Across the battlefield, Almond raised his other hand.
Golden threads of his own spread outward.
Wherever a Suryax soldier fell, threads converged. Where a Dreadling Monarch was torn apart, threads converged. Where a Spirit Lord overextended and was burned out, threads converged. Bodies reassembled. Forms returned. The allied force did not lose anyone for longer than a breath.
This was the asymmetry of his deck.
Velsenir had resurrected through a network of anchors that required maintenance, calibration, and external support. He had been a powerful resurrector, but a finite one.
Almond resurrected because he could.
There was no anchor network. There was no maintenance cost. There was no upper limit visible to anyone on the battlefield. The Grimblade and the Fabricated Spirits drew from something deeper than a fixed reservoir, and the reservoir had not yet shown a bottom.
