Chapter 17: Necromancer’s Playground
Silas left the open field and entered the forest, planning to make the most of his time and get stronger.
He took a step inside. The atmosphere was cold, and for some reason, even the sun didn't penetrate the trees—as if the forest was in constant night, its very nature laced with mystical properties.
Every step he took was wet, mud and dirt clinging to his boots, flora grazing his uniform.
"What the hell is up with this place?"
Silas spoke aloud, the undead wolf in front of him helping to navigate the forest—biting down on leaves, branches, and more to clear the way and scan for threats.
The wolf suddenly growled, baring its fangs, its dead eyes fierce.
"What is it, boy?"
Silas stepped forward, brushing aside a branch that had been blocking his view.
A bear—fighting a pack of wolves. Ten versus one. And it looked like the wolves were winning.
Silas ducked, hiding behind a tree near the fight, his scent masked by the smell of damp mud.
I wonder...