The street was becoming a thick, chaotic mass of groaning, shambling bodies.
For every undead Rhys and Emma cut down, two more seemed to take its place. The sheer number of them was overwhelming.
Then, they heard it.
A low, deep, groaning sound. It was not from a single undead. It was a collective sound, coming from all over the city. It was the sound of an entire city waking up from a long, dead sleep.
Rhys cut down another undead, its rotten head separating from its body with a wet squelch.
He looked up at the castle on the hill. The feeling of being watched was stronger now.
He could feel a powerful, malevolent consciousness at the heart of the city, a single will that was controlling this entire army of the dead.
It was like a giant spider, and they were just two small flies caught in its vast, growing web.
He grabbed Emma's arm. "We have to get to the high ground!" he shouted over the noise. "We can't fight them all here!"
