[A Couple of Minutes Earlier]
Inside the King's palace, the King was obliterating everything in his path with pure dominance and destruction.
Hundreds upon hundreds of undead soldiers fell beneath his crushing fists.
Consumed by rage and hatred, he moved like a walking juggernaut, tearing through the undead swarm with ease.
His plan was simple.
If he could not find the human Necromancer behind the undead, he would make sure to destroy every undead soldier without leaving a single survivor.
With his strength and power, he firmly believed he could accomplish this.
Perhaps, this was the pride that befitted a King.
Or perhaps, it was the arrogance that came from standing at the top of the pyramid for so long that he had forgotten what it meant to struggle.
To fight without losing himself.
To fight without losing what was precious to him.
To fight without forgetting the reason he was fighting in the first place.
