Erebus materialized from shadows and dark energy, his Ancient Undead presence immediately shifting the balance of power on the battlefield. The Lich's form was imposing—tall and regal despite his skeletal nature, with robes that seemed to be woven from darkness itself and eye sockets that burned with eldritch fire.
"Master," his voice resonated with the authority of an Ancient consciousness, "I am at your service."
Gideon's confident expression shifted to something more wary as he studied my summon. "An Ancient Undead. Interesting. But surely you don't think—"
He never finished the sentence. Erebus's magic struck like a tide of darkness, bone spears erupting from the ground beneath Gideon's feet while necromantic energy sought to drain his enhanced vitality. Simultaneously, I launched myself forward with supernatural speed, Evolvis wreathed in Purelight radiance as it sought the openings that Erebus's assault had created.
