Translated by: Novellise
Half an hour later.
The Skeleton Legion suffered heavy losses, with more than half of the Skeleton Warriors becoming cannon fodder.
In the face of such intense fighting.
Norton himself was exhausted, his spirits low.
Yet.
He kept his focus on the Frostbone Dragon.
For in his eyes.
Of all the monsters present.
Only this sixth-level Frostbone Dragon posed a deadly threat to him!
"Skeleton Tyrant, have I done you any harm? Do you really have to destroy me completely?"
Norton looked at the figure standing on the Frostbone Dragon's back, feeling indignant and confused.
He was living well in the Vulture Territory, so why did disaster suddenly strike him?
But his question was answered.
The Skeleton Tyrant's answer.
Simple and direct.
Just one word.
Kill!
Seeing the Skeletal Tyrant's unyielding stance.
Norton gritted his teeth in frustration, wanting to just walk over and slap him.
In his heart, he made a secret vow.
After he survived this life and death crisis.
He would grind the skeleton of the Skeleton Tyrant to ashes and imprison its soul in the depths of Hell.
Every day, he would use Hellfire to burn its soul, never allowing it to be released for eternity!
One hour later.
Faced with the relentless attacks of the Skeleton Legion.
Norton was exhausted and at his limit.
Not only had he used up all his energy potions and magic scrolls.
But due to the frequent use of mental power.
Norton's head felt heavy, as if it were about to burst.
Even the summoned undead servants began to dissolve into the air one by one.
It was that moment.
The skeletal tyrant leapt down from the dragon's back, leading the remaining skeleton warriors in another charge.
The frostbane dragon in the air breathed out another great frosty breath.
This dragon had been dormant in the Skeleton Wasteland for hundreds of years.
Its entire skeleton, including its soul, had been completely transformed by the aura of death.
And this Frost Breath attack.
Not only was it incredibly powerful, but it also had a strong stench of death attached to it.
Even a sixth class mage would not dare to face it directly.
Once hit, it would be either death or injury.
Morton's face turned pale.
For the first time since the battle began, he felt a strong sense of life and death crisis.
Despair.
He spared no expense in overdrawing his own life energy and mental power, and once again unleashed two dark magics.
Fifth Rank Fire Magic - Hellfire!
[Fifth-Rank Wind Magic - Storm Tornado]!
"Boom!"
The black flames mixed with the storm tornado, their power surging once again.
Under the searing flames.
The Frost Breath evaporated into a white mist.
And the hellfire continued unabated, enveloping the Frostbone Dragon directly.
"Bang!"
The Frostbone Dragon fell from the sky like a mountain giant, crashing heavily to the ground and crushing hundreds of Skeleton Warriors into powder.
But the black flames on its surface did not dissipate, they intensified!
This hellfire could ignite any substance.
The dragon's wings, its body, and even the Frostbone Dragon's soul.
At that moment, everything turned into fuel for the flames!
Pain!
Too much pain!
The agony of being burned in the soul was a hundred times more painful than the most inhumane torture.
The Frostbone Dragon struggled and roared, uttering pitiful cries.
Its massive body rolled on the ground, crushing many of the skeleton warriors.
Lurin stood in the middle of the skeleton army.
He watched calmly, but felt pain in his heart.
Wounded, pain in my heart!
This was the Legion of Disaster he had spent half a year painstakingly assembling!
And yet, in less than half a day, he had lost two-thirds of his forces!
One could only say.
Dark magic was considered taboo by the great empires for a reason.
The power of this dark magic from hell was simply too terrifying.
Lurin took a deep breath and suppressed the impulse to act.
Wait a little longer.
Now was not the best time to strike!
And so.
Lurin could only watch as the Frostbone Dragon writhed and struggled on the ground.
Under the burning hellfire.
Its howls grew fainter and fainter.
Until Norton's magical power was exhausted, unable to withstand such powerful dark magic.
The black flames gradually died out.
The Frostbone Dragon lay on the ground, barely alive, most of its body burned to ashes.
Even the blood-red soulfire in its head became extremely dim.
Like a candle in the wind, it could be snuffed out at any moment.
On the other side.
The Skeletal Tyrant's attack was once again repelled by the Storm Tornado.
Morton felt relieved, finally breathing a sigh of relief.
But the next moment.
He suddenly felt a cold sensation behind him.
Only to see, at some point.
A normal skeletal warrior with a long sword suddenly appeared behind Morton.
The icy blade of the sword emitted a cold aura as it pierced Morton's heart!
Blood flowed along the blade.
Before it could fall to the ground, it solidified into frost.
Morton stood dazed, his eyes filled with disbelief.
He had been cautious in every way but one.
He had never expected the Skeleton Army to still have a Sixth Rank hiding among them!
Which was even more frustrating for him.
Until his last moments.
He had not even seen Lurin's face clearly.
Of course he had.
Even if he had seen it, he wouldn't have recognised him.
At least on the outside.
The mastermind behind all this appeared to be just a weak, pitiful and helpless ordinary skeleton warrior.
Lurin struck a decisive blow, relieved at last.
Even though Morton was only a fifth rank dark sorcerer, the power of the dark magic was truly terrifying.
If this continued.
Probably the Frostbone Dragon he had just defeated and eighty percent of the Skeleton Warriors would have perished here.
Fortunately, it had been hidden within the Skeleton Army, deliberately feigning weakness.
At the cost of seriously injuring the Frostbone Dragon, he finally found an opportunity to strike!
Most importantly.
As a Dark Alchemist, Morton was not skilled in combat.
He was immersed in alchemy and potion making all year round, with almost no awareness of combat.
This made Lurin think.
A fifth level dark alchemist who was not good at combat had managed to destroy half of his skeleton legion.
What would happen if he met a high-ranking Dark Mage with a lot of combat experience?
Until then.
Forget about using human wave tactics, he would probably be destroyed in an instant!
Become stronger!
He must become stronger as soon as possible!
Lurin was well aware of that.
Compared to the dark magic that destroyed everything, he was nothing but a small pawn.
[You have killed a fifth-level dark alchemist and successfully obtained a fifth-level servant!]
Lurin pulled the Frost Sword from Morton's chest.
Then.
The Hexagram Magic Array appeared, enveloping Morton's body.
After a few seconds.
Morton, who had been staring at death, regained a gleam in his eyes.
"Your servant Morton pays his respects to the master."
Morton knelt on one knee, his voice hoarse.
This scene also left Lurin somewhat amazed at the miraculous effect of the Plague of the Undead.
A moment ago.
He and Morton fighting to the death, mortal enemies who couldn't compromise.
The next moment.
Morton had become his subordinate, a loyal servant who would never betray him.
Not to mention something as small as a sneak attack.
Lurin felt.
Even if Morton cut himself into pieces and fried them, he probably wouldn't hesitate.
"Crack!"
But just as Norton was being transformed into an undead servant.
Suddenly there was a sound of cracking bones.
Several cracks reappeared on Lurin's skull.
His vision darkened, he felt a strong dizziness and almost fell to the ground.
At that moment, his head felt like an inflated balloon, ready to burst at any moment!
(End of chapter)