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When the damned armies fell, silence did not follow. From beneath their bodies poured a thick, putrid green fog, and the earth beneath them hissed as if awakening in pain. The dead grass blackened, curled, and from the cracks crawled roots — like hands reaching toward the sky. With a rasp that froze the blood, the souls of the warriors tore free — grim, glowing with the sickly light of decay and r…