Her main reason for not shooting wasn’t because she trusted that the undeads would handle it, even though that was true. It was more practical than that.

Even if she shot, she had to be a really, really good aimer like Pannett to actually hit the target. And even for Pannett, this might be a very tricky one.

The creature was constantly moving, thrashing and twisting, its armored body coiling and uncoiling as it fought against the undead wolves. Its head was low to the ground, its neck protected by thick plates of natural armor that would deflect most arrows. And with four undead wolves flanking the sides of the creature, constantly shifting positions as they attacked, there was a very real risk that any arrow she loosed would hit one of them instead.

Even a clean shot, perfectly aimed, might not penetrate that armor.

And a shot that missed or glanced off would be useless. So she didn’t shoot. She just watched, her bow still raised, her eyes tracking the struggle.

The creature slithered like a snake but not quite, its movements somewhere between a serpent and something else entirely. It reminded her of a deer trying to escape, desperate and panicked, but with none of the grace. It thrashed and twisted, using its armored body to deflect attacks while its clawed legs scraped against the forest floor, trying to find purchase.

But it was good and strong. For something that small, actually putting up a strong resistance against four powerful undeads? That was saying a lot. Most creatures would have been overwhelmed in seconds, torn apart before they even had a chance to fight back. This one had held its ground, had fought back, had made the undeads work for their victory. There was something admirable about that, even in a creature that had been trying to kill them.

Darion watched the struggle go on for a while, and he was even ready to summon Ghet Ulg or Edric Vorne’s corpse to intervene if things dragged on too long. But the creature was finally killed. Its death hadn’t been the result of one undead playing a significant part, it was obvious from the way the fight had gone.

Instead, it had been a collective effort, where every hit from any of them meant something. A bite here, a claw there, a Rop’s wide mouth closing on an exposed joint. Together, they had worn it down, piece by piece, until it could no longer fight.

Darion and Seren exchanged glances, and Seren said: "That was an intense watch..."

"True," Darion said as he stepped closer to examine the corpse.

The four undeads now stood still, looking at nothing in particular, waiting to be unsummoned or given a command again. Their green eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, their bodies still and patient. They had done their job. Now they waited.

Words appeared across on his status screen in front of him:

Creature name: Slitherer

Threat Level: High

Darion went over the name. Slitherer. It sounded like a fitting name, he concluded. The creature had moved exactly like that, slithering across the ground, its long body twisting and coiling as it fought against the undead wolves. It wasn’t a snake, not exactly, but it moved like one, using its powerful muscles to propel itself forward in a series of undulating motions.

The name captured that movement perfectly. Simple. Descriptive. The kind of name that told you everything you needed to know about the creature before you even saw it.

"It’s called a Slitherer," Darion said to Seren, who was staring at the now dead creature, examining it with the kind of focused attention that hunters used when trying to understand their prey.

Seren furrowed a brow and turned to look at Darion. "A Slitherer?"

"Yes," Darion replied.

"How did you know the name?" she asked.

"I just do," Darion said, the lie coming easily. "I studied about creatures deep in the forest before."

That seemed to be enough of a good answer for Seren, who now continued looking at the creature. She didn’t press further, which was good. Darion didn’t want to explain that the system had told him. That would have raised too many questions.

’What is a system?’

’So you are not from this world.’

Darion walked over, crouched down, and placed his hand on the chest of the creature. For a moment there, as he stared at it, it almost looked awake. Its eyes were still open, its body still tense, like something that would suddenly come to life and attack him. The armored plates gleamed faintly in the dim light, and the claws on its legs looked sharp enough to tear through leather. It was a creature designed to kill, and even in death, it looked dangerous.

But it didn’t move. It was dead. And when he said the word, the thing that normally happened when he touched a dead creature happened.

"Arise."

Green light spread from his palm, washing over the creature’s body like liquid fire. It seeped into the wounds, filled the hollow spaces, and wrapped around the bones. The creature’s body twitched once, twice, and then its eyes opened, glowing green. It rose up, its movements stiff at first, then smoother as the binding settled. It stood before him, ready to serve, its green eyes fixed on its new master.

Seren looked at him, then at the creature, and laughed. "This... this feels uncomfortable," she said, her voice carrying a mix of unease and amusement.

Darion laughed too. Truly it was weird, a dangerous creature that had tried to kill them, that would have at least bitten one of them if not for the swift intervention of his undeads. A creature that they had killed was now alive, standing before them like a loyal pet. It amused Seren in a pleasantly disturbing way.

Words appeared to Darion again:

[Animal Undead Inventory: 16/70]

Darion looked at it. Still a long way to go. Fifty-four more slots to fill. At this rate, he would be in the forest for days.

The only thing that would help him now was to stumble on a pack of wild animals. Finding a pack was better than killing creatures one by one for several reasons.

First, a pack meant multiple kills in a single encounter, which meant multiple additions to his inventory at once. Instead of spending hours tracking down individual creatures, he could take down an entire group in a few minutes.

Second, packs tended to stay together, which made them easier to find. Once you located one, you could follow their tracks, their sounds, their scent, and you would know exactly where to find them.

Third, packs were more efficient targets. A single creature might take just as much effort to kill as a pack of five, but the payoff was much lower. If he was going to risk his life in a fight, he might as well make it worth his while.

Well, it was time to continue hunting. Seeing that this part of the forest would be more dangerous, Darion summoned another wild wolf and another Rop. The remaining creatures in his inventory now were undead bats, and he was sure they wouldn’t be of much help for something as physical as this. Bats were good for scouting, for spreading venom, for infiltration. But in a direct fight against armored predators? They would be useless.

Now he had seven undeads with him as protectors and fellow hunters. Without them, he wouldn’t have the boldness to keep moving. In fact, without them, he was already dead. He knew that. He accepted it. His power came from his army, from the creatures he had raised, from the dead that fought for him. Alone, he was just a man with a sword. With his undeads, he was something more.

They continued moving, cautious as ever, the undead animals arranged in a protective circle around them. The formation was simple but effective: two wolves at the front, scanning the path ahead with their glowing green eyes, their noses low to the ground, catching scents that would have been invisible to living creatures.

Two Rops flanked the sides, their four eyes tracking the shadows between trees, their wide mouths ready to snap at anything that emerged from the underbrush. Another wolf brought up the rear, watching their backs, making sure nothing crept up behind them. And the remaining undeads moved in the gaps, filling the spaces between, ensuring there was no opening for anything to slip through.

It meant every side was covered. There was no angle of approach that Darion and Seren could be caught from without the undeads intercepting the threat. They didn’t have to watch their own backs, didn’t have to worry about what might be lurking in the shadows. The undeads did that for them. That was the point of having an army, you didn’t have to do everything yourself.

So they weren’t too scared. Darion’s mind was seemingly twitching, though, alert and restless, scanning for anything that might be too strong for the undead wild animals he had summoned. Any thing he noticed would be too strong for them, his undead knights would step in. The wolves and Rops were good, but they had their limits. They could handle wolves, packs of smaller predators, even something like the Slitherer. But if they encountered something truly dangerous, something that even seven undeads couldn’t handle, Darion would have to escalate.

There certainly were powerful creatures in this forest, but they would be no match for the 150 knights waiting in his inventory.