The process was slow at first, bodies dragging themselves upward with stiff, unnatural movements, bones creaking, joints struggling as if remembering how to move after years of stillness. Dirt fell away from their frames as they forced themselves free, hollow eye sockets staring into nothing.
Aiden didn't stop.
His hand remained raised, his focus tightening as he poured more mana into the skill.
The ground responded more violently now.
More graves collapsed.
More bodies rose.
The weak ones came first. Old skeletons, barely held together, some missing bones, others cracked and worn by time. Their movements were sluggish, uncoordinated, far from the disciplined undead in his army.
But they kept rising.
One after another.
Dozens turned into hundreds.
The cemetery filled with the sound of shifting earth and scraping bone as nearly every grave was disturbed, the dead answering his call without question.
Aiden's breathing grew heavier.
He could feel the drain clearly now.
