Bab 247: The Master of Puppets

"Ah, so you do know," Harpie's voice carried a mocking satisfaction, his smile both theatrical and chilling. "That's good, that's good."

The undead form of Barnie shifted restlessly, his undead eyes fixed on Damien, a mix of recognition and hostility burning within them. His cold, lifeless hands twitched, as if yearning to carry out an order.

But Harpie's voice intervened like a sinister conductor, halting the puppet's macabre dance. "Nah, nah, nah! Not now, my dear... Mhmmmm... What's this? Lingering grudges against him... Oh, intriguing! You bear a weight of resentment toward him... Interesting indeed..." Harpie's eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed on the undead before him. And in a bizarre twist, as he spoke to them, it was as though the dead understood his every word.