The assembled legion of undead, a terrifying mix of sand wolves, one-eyed night owls, earth bears, spider banshees, and more, moved through the forest and grasslands as undead. A dark miasma billowed into the sky above them, and the air was thick with the scent of decay and the glow of thousands of bloodthirsty, crimson eyes.
Wherever this army passed, any creature encountered was either assimilated into their ranks or devoured by them.
"Oh my God!" came the cries. "Run!"
"Hurry up and report to the guild!"
The adventurers scattered in a panic, fleeing upward to other floors, desperate to escape the unfolding horror.
As the narrative of terror continued to spread through the dungeon labyrinth, the reality of the threat crystallized. The adventurers' survival hinged on a swift escape and an urgent warning. The labyrinth had become a deadly battleground, where the rules of nature were warped into a grotesque theater of survival.