The giant body crumbled in all directions, making Lancelot fall backwards, using Caladbolg to keep his body stead; now that her power was used, he could only focus on his strength, standing with her in both hands.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as an aura spread from his feet, expanding around the ground slowly, the disgusting and rotten snow taking a magical purple colouring... his body and skin filled with veins pulsing and writhing under them, drawing whatever ether he could find and use whether pure, rotting or undead.
"Ha.....haa....."
His body was tired but could recover with only a few moments rest; as he stabbed Caladbolg into the earth, the moment the blade penetrated the circle around him, its radius doubled, covering hundreds of zombies at once as the ground began to shake.
"Even if you send a thousand, I shall slay a thousand; if you send a million, I will slay a million. I am the blade that protects my kingdom and loved ones."