Episode 145: The Legion (2)
The oppressive aura from dozens of mid-tier skeletons was enough to send shivers down anyone’s spine.
“Impressive, but…”
Yet, Gasdal was a grand necromancer. His pride wouldn’t allow him to be overwhelmed by such a display.
“You still can’t surpass me!”
Though the enemy’s forces were formidable, Gasdal wasn’t at a disadvantage. In battles between the undead, the prowess of a necromancer was crucial.
However, Damian had imposed restrictions on himself, sealing away his dark magic. This meant the skeletons had to rely solely on their own strength.
Gasdal, on the other hand, could wield any dark magic he desired.
“I’ll show you what I’m truly capable of.”
Gathering all his dark energy, Gasdal unleashed a barrage of spells. He enhanced the skeletons’ durability with ‘Composite Bone,’ boosted their abilities with ‘Malicious Surge,’ and sent them into a frenzy with ‘Phantom Rush.’ With each layer of dark magic, the red skeletons’ eyes glowed more intensely.
“Crush them!”
At Gasdal’s command, the red skeletons charged. Red clashed with white, but it was the red that was shattered.
“What…?”
Every swing of the white skeletons’ weapons obliterated the red ones. There was no battle, no resistance—just a massacre.
“This can’t be happening!”
Desperately, Gasdal cast more spells to restore the broken skeletons and further enhance them. But it was futile. The red skeletons were helpless.
“How can there be such a disparity in power?”
Gasdal muttered in disbelief, but quickly regained his composure.
“Impossible! I haven’t shown all my cards yet!”
With a strike of his staff, more skeletons emerged from the shadows, clad in armor and exuding a more menacing aura than the first wave.
“If you bring mid-tier, then I’ll match you with the same!”
Gasdal extended his hand, and the second wave of red skeletons advanced, screaming battle cries as they swung their weapons.
And they were shattered.
Even the mid-tier red skeletons were no match. The white skeletons parried their attacks and crushed them, just like the low-tier ones.
”…”
In that moment, Gasdal realized his mistake. Not all mid-tier skeletons were equal. His red skeletons were merely at the entry level, while the white ones had reached their peak.
No matter what he tried, his forces couldn’t win.
“This is… impossible… How did I create them only to see them destroyed like this?”
Gasdal gritted his teeth, his eyes filled with venom.
“I never thought I’d have to resort to my last option here…”
He slammed his staff into the ground, and black smoke billowed from the shadows. From within emerged knights clad in tattered armor.
Death Knights.
Unlike ordinary undead, these were crafted from the souls of high-class knights Gasdal had painstakingly collected.
A true last resort.
“This time, I’ll crush you!”
At his command, the Death Knights charged at the skeletons. This time, the white skeletons struggled. The Death Knights’ weapons began to shatter them.
“Hahaha! Do you see now?”
Gasdal laughed triumphantly, but his joy was short-lived. The white skeletons soon blocked the Death Knights’ advance.
“Skeletons… stopping Death Knights?”
A thought flashed through Gasdal’s mind. Damian’s skeletons were a mix of soldiers and knights, all elevated to mid-tier. But what about those who were already mid-tier? What level had they reached?
“Could it be…”
Before he could finish his thought, the white skeletons began to push back the Death Knights. Despite being the same high-class, the difference in skill was stark. The Death Knights were quickly cut down by the white skeletons’ blades.
“What… what are you doing? How can Death Knights be losing to mere skeletons?”
Gasdal frantically cast spells to strengthen the Death Knights, using every means at his disposal to aid them. But the tide of battle didn’t change. The Death Knights were destroyed, unable to be easily restored like skeletons.
With the Death Knights gone, nothing stood in the way of the white skeletons. They began to drive out the red skeletons.
”…”
Gasdal watched in a daze as the white skeletons approached. His carefully crafted minions were being annihilated.
“Good thing I prepared this in advance.”
He snapped his fingers, and a glass chamber shattered, spilling green liquid onto the ground. The body of Adrian, suspended in the air, was revealed. His limbs had been replaced, and his face was half-covered with metal to hide the decay.
Once a great master-class warrior, now merely a puppet for Gasdal.
“I never thought I’d have to use this.”
Gasdal opened a spatial rift and retrieved something—a shard resembling a broken sword.
A fragment of Erebus.
He embedded it into Adrian’s chest. The power from the shard coursed through his body.
“Awaken, Adrian.”
At Gasdal’s command, Adrian’s eyes snapped open. They weren’t human eyes; they were entirely black with blood-red irises.
“Mom! I’ll make lots of money!”
Adrian’s first words were a jumble of memories.
“Don’t add too much water to the soup! Bugs, don’t hold the sword like that! An ancient golem? Run!”
Gasdal clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Rushed the activation, and his memories are scrambled.”
It didn’t matter. Adrian was ready for battle.
Gasdal pointed forward, his long, bony finger directing Adrian toward the white skeletons and Damian beyond them.
“See them? They’re your enemies. Destroy them.”
With a snap of his fingers, a massive sword materialized before Adrian. Not just any sword, but one reforged from a cursed spear for Adrian.
As Adrian grasped the sword, his aura exploded. The white skeletons were swept away by his presence. Those at the front were shattered, and those behind were flung back as if caught in a storm.
A dark aura enveloped the sword, forming a solid black blade.
An Aura Blade.
A weapon only a master-class knight could wield.
A true transcendent had entered the battlefield.
“So, he’s finally activated it.”
Damian watched Adrian from his throne, unfazed by the emergence of a master-class Death Knight.
“It’s laughable, really. A master-class without a true sense of self.”
To Damian, it wasn’t a true master-class. Just a hollow imitation.
Yet, even this shell was a threat. Its mere presence was enough to shatter skeletons.
“Dominico, are you ready?”
At Damian’s question, Dominico rose beside him. Unlike the others, Dominico retained his human appearance, though his skin was gray and exuded a deathly aura.
Dominico had become a Death Knight.
-…What just happened to me?
Confusion clouded Dominico’s face.
While the skeletons clashed with Gasdal’s henchmen, Dominico was facing a different ordeal.
He was experiencing something within his mental realm.
Something so vast and terrifying that even his considerable talents couldn’t fully comprehend it.
“Now’s not the time to dwell on that,” he muttered to himself.
Damian pointed towards the Death Knight that Gasdal had conjured.
“If we don’t take down that undead, we’re all doomed. You’ll have to handle it.”
Dominico’s face hardened as he looked at the Death Knight.
-So, it wasn’t about reviving my master, but using him like this.
“You’re not going to tell me you can’t fight because it’s your master’s body, are you?”
-Of course not. I only wish to grant him peace as soon as possible.
Dominico reached out into the air, drawing in dark energy around his hand.
-Is this how it’s done?
The gathered dark energy transformed into an aura, coalescing into a single form.
An aura blade took shape, forming a massive greatsword.