Xander crouched low in the palisade's shadow. Around him, the ten combined team members gathered in tense silence, their eyes scanning the dark landscape before them. The only sound was the faint rustling of the wind against the towering wall behind them. Above, the moon barely peeked through heavy clouds, casting a faint silvery light that only deepened the darkness surrounding the undead camp.

The undead army's camp stretched out before them like a blackened scar on the earth. Crumbling fortifications haphazardly surrounded tents of rotting fabric and bones, dimly lit by eerie green flames flickering in braziers along the periphery. Xander's gaze landed on the nervous scout leading their group. The young man, barely level four, stood on the edge of their group, visibly shaking, his breathing uneven. He lacked the necessary level and experience, but his information was vital.

Xander glanced to his right. Harvey, massive as always, stood ready, his war hammer secured to his back. His expression was hard, but Xander knew him well enough to see the impatience beneath the surface. He was eager for action to smash through the enemy forces. But tonight, brute force wasn't the answer.

"All right, everyone knows the plan," Xander whispered, his voice barely audible in the still night. His eyes swept over the group. Jo stood just behind him, her one-handed sword held low. She moved with a dancer's grace, her footsteps soundless on the dirt.

The group nodded in response, their focus laser-sharp. The scout swallowed nervously, but there was no turning back. Xander gestured toward the wall, where a rope ladder dangled down, prepared by Mason earlier when they'd sneaked the scouts back into Starlight.

One by one, they descended, Xander keeping his movements slow and deliberate. The ladder creaked faintly under their weight, but not enough to draw attention. As he climbed, Xander allowed his mind to clear of everything but the task ahead. They had a mission, and the timer was ticking. The next undead assault on Starlight was just hours away.

When Xander reached the bottom of the palisade, he crouched beside Kane, scanning the camp nearby. From this vantage point, the camp stretched out like a twisted version of a military outpost. But something was wrong. The undead soldiers, skeletal and rotting, were patrolling in loose, almost disorganized patterns. The haphazard placement of the tents showed no formation or strategic layout.

Kane narrowed his eyes, his voice barely a whisper as he spoke. "That formation is all wrong. It's sloppy."

Xander pondered what they were looking at for a moment. The undead displayed various levels of organization, from mindless undead to highly trained armies. But here, something was off.

Behind them, Zoey quipped in a low voice, "Maybe the AI in charge is having a bad day." She smirked, though the tension in her eyes betrayed her attempt at lightening the mood.

"Or they're throwing us a softball," Ford whispered, clearly trying to follow his lead.

Xander didn't respond. His gut told him there was no such thing as a lucky break here. The disarray felt intentional, like a trap they hadn't quite sprung yet. But there wasn't time to dwell on it now. They were on the outskirts of the camp now, weaving between broken crates and mounds of dirt. The greenish flames cast long shadows across the ground, making every step feel like a gamble.

"Let's move," Xander whispered. He signaled to the scout, who gave a nervous nod and began leading the group further into the lion's den that was the undead encampment.

The scout took the lead, guiding them through the narrow pathways between tents. Xander kept a close eye on him, noting the way the young man's hands trembled as he signaled for them to stop and move. The gap in their levels was glaringly obvious. Xander and the others moved with controlled and deliberate movements, forged by battle. The barely level-four scout looked like he was moments away from bolting.

"Keep it together," Xander whispered to him as they passed. "You're doing fine."

The scout gave a jerky nod, his face pale. "I just… didn't expect them to be so… close. When we came through earlier, there wasn't this many," he muttered, casting a glance toward a skeletal figure shuffling nearby.

The group moved as one, their movements silent. Harvey, though large, moved with surprising grace for a man of his size. Kane, ever the stoic protector, was calm and deliberate in his steps. Jo, her blade held low, was as quiet as a shadow. Zoey trailed behind, her bow at the ready, her eyes constantly scanning their surroundings.

The air was frosty and carried the faint, sickly sweet stench of decay. Xander's every sense was on edge, attuned to the slightest sound, the faintest movement. He knew they couldn't afford a single misstep. They couldn't fight their way through the camp if they were caught. Not with the number of undead here.

After several tense minutes, the scout suddenly froze, his hand shooting up in a signal for them to stop. Xander halted immediately, motioning for the others to do the same. His heart pounded in his chest as he spotted the source of the scout's fear. It was a patrol moving their direction. Five undead soldiers, their skeletal frames illuminated by the sickly green light. Leading them was a hulking figure draped in tattered robes, its face hidden beneath a hood.

Xander's muscles tensed as the patrol approached, their hollow eyes glowing faintly. They moved with a strange, unnatural rhythm, their bones creaking as they passed by the group's hiding spot. The patrol was too close for comfort, their skeletal feet dragging across the dirt just feet away from where they crouched behind an enormous pile of crates.

The scout's breathing quickened, his hand trembling as it hovered near the hilt of his dagger. Xander could see the fear in his eyes. The young man was on the verge of a panic attack.

Xander reached out slowly, his hand steady as he placed it on the scout's shoulder. The scout flinched but didn't move. "Breathe," Xander whispered, his voice barely audible. "We're almost there. Stay calm."

The scout nodded quickly, though his face remained pale, his lips pressed into a tight line.

The patrol continued to move past them, slow and deliberate. The hulking figure at the front turned its head slightly, as if sensing something, and Xander held his breath. He thought the patrol had spotted them for a moment, but the figure turned back and kept moving its group deeper into the camp.

When the patrol was finally out of sight, Xander released the hold he had on the scout's shoulder. The group remained still for several more seconds, waiting until the last sounds of the patrol faded into the distance.

"Good job," Xander whispered to the scout. "Let's keep moving."

The scout swallowed hard, his nerves still frayed, but he nodded and signaled for the group to follow. They pressed on, moving deeper into the camp, avoiding the sporadic patrols that meandered through the twisted encampment. Xander's muscles ached from the tension, but his focus never wavered.

The eerie glow of the undead's braziers continued to cast long, jagged shadows across the ground, distorting the figures of the undead and making the entire camp feel like something out of a nightmare. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint clinking of bones and the distant murmur of shuffling feet.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the group reached the far edge of the camp. There, standing ominously in the center of a small clearing, was the campaign tent. It was much larger than the others, its black fabric adorned with strange, glowing runes. The air around it felt heavier and colder, and Xander could sense the malevolent energy radiating from within.

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The group crouched behind a low stack of crates, surveying the area. No patrols were in sight, but the tension in the air was thick, as if the tent itself was alive, watching them. Xander's eyes narrowed as he studied the structure. This was it. The heart of the undead command. Inside that tent was their target.

"We're here," Xander whispered, his voice steady but low. He glanced at Harvey, then at Kane and the others. "Get ready. This is it."

Harvey gave a thumbs up before gripping his war hammer with both hands, his eyes burning with determination. Kane adjusted his shield and set his jaw. The rest of the group was equally prepared, their faces hard with resolve.

Xander turned to the scout, who was breathing heavily but still standing. "You did good," he told him quietly. "Stay close. We're almost done."

The scout nodded, though his hands were still shaking.

"Here we go. Kane, Wyatt, you're going in first. We don't know what we're getting into here, but we try to split off to the right and left. This will give the rest of us some room. I'm basing this on nothing but years of online gaming, but I'm going to bet all the gold I have that this isn't a standard boss fight," Xander explained.

"You," he said, pointing toward the scout, "can't stay out here, but you'll probably be under-leveled for this encounter. I recommend coming with us into the tent and then finding someplace where you can stay out of the way."

"Does anyone have questions? We will have to wing some of this, so if you see something, say something. Don't assume that the rest of us saw what you did."

Xander paused for a moment, giving everyone a moment to speak up. It was easy to see that everyone had questions, but they all knew that there were questions they didn't have answers to. Xander hoped that the champion in the tent was the general and that they were alone. That wasn't reality. While he was confident that the general was in the tent, he was also confident that they wouldn't be alone.

"Here we go. Stack up, and we go on three," Xander said as everyone filed to either side of the tent flap. "One… two… three!"

The stench of decay hit Xander like a wall as he and his companions burst into the campaign tent. The air inside was thick with the oppressive weight of necrotic energy, and the flickering green flames cast grotesque shadows along the canvas walls. In the center of the tent stood General Malgrath, Warden of the Dead, towering over everything. His hulking form was encased in rusted armor, and the only sign of life were the green flames burning ominously beneath his hood. A single knight stood on either side of the general.

[Analyze] General Malgrath, Warden of the Dead | Level: 25 Boss | Status: Hostile | Class: Special [Analyse] Royal Skeletal Guard | Level: 10 Elite | Status: Hostile | Class: Fighter [Analyse] Royal Skeletal Guard | Level: 10 Elite | Status: Hostile | Class: Fighter

Xander's grip tightened around his spear as he scanned the room. This was it. This was what the system notifications had been hinting at all along. The Champion the scouts had reported was none other than the undead general himself. A brief surge of satisfaction flickered through Xander's mind. He'd been right. But there was no time to dwell on that victory. There were far more pressing concerns. He would have taken a moment to be smug about being right, but seeing that the general was level twenty-five, his stomach dropped.

The Second Battle of Starlight Quest Update! Defending forces have counter-attacked! You have engaged the attacking army during their period of regrouping. This has triggered an immediate response, triggering the next siege wave. Attacking forces will be 30% less effective because of a shortened period of regrouping. Victory Conditions: Survive for 48 hours while maintaining the structural integrity of the Starlight stronghold or destroy a significant portion of the enemy forces. The value of each defeated unit will vary based on the type and quality of the enemy combatant. WARNING! Failure to meet either condition will result in the fall of Starlight and its destruction as a safe zone.

As soon as they entered, a sudden quest update flashed across his vision, sending a spike of panic through his chest. The next wave of the siege has started early. Starlight's defenses are under immediate attack. The words lingered in his mind, stark and brutal. The defenders had no time to prepare. JT's worst fears had come true. They had screwed up.

"Dammit," Xander said. He felt the panic bubbling up, but he shoved it down. Now wasn't the time. He spun to the group. "We don't have time. We take these knights down fast, and we move."

His voice was urgent but steady, commanding their attention. Kane nodded, his shield already up, eyes locked on the two skeletal knights guarding the front of the tent. Their armor rattled as they stepped forward, rusted swords gleaming in the green light. Behind Xander, Zoey was already pulling a frost-tipped arrow from her quiver.

"Let's make this quick," she said, her usual humor replaced with tense focus.

At the back of the tent, the scout who had led them here scrambled behind a stack of crates, his eyes wide with fear as the panic attack he had been holding off finally broke through. Xander couldn't blame him. This fight was way above his level. "Stay down and stay quiet," Xander barked over his shoulder.

The skeletal knights advanced. Their movements were jerky but deliberate, each step clanking with the weight of their armor. General Malgrath stood unmoving in the center of the tent, his massive maul resting casually at his side. His green-flame eyes followed the group with lazy indifference.

"You think your city will stand while you waste your time here?" Malgrath's voice was low and reverberating, full of cold menace. "The living are already burning."

Xander's heart pounded, but he forced himself to focus. He couldn't let Malgrath's words get to him. He knew the defenses were already under attack, but right now, they had to stay on task.

"Kane, take the one on the left," Xander ordered. "Wyatt, you're on the right. Jo, Zoey! Flank them and go for weak points. Ford, stay ready to heal."

They moved into position without hesitation. Kane raised his shield and charged the left knight, his armor clanging against the skeletal figure with a metallic thud. The knight's sword came down with a crushing blow, but Kane blocked it with his shield, deflecting the strike. Beside him, Harvey grinned, his war hammer already in motion, swinging toward the second knight with a bone-cracking impact.

"Piss off!" Harvey grunted, his war hammer slamming into the knight's torso, sending bits of rusted metal flying.

Xander didn't hesitate. He moved in alongside Kane, his spear flashing forward with precision. The tip of his weapon found a gap in the knight's armor, stabbing deep into the rotting bones beneath. The skeletal knight staggered, but it wasn't down yet.

Behind him, Zoey let loose an arrow, the frost-infused projectile slicing through the air. It struck the other knight's helm, ice spreading across the metal as it crackled under the cold. The knight faltered, its movements slowing as the frost bit into its joints.

"Nice shot," Jo called, darting forward with her sword flashing in a blur of motion as electricity arced up and down its length. Her blade found the weak spots in the knight's armor, slicing through bone with surgical precision.

"Stay focused," Xander growled, thrusting his spear again. The second knight crumbled under their assault, its bones collapsing into a heap of dust and shattered armor. But there was no time to breathe. The first knight, still standing, swung wildly at Wyatt, the rusted sword scraping across his shield.

"I've got this one!" Wyatt shouted, bracing himself against the next strike.

Malgrath's laughter echoed through the tent, cold and mocking. "You're nothing more than pests. Your defenses fall even now."

"Shut him up already," Zoey muttered, nocking another arrow and firing it into the knight Wyatt was facing.

The arrow struck the knight's knee joint, freezing the bone and slowing its movements even further. With a loud crash, Wyatt bashed his shield into the knight's chest, forcing it back. Jo leaped forward, her blade flashing in a deadly arc, slicing through the remaining joints that held the knight together. With a final, echoing groan, the skeletal knight crumbled into dust.

The room fell into a momentary silence, the only sound being the clattering of bones and rusted metal hitting the ground. Xander quickly scanned the tent, his breath coming fast, but his mind was already racing ahead.

"We need to move," Xander said, his voice hard. "Malgrath's right. The siege has already started. We're out of time."

The system message still burned in the back of his mind. The early wave of undead would be crashing against Starlight's defenses, and they were nowhere near finishing this mission.

He turned to the group, their faces lined with sweat and tension but ready. Ford looked pale, his hand gripping his mace tightly, while Kane wiped the sweat hands and adjusted his shield. Jo and Zoey stood side by side, breathing hard, but poised for the next move.

In the center of the room, General Malgrath remained still, his gaze unyielding. Its maul crackling with faint green energy. The general hadn't moved, but Xander knew that wouldn't last long.

"There's still time to turn back, mortals," Malgrath taunted, his voice a sinister rasp. "But if you continue forward… I'll ensure your deaths are slow."

Xander clenched his teeth. "We're not leaving without finishing this."

They dispatched the skeletal knights quickly, but a towering mass of death and malevolence presented the real challenge. They had survived the first test, but the clock was ticking, and the siege had already begun.

Malgrath hadn't moved yet. His maul crackled with green fire, and the tent itself seemed to pulse with power.

Xander looked at his team, their faces drawn tight with readiness, then back to the towering undead general.

"No more waiting," he said. "We kill the general or we die trying."

Malgrath gave a diabolical laugh, and the tent lit up with fire.

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