The ghouls bled black under Tarek’s blade, but they didn’t stop coming. He slashed another across the throat, its snarling face locked in rage even as it fell. Behind him, the sorceress Yra knelt, hands pressed to the ruined temple floor, whispering in an ancient tongue.
A shriek split the air as the horde surged. Tarek wrenched a torch from the sconce, hurling it into the dried-out tapestries. Fire roared, forcing the creatures back.
“Hurry!” he growled.
Yra gasped, her eyes flashing gold. The air pulsed; the temple walls groaned. A spectral beast burst from the stone—a lion of swirling mist. It leapt, jaws crashing down on the undead.
The ghouls screeched, torn apart by the summoned entity.
As the storm of magic faded, the lion turned its glowing gaze on them. Yra stumbled. “I… I lost control—”
Tarek raised his sword, but the beast simply bowed before dissolving.
“The seal is broken,” Yra whispered.
Tarek wiped blood from his blade. More battles would come. He only hoped they’d survive the next.
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