Rowena shivered violently.
Her breath hitched in her throat, and every strand of hair on her body stood on end as if electrified.
A suffocating pressure pressed down on her chest, making it difficult to breathe.
She had only ever felt something like this once before.
When she had faced Thoren.
But there was a crucial difference.
Thoren's presence had been overwhelming, crushing even, but it had never been corrupt.
Standing before him made others feel insignificant, like dust beneath a vast sky, yet his aura was strangely pure.
There was no malice in it.
No rot.
No taint.
What stood before her now was something else entirely.
Rowena's stomach churned violently.
Her nose twitched as an acrid sensation crawled up her throat, and she fought the overwhelming urge to retch.
She pressed her lips together tightly, forcing the nausea down with sheer will.
The undead energy seeping from the guard's body was thick, oppressive.
