How is this… possible?!
For a brief moment, the Winter Lord's mind was in utter chaos.
It wasn't the throbbing pain in his torso that froze him. No. It was the shock that one of his undead servants had actually assaulted him.
This undead zombie in the dented helmet, it looked like an undead, smelled like an undead, and even radiated the aura of an undead. Yet, why did it suddenly attack him? And why did it seem to take pleasure in it as well?
At the core of the School of Necromancy lay an absolute rule: summoned undead were bound by unwavering loyalty to their summoner.
Their will was overwritten by the Necromancer's command, their existence sustained solely to obey. They could not hesitate. They could not refuse. And they most certainly could not betray.
That was the very foundation of this deathly art.
