Chapter 781: Lich
The second wave of undead was a tide of corpses, flowing through the forest in a fetid, rotting river. They smashed into our front lines, overwhelming the scions by sheer numbers. Evolved demons rallied to the fray, throwing themselves into battle.
A horde of dozens piled onto a salamander-like evolved demon, breaking their teeth and ripping fingers on its scales. The demon lashed out with four serrated claws, leaving mutilated piles of pulp in its wake. But, eventually, it fell under the tide, buried under the sheer numbers of bodies.
The assault slowed as more demons charged at the new threat. A sixth-level fire demon unleashed a devastating attack that annihilated fifty at once, opening a gap in the Risen ranks that allowed our forces a moment to breathe. A few blade demons led the countercharge, slicing bloated bodies apart with every motion. Scions filled in the gaps, tearing apart anything unlucky enough to survive the evisceration.
"Where are they all coming from?" Elise asked, gripping her skirt tightly.
R’lissea went still. "They’re all elves."
I gasped, realizing she was right. Of the hundreds, maybe thousands of Risen pouring from the depths of the forest, every single one of them were elves.
"It seems we need look no further for the city of Echo Hearth," Fyren said grimly.
I bit my lip, blinking away tears as they gathered. "I’m sorry," I whispered, touching R’lissea’s shoulder.
She didn’t react, just continued to stare blankly at the massacre.
"Something’s not right," Fyren said, frowning deeply. He looked at me. "The Risen, they’re too organized. What was that thing before? It tried to speak to us."
"A lich," I said. "Connor created them to lead the horde. They’re intelligent, like people, and can use magic."