Hundreds of undead troops had now moved to occupy their positions.
The Shadow Zombies, thin and soundless, spread across the island's many edges. Their bodies flitted like stains of ink on snow, slipping into frozen forests, high cliffs, and the black rock crevices facing the sea. They were Sylvia's eyes in the darkness, scouts unseen by human sight.
Elsewhere, tattered-robed Zombie Mages stood in formation atop the cliffs. Their staves were upright, tips glowing with faint purple fire that pulsed to the rhythm of the ocean waves. They required no food or rest, only to stand still and gaze at the horizon. The moment a ship appeared, their spells were ready to rain fire or ice upon the sea, cutting off the enemy before they ever set foot on land.
