The disciples reacted out of habit.
They drew their weapons and formed a loose line in front of the compound, their grips tight, eyes locked on the approaching figures.
The first skeleton reached them.
It didn't slow down.
It didn't react.
It just walked forward.
One of the younger clan member stepped in first, swinging his blade with a shout, trying to steady his nerves.
The strike landed cleanly.
The skeleton's arm snapped off and fell to the ground.
For a split second, the clan member froze.
"…That's it?" he said, almost surprised.
Relief flickered across his face.
"They're weak!"
That gave the others courage. They moved in, blades swung, then bones cracked.
Skeletons fell apart under their strikes, collapsing into piles of scattered remains.
"See?!" one of them shouted. "They're nothing!"
The elder didn't relax.
His eyes stayed fixed forward. Because more were coming.
They kept walking.
