Darion watched the graves get unearthed.
Normally, watching dead bodies being dug out of the ground should have been uncomfortable for him. Disturbing, even.
When he first awakened the Necromancer class, he had somewhat been bothered by this, was this what he would be doing? The sight of a single corpse would have been enough to make him look away.
But now? Now it was just work. He had seen too much death, caused too much death, raised too many dead for this to bother him anymore. He had gotten used to it.
The shovels rose and fell. The pile of dirt beside each grave grew larger. The undead worked in silence, their movements efficient, their hollow eyes fixed on the task.
Since he was digging at this massive scale, trying to unearth about 130 graves, not all of them would be perfect. That was just reality.
