It was humanoid in shape, but its head was that of an ox. Two enormous curved horns jutted outward, stained black and cracked. Empty eye sockets burned with sickly blue flames that flickered like dying embers.
Its ribcage was split open, and inside it swirled dense black mist. The mist pulsed slowly, like a living heart breathing in darkness.
As the creature fully rose from the crater, a massive shadow spread across the battlefield.
The air became heavy and suffocating. Breathing felt difficult, as if invisible hands were pressing down on everyone's chest.
Knights swallowed hard.
Even the surrounding undead froze in place. Their bodies trembled, and many of them lowered their heads, as if bowing before their master.
Randall lifted his sword slowly. His grip tightened, and his expression turned grim.
"So that's what's behind this mess," he said in a low voice.
The ox-headed skeleton answered him.
A deep, hollow roar burst from its throat.
CREAKKK!
