In the darkness, corpse puppets wrapped in tattered black robes ran wildly through the Hero Cemetery.
Their steps were heavy and mechanical, accompanied by low rumbling sounds and a large amount of dust; they had just awakened from death and their bodies were not yet very agile.
Zhang Lingxue looked down at the ground, watching countless black shadows swoop past, racing like beasts; a trace of anger flashed in her eyes. How bold the Corpse Speaker was to dare desecrate the heroes' undead!
Oh heroes, your bones should not be desecrated. Let me, Zhang Lingxue, grant you your final liberation.
A fierce glint appeared in Zhang Lingxue's eyes.
The eyes of the corpse puppets showed no sign of life, only a cold, mechanical drive pushing them to approach the blazing figure in the sky.
Suddenly, the corpse puppets accelerated and leapt into the air, the black robe flapping wildly in the wind, its decayed hands outstretched, and hollow eye sockets looking somewhat fierce.
