Everything was wrong.
The undead moved in a coordinated manner, far too coordinated for the taste of anyone sane enough.
Edgar was certain that the master necromancer was somehow controlling the undead from a distant location using some sort of object. Or a group of magic casters were doing the same.
He had known similar groups in the past.
From the pattern, he suspected which group of necromantic was behind all this. To his knowledge, there was only one group capable of organizing and executing such an operation. And among them, only the great masters have enough power and influence to accumulate so many undead.
Still, such a huge operation would take years, if not a decade, to plan and execute.
If his old group were here, everything would be fine. But only with his squire and the small group of soldiers hired by the nobleman, there was no chance of leaving without suffering loss.