He woke up early and didn't eat, didn't bathe and didn't do any of the morning routine.
He pulled on clothes, took the saddlebag, and went straight to the graveyard.
Five empty slots in the knight inventory. He had been carrying them unfilled for days, too tired and too focused on other things to do anything about it. Today he was filling them before he rode out to Valdenmoor.
He didn't want to dig this time. Normally that would have discouraged him coming here, the thought of doing all those hard work definitely would.
But then, he had undead knights to do it for him.
And so, he summoned four undead instead, to work.
The strongest knight in his inventory was the one he had found in the back room of the farmhouse building, sitting in the chair in the rusted armor, dead for decades.
Strength fifty, endurance fifty, the measurements of a large and well-built man, and those numbers had translated into a revived undead that was visibly different from the others.
