As expected, the miasma grew thicker the closer I got to the palace, swirling around me like a living, breathing entity. The air felt dense, heavy, like it had a weight to it that threatened to pull me down with every step I took. My aura, bright and divine, pushed back against the encroaching darkness, and I could feel the miasma's frustration, almost as if it were a living thing trying to find a way to breach my defenses.
But it couldn't. Not with my [Divine Aura] flaring around me like an impenetrable shield.
Realizing it couldn't affect me directly, the miasma shifted, twisting in on itself until it began to take shape. Shadow prowlers—dark, sleek creatures that slithered across the ground like serpents—formed first, their yellow eyes gleaming with malevolent intent. Next came the arcane horrors, misshapen and grotesque, with jagged limbs that seemed to bend in unnatural ways. Soul drinkers floated above them, ethereal and haunting, while soul devourers—massive, hulking figures with gaping maws—lurched forward, their hungry gazes locked onto me.
I didn't hesitate.
Focusing my divine energy, I raised my hand, feeling the power surge through me, gathering at my fingertips like a flood waiting to be unleashed. The moment the dark spawns surged forward, I unleashed it. A brilliant ray of pure holy light erupted from my palm, slicing through the air like a blade. It crashed into the dark spawns, instantly disintegrating them on contact. The force of it was like a tidal wave, sweeping across the area and reducing everything in its path to ash.
But no matter how many I destroyed, more rose from the miasma.
It was relentless. The deeper I pressed into the capital, the thicker the miasma became. It had a will of its own, spawning creatures faster than I could obliterate them. They swarmed me in droves, an endless tide of darkness, trying to halt my advance. But every time they drew near, I would simply crush them underfoot or tear through them with divine-infused punches. Each impact sent shockwaves through the air, the ground cracking beneath me as I bulldozed my way forward.
"Seems like no matter what grand magic I throw at them, they'll just respawn," I muttered under my breath, smashing an arcane horror to pieces with a single strike. "Since the power here is conflicting, there's no point wasting my time."
I charged headfirst into the fray, not bothering with spells or holy incantations anymore. My fists became my weapons, each punch delivering a surge of divine energy that tore through the dark spawns like paper. The soul drinkers screeched as I slammed my fist into them, their ethereal bodies evaporating on contact. The soul devourers tried to flank me, but I spun around, driving my knee into the chest of one while backhanding another with enough force to send it flying.
The ground shook beneath me as I advanced, my eyes locked on the palace door ahead. The closer I got, the more determined the miasma became, forming larger and more grotesque monstrosities in a desperate attempt to stop me. But it was useless. I tore through them with sheer brute force, carving a path of destruction straight to the palace. Each creature that dared to stand in my way was either obliterated by a punch or kicked aside like a ragdoll.
There was no finesse in my movements—just raw power. I didn't have time to play around, not with this constant respawning. If they wanted to overwhelm me with numbers, I'd overwhelm them with brute strength.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of tearing through the miasma's endless army, I reached the palace doors. I stopped just before them, taking a moment to catch my breath, my gaze lifting to take in the structure before me.
The palace itself was magnificent, even in its decay. It was like something out of an ancient myth, a mixture of Greek temple design and medieval fortifications. Massive pillars, once white but now stained with age and darkness, lined the entrance, each one etched with intricate carvings of forgotten gods and heroes. The roof, domed and grand, rose high above me, supported by arches that seemed to stretch towards the heavens. Vines, twisted and blackened by the miasma, crawled up the walls, giving the entire structure a sense of eerie desolation. Yet, even with its ancient, weathered appearance, the palace still held an air of majesty, as though it had once been the seat of power for something far greater than the current world could comprehend.
"The miasma won't let me enter this place easily, huh?"
As if in response to my words, the air around the palace seemed to thicken, the miasma swirling violently. I could feel the shift in energy, like the very essence of the palace was rejecting me, trying to force me back. That's when I saw it.
A figure emerged from the swirling darkness before the palace doors, stepping forward with slow, deliberate movements. It was tall, draped in tattered robes that seemed to cling to its skeletal frame, and its face—or what remained of it—was obscured by the hood it wore. Its eyes glowed faintly, like dim embers flickering in the darkness. Its hands, bony and twisted, clutched a staff that radiated an ancient, sinister energy.
"A human…" it said, its voice a rasping whisper that seemed to echo through the air. "It's been a while since I last saw one."
The creature's aura was overwhelming, a heavy, oppressive weight that pressed down on me like a suffocating blanket. I recognized it immediately—this was no ordinary undead.
It was a Lich.
And not just any Lich.
The 「No Life King」.
Its presence was enough to send a shiver down my spine, not from fear, but from the sheer force of the power radiating from it. This thing wasn't just some random undead minion. This was a creature that had ruled over death itself for centuries, perhaps even millennia. Its skeletal fingers tightened around its staff, and the miasma around us seemed to thicken even more in response.
This wouldn't be easy.
I cracked my knuckles, my divine aura flaring up in response to the Lich's oppressive power. "Looks like this just got interesting."
The Lich's hollow eyes locked onto mine, and for the first time in what felt like ages, I felt a thrill course through my veins.
It was time to fight.