked the knights, using spears to keep the undead at bay.
Their coordination was impressive, but the sheer number of enemies made it a grueling battle.
Draven stepped forward.
He unsheathed his sword—a basic weapon that shimred faintly in the dim light.
His movents were a blend of strength and finesse.
Each strike an artful display of swordsmanship.
With a single, powerful swing, Draven cleaved through three undead soldiers, their bodies crumbling into piles of bones.
Another soldier lunged at him, but he sidestepped gracefully, countering with a precise upward slash that severed its spine.
But his eyes burned with intensity, his focus unyielding as he carved through the horde.
Roselyn, though not a fighter by nature, refused to be a burden.
She rummaged through her satchel, her hands shaking slightly as she pulled out vials of shimring liquids.
"Take this!"
She shouted, tossing a vial toward a cluster of undead soldiers.
The vial shattered on impact, releasing a burst of bright blue light.
The liquid spread like wildfire, lting the bones of the soldiers it touched.
Roselyn's face lit up with a mix of relief and surprise.
"It worked!"
She continued to use her alchemical concoctions, each one designed for a specific purpose.
One vial created a sticky, flammable substance that immobilized the undead before bursting into flas.
Another released a cloud of corrosive gas that dissolved their bones.
But her ingenuity didn't stop there.
She pulled out a small, chanical device—
A contraption of gears and glowing crystals.
With a flick of a switch, the device emitted a high-pitched hum before firing bolts of concentrated energy at the undead.
"I may not be a swordswoman...like Senior Draven..."
She muttered to herself.
"...but I can still fight."
Ariana stood slightly apart from the lee, her hands glowing with a soft, ethereal light.
She closed her eyes, her voice barely audible as she chanted an incantation.
A gust of wind swept through the battlefield, carrying with it the faint whispers of elental spirits.
The spirits, invisible to most, manifested as bursts of elental magic.
A spirit of fire ignited a group of undead soldiers, their bones turning to ash as flas consud them.
A spirit of water summoned a torrential wave, washing away another group and scattering their remains.
Arianna's connection to the spirits was palpable, her every movent guided by their energy.
She directed them with precision, using their powers to support the knights and guards while keeping the undead at bay.
Despite their efforts, the undead soldiers kept coming, their numbers seemingly endless.
For every one that was destroyed, another rose to take its place.
The knights were growing weary, their movents slowing as exhaustion began to take its toll.
"This is futile!"
Da Fiona shouted, her voice strained.
"They just keep reforming!"
Draven paused for a brief mont, his chest heaving as he surveyed the battlefield.
His eyes narrowed as he noticed sothing peculiar—
The undead soldiers were reforming around a central point, their bones gravitating toward a dark, pulsing energy at their chests.
"Hey junior...." he called out.
"Do you see that?"
Read the latest on empire
Roselyn, who had been preparing another vial, looked up.
"Did senior Draven just look in my direction...and called my na?..."
Roselyn muttered clutching her mouth.
Her eyes lighting up.
"...I don't think he called your na..."
Elias who heard her said with an uninterested look said to Roselyn.
Her sharp mind quickly pieced together the puzzle.
"Of course!"
Roselyn exclaid.
"It's that glowing organ in their ribcages!
That's what's keeping them alive!...or undead?"
She turned to the others, her voice rising above the clamor of battle.
"Aim for their chests!
Destroy the black smoky hearts—they won't be able to reform!"
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