The last Corpse Golem towers above the battlefield like a nightmare given flesh and steel.
It's the biggest of the three.
Its bloated frame groans with every step—stitched together from hundreds of rotting corpses, fused into a grotesque giant of death. In its massive hands, it grips a crude, jagged greatsword made entirely of fused bones—longer than most towers and thick as a city gate.
It howls.
Then—
WHAM!!!
The giant swings its bone blade downward.
The ground erupts, carved into a deep gash that stretches halfway across the ruined academy. Stone splits. Dust explodes. Debris flies in every direction.
That power is terrifying. Each blow could crush a small army.
But—
None of it matters…
If the attacks don't land.
Felicia doesn't even blink.
She dances between the golem's swings—fluid, untouchable. Her petite frame weaves between collapsing ruins and flying rubble like a wisp of shadow.
