Strength up by four. Agility up by three. Everything else creeping up by two. That made him wonder. He felt like he should have gotten more, y’know, this was hard to pull off.

Or was it? His undeads had done all the work while he just stood back and watched.

From what Darion had learned, any fight that his undeads participated in made his attributes increase.

The system seemed to reward him for victories, even if he wasn’t the one swinging the sword. With this fight, he certainly should have gotten more. The sheer power he had summoned, the scale of the battle, the fact that he had faced four creatures rated as Very High threat, all of that should have translated into bigger gains.

But instead, he had gotten the same small increases he always got. A point here, a point there. Nothing dramatic, only slow steady grind of incremental progress. Of recent, he had just been getting added just 2 or something like that.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a jump of five or six points. Maybe the system was throttling him. Maybe the higher your stats got, the harder it was to increase them. Or maybe the system simply didn’t reward him as much when his undeads did all the fighting. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. The system was never too clear about how it worked.

Well, nothing dramatic, but consistent. He was growing, slowly but surely. And now he had four Yuimons in his inventory. That alone made the trip worthwhile. He imagined how easy this hunt would be with the Yuimons by his side. How terrifying and powerful they would be as undeads.

They were massive creatures, strong enough to crush a man with a single blow, armored enough to withstand attacks that would have torn other creatures apart.

With four of them in his inventory, he would be nearly unstoppable. The hunt was going well. Very well.

But then, as Darion was about to unsummon all of his undeads back into his inventory, leaving some for the hunt, he heard a loud THUD THUD!

The sound was unmistakable. Heavy footsteps. Many of them. Coming from somewhere ahead, deep in the forest. What started as one turned into numerous runs, a growing drumbeat that seemed to shake the ground beneath his feet. Darion was baffled. He had just finished a fight, had just revived four Yuimons, had just been feeling the satisfaction of victory. What now?

Seren came closer now, her bow raised, her eyes scanning the treeline. She looked at Darion, her expression a mixture of confusion and concern. Darion called on his undeads to make a circle around him. The knights formed a protective ring, their weapons raised, their green eyes scanning the darkness.

The wolves and Rops moved into position, covering the gaps. The Yuimons stood at the outer edge of the formation, their massive bodies a wall of flesh and bone.

"What’s that?" Seren asked, her voice low.

Darion listened. The thudding was getting louder, closer. It wasn’t just one animal, it was many. A group. A herd. Something was running toward them at full speed.

His mind raced through the possibilities. "Seems like a herd of animals is running towards us at full speed," he concluded. The sound was unmistakable. Heavy, pounding footsteps that shook the ground. Whatever it was, it was large, and there were a lot of them.

He went through the possibilities in his head and came to one immediate conclusion. The battle with the Yuimons had definitely been large, and frankly, he had sort of been avoiding loud noises prior to the fight.

That was why he didn’t summon Ghet Ulg or Edric Vorne or any of those corpses earlier on. He had been avoiding attracting other creatures. The forest was full of predators, and loud noises brought them running.

But when the fight happened with his undeads and the Yuimons, it was a really loud fight, enough to call the attention of other animals in the region.

The loud shouts of the Yuimons, especially the first one as they fell to their deaths, created a really large sound. It had echoed through the trees, vibrating through the air, traveling far beyond the clearing where the battle had taken place.

What other Yuimons in the region saw it as a call of help and it attracted them? Or maybe it was something else entirely. Maybe the noise had startled a herd of grazing animals, sending them running in panic. Maybe it had alerted a pack of predators that were now converging on the site of the battle.

Something that loud. What had he been thinking, not planning to retaliate or prepare for an assault over the much noise in a forest? He had been careless. He had been so focused on the fight, on the victory, that he had forgotten the basic rule of survival in a place like this: noise attracts attention.

And in a forest full of dangerous creatures, attention was the last thing you wanted.

Damn.

The thudding grew louder. The ground trembled. Whatever was coming, it was close now. Very close.

Darion gripped his weapon and prepared to fight.

Not that he would he using the sword for anything.

The creatures didn’t stop by the way.

Eleven Yuimons, massive and relentless, crashed through the trees like a force of nature. Their armored bodies tore through branches and brush, their circular mouths open, their teeth glistening in the dim light. They moved with terrifying speed for creatures their size, not charging blindly, but coordinated. They were hunting.

Darion had seconds to react. Maybe less. His mind raced through the possibilities, calculating distances, angles, the positions of his undeads. Eleven Yuimons. That was almost three times the number they had just fought. And these ones weren’t standing around waiting to be attacked, they were charging, full speed, with murder in their eyes.

Darion commanded them to attack from his mind.

The wolves and Rops surged forward first, low to the ground, darting between the massive legs of the Yuimons.

They were fast, agile, trained to target joints and tendons. They snapped at ankles, bit at the soft flesh behind the knees, tried to slow the stampede. Their teeth found purchase in the vulnerable spots, tearing into flesh and drawing blood.

But the Yuimons were stronger. Their massive bodies crashed through the wolves’ attacks like they were nothing.

One of the wolves misjudged its attack, darting in too close, and was caught by a massive clawed foot. It was crushed instantly, its body flattened against the forest floor.

Darion felt the loss through the bond, a flicker of green light, then nothing. The wolf was gone, its essence scattered. Another wolf was swatted aside like a fly, its body slamming into a tree with a sickening crack.

The Rops fared better, their low profile allowing them to dodge and weave, but they couldn’t stop the charge.

Darion realized: unlike the former Yuimons they encountered and killed, these were more organized and many.

They moved with purpose, their formation tight and their attacks coordinated. And they were coming at them with pure rage and so much aggressiveness.

The former Yuimons had been kind of defensive, reacting to the attack. These ones were on the offensive, and they were not going to stop until their targets were dead.

Darion ordered his knights forward. They moved in formation, their boots pounding against the earth, their weapons raised.

Each Yuimon had knights on them, swarming them like ants on a fallen carcass. The undead knights attacked the legs, swinging their swords at joints, chopping at the thick tendons behind the knees, trying to bring the creatures down.

Others thrust their weapons into the exposed flesh between the armored plates. They weren’t trying to kill, they were trying to slow them down, create openings, buy time.

The Yuimons roared in frustration, their massive bodies twisting and turning as they tried to shake off the attackers.

One of the creatures lunged forward, its circular mouth closing around an undead knight’s torso. The knight’s body was crushed instantly, its bones splintering, its green eyes fading. Another Yuimon stomped down, crushing two more knights beneath its massive feet. The undeads kept fighting, kept attacking, but they were losing ground.

Seren fired arrows from behind the line. She aimed for the eyes, the gaps in the armor, the soft tissue around the mouths.

Her arrows were small, but they were precise. One struck a Yuimon in the eye, sending it reeling, its head snapping back in pain. Another buried itself in the folds of a creature’s neck, causing it to stumble. She was making a difference at least.

Darion held his sword and watched. He commanded through the binding, directing his undeads, adjusting their positions, trying to find the weak points.

He didn’t have to shout commands, the undeads responded to his thoughts, moving where he wanted them to move, attacking where he wanted them to attack.

It was a strange feeling, like being the conductor of an orchestra of violence.