Their General is furious.
She damned me all the while slicing through my Zombies and deftly fending off the persistent assault of my Ghouls. Being their general or commander and whatnot, she is rightfully displeased by my unrelenting ambush, about now most of her minions were mine now.
Perhaps raising an undead army for an all-out war is improbable, but attacking me in groups of weaklings only gives me the means to overwhelm and kill my opponent. This is the weakness my strength has exploited in my enemy.
Something I noticed during the fight or rather, my stroll through the undoing chaos; it's very apparent that our intel on the numbers we were going to face in the camps was botched, likely because of the scout's incompetence or outright negligence.
But unlike the last camp as well, this camp did not have the overwhelming numbers of the its counter-part through at us.