Thoren was deeply unsettled.
No, puzzled did not even begin to describe it.
He had exhausted every method at his disposal.
Every tactic.
Every calculated strike.
His undead had battered, torn, restrained, and dismembered the monster again and again. And yet, despite all of it, the creature still stood.
Everything he had done had proven abortive.
It was as if the monster were truly immortal.
The realization sent a chill crawling up Thoren's spine.
Before he could fully process the thought, a deafening crash echoed through the chamber.
One of his Undead High Nobles was sent flying violently through the air, its skull shattering into fragments mid-flight.
The undead body slammed into the ground with a heavy thud.
It did not rise again.
Thoren's expression twisted painfully as he watched the extinguished soul fire fade from the broken remains.
His fingers curled slowly into a fist.
He forced himself to look away and turned his gaze back toward the monster.
