The Wraith King groaned. He and his men stood hidden in the trees, sizing up their target, drawing strategies out in the dirt. A fort stood, made of stone and mortar, overlooking the valley. Archers posted in between crenulations. Warriors, each heavily armored and armed, patrolled outside. Above the gate was a royal crest, a skull of… something. Underneath were five letters: Noxus. Ostarion had taken far more impressive forts in his conquests, but now his numbers were far less than an army. The fortress was clearly capable of defending itself, judging by the number of corpses laying at its front door.

But where they failed before, they shall succeed… under my command. Or at least, that was the plan. But without siege equipment, there would be no easy way to break open the walls. Plus, the Wraith King had plans for that fort, and rebuilding it from rubble wasn't among them. Trying to starve out the fort could take weeks. Weeks in which reinforcements could arrive, and probably would arrive, in response to what clearly had been a series of recent attacks. Weeks the Wraith King couldn't afford.

"We could attack from there, but then we'd be picked apart from those archers there… argh!"

"I think… yes, I have an idea," Azorszos walked up to the makeshift map. "Why not just call on the spirits of the dead to fight for you?"

Ostarion pressed his palm into his forehead. "Have you been paying attention at all? We've agreed on that for some time now."

"Well, yes, but that wasn't what I was talking about."

"Oh? Enlighten me, then."

Commander Jered Moth was having a good day. The Demacian dogs had been throwing themselves against the walls the last few days, to no avail. They had just gotten a new shipment of supplies, and someone had persuaded the higher-ups to send some real food this time. News had arrived that reinforcements would be arriving to finally push the Demacians from their little camp for good. Yes, Jered Moth was having a good day.

It's almost a shame that they haven't broken through yet… haven't had the chance to bloody my spear at all.

"What… What's going on out there?"

Turning to see the commotion, Jered was greeted with the sight of the dead Demacian soldiers rising once more, their bodies replaced with a green glow. Every single man that Noxus had killed in front of this fort now stood once more, dull vengeance in their eyes.

What? Demacia is too "honorable" to practice necromancy… or whatever this is.

"No matter. We killed them once, we'll kill them again. Open fire!"

The Noxian archers notched, aimed, and fired. Every arrow found its mark. Every mark failed to flinch.

"Those things aren't human, sir!"

"I don't care! Why don't you go down there and tell us more about them?" Jered sneered, nearly pushing the whiner off with his spear. "They'll die all the same. Fire again!"

King Ostarion was having a bad day. No wonder they had failed to take the fort while they were alive – these archers had awful aim. Even unable to feel the pain of being stuck with arrows, they had still failed to kill even a single one of their garrisoned foes.

At least the swordsmen have finished off the outer guard. But no matter how many we kill outside, we're not getting in. I didn't want to have to show myself just yet, but it seems I have little choice. He beckoned to his men.

"And so, the wraith war begins…"

"Come on, men! We were slaughtering the dogs earlier! What's the matter now?"

"They just won't die, sir!"

Though he wouldn't dare show it to his soldiers, Jered was getting concerned. They were right: it was taking far more arrows to kill one resurrected soldier than it should have taken to kill several mortal men. It didn't help that they were being sieged by the summation of several failed attempts at once, with a constant stream of arrows flying at the fort. His men outside the gates had since been overrun, and now the gate itself was taking blows from blades of steel.

"If one of them can die, they can all die, and they will all die. We will see to that."

Suddenly, a figure, green like the rest of them, strode out onto the battlefield. Behind him were several more soldiers, their armor unlike anything Jered had seen from Demacia. The figure, presumably their leader, bellowed.

"By the decree of the only king that matters, this fort is now under the jurisdiction of the Empire of Wraith!"

Wraiths? Guess that's what those are.

"And I'm the princess of Zaun!" Jered grinned. "Doesn't matter. You'll die anyway. All archers, concentrate fire on him!"

Cut off the head, and the snake dies. Simple.

Unfazed by the incoming arrows, Ostarion hurled a blast of wraithfire at one of the crenulations. Their archers' aim proved true. He didn't care. His aim proved true. The crenulation shattered. He smiled. He had a feeling they weren't. With each blast, their archers had fewer and fewer places to hide. His archers were finally landing more and more arrows. He grinned. His men were still stuck outside… but the newly deceased weren't.

Nothing like a little in-fighting to ruin their day. I suppose the mage has some uses after all.

With a roar, Ostarion beckoned to his fallen foes, now his risen minions.

I wanted the chance to bloody my spear. Looks like I got it.

Bloody perhaps wasn't the right word, since the wraiths didn't seem to bleed. Nevertheless, Jered had put an end to more enemies in this battle than he could remember ever. Arrows narrowly whizzed past his head. A risen traitor pointed his bow at him. Rolling underneath the barrage, Jered stuck the wraith in the gut, and threw him off the wall.

Even if we win, I've lost far too many men today. Those reinforcements can't come soon enough.

Thankfully, it seemed that the wraiths fell much more quickly to swords and spears, and a few extra men up top was helping keep the number of risen foes down. But now they had to fight enemies from outside and within, as loyal Noxian soldiers now fought their fallen comrades. Suddenly, Jered had a terrible thought.

"Don't let them take the gatehouse! If they do, the fort is lost! Noxus will not fail today!" He could not let that happen. Jared ran. An archer tried to stab him with an arrow. He batted him aside. A swordsman blocked his way. He vaulted over him. But even as he threw wraiths from the gate's controls, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was going to have a very bad day.

I will confess, I did not expect a reaction as large as this one. It may be relatively meager compared to larger stories, but I thank you for your support nonetheless.