There was a special reason why people preferred not to come to the Valley of the Forgotten, one even more dangerous than disturbing creatures who had adapted to the fog.
Due to the fact that outside the kingdom was a place where light couldn't touch, they were able to use watches. And every night, something dangerous happens.
Harley flinched, looking at the creatures rising up from the ground.
At first, it was subtle—like the ground exhaling. Then the soil began to split.
Fingers pushed through the cracked ground. Pale, dirt-caked hands clawed upward with slow, patient certainty. Then arms. Then shoulders. Then hollow faces that seemed mostly human.
No, they seemed like humans, but instead of eyes, a sickening green light floated within their eye sockets.
"They're even more terrifying in person," Gregory spoke, looking below.
He had only read about the undead in the 'Ancient script' that Harley forged, so he never knew about the undead.
