Grimm B4C13

Ha, a novel wish. I have not heard the like before. Very well, I shall grant it. You, Tyrian Callows, now belong to me. Your life is mine. Your soul is mine. Your very being is mine." Her eyes roamed over the other men and women in the temple. "The others, however… I cannot change what I am. I am Salem, Queen of the Grimm. You are my Hero, but they cannot be."

She snapped her fingers in the air.

My eyes clenched shut as bodies slumped to the ground all around us. When I cracked them open again I saw that Pyrrha and Ruby were unharmed, but of the villagers and Heroes not a single one remained standing.

Tyrian looked horrified. "M-My Queen…? You… killed them?"

"Look again, Tyrian," Salem crooned. "I told you that I am a Queen of Grimm."

The bodies began to shake and convulse. Black smoke pooled from their noses, mouths and eyes to rise and float above each one, and soon we were surrounded by black ghost-like Grimm with bone ribcages. They hovered in the air before Tyrian and Salem like some silent congregation.

"Grimm…" Tyrian breathed. "You turned them into Grimm."

[...]

The Paragon paused. "But… but we will need an army."

"It stands before you," Salem said. She waved a hand once more and the ghost-like Grimm rushed to the discarded rocks and boulders assorted about the temple. They creaked and groaned their way to life, rising as golems with glowing red eyes. As one, they moved back to stand before Tyrian, utterly ignoring Ruby, Pyrrha and I defeated and slumped in front of them. "Will this suffice, Tyrian? I can create more as you wish, but it will naturally require me to have more… material to work with. I'm sure there are far more above ground who would like to be liberated from their mortal shells."