The zombie rats swarmed the Rat Lord in a frenzied assault, their rotting claws tearing at matted fur while yellowed fangs sought purchase in tough hide. But their numbers were dwindling alarmingly fast - from eighteen to sixteen, then twelve- each fallen comrade making the remaining undead seem more like gnats buzzing around a bear than legitimate threats. The massive creature barely flinched as their attacks landed, its [Rampage] ability transforming each drop of spilled blood into terrifying momentum. With every wound taken, its movements became more fluid, more precise, the cleaver in its paw blurred through the dank dungeon air with increasing lethality. And that was with only one of them in hand as the other was far away from the rat.
"Ludwig..." Thomas's voice crackled with static-like distortion. "You'll need to conserve your forces before-"
