"Hmm? Why?" Kazmir raised an eyebrow, full of confusion.
"Because of the quality of these creatures."
He Xi nudged the skeleton on the ground with the tip of his foot. "Any Undead Mage in their right mind would make their servants as strong and sturdy as possible when converting them."
"And the skill [Animate Dead] consumes the caster's mana according to the corpse's attributes in life."
He Xi looked toward the stone pillar. "But you saw it just now—the skeletons that rushed out were all weak, ordinary skeletons."
"What would a high-ranking Undead Mage want with so much trash cannon fodder?"
"Haha! I knew it, he's just a rat hiding in the gutter!"
Ulag sprang to his feet excitedly and looked at the stone pillar sealing the passage. "Then what are we waiting for? Brother He Xi, hurry up and move this big thing of yours! My axe can't wait any longer!"
"What's the rush!"
Though Kazmir had also been convinced and temporarily set aside the fear in his heart, he still reminded them, "Even if we're going in to judge evil, we should wait ten minutes for the great poet and mage to rest and recover first!"
Seeing his companions' fighting spirit reignite, He Xi smiled faintly and did not object to Kazmir's suggestion to rest.
In truth, there was an even more absolute reason why he was so certain.
He looked at the green fungal threads still wriggling across the ground.
A vague, chaotic emotional ripple, yet one filled with an intense urge to flee, seemed to drift through a thick veil.
It was fear.
Fear seemed to be spreading silently through the fungal network among its kind in the depths of the darkness.
Ten minutes later.
Rumble—!
As the stone pillar collapsed, the undead trapped behind the