Whoosh!
A powerful surge of undead energy flared around Thoren, rippling outward like a dark tidal wave. Before anyone could comprehend what was happening, figures began to materialize across the frozen plain.
Undead servants.
Undead beasts.
They appeared in clusters at first, dozens forming in tight ranks but their numbers increased rapidly.
Hundreds.
Then thousands.
Massive undead beasts lifted their heads and roared toward the sky, their thunderous cries shaking the air as they declared their presence.
The sheer scale of the summoning sent a cold shiver down the spines of all who witnessed it.
Fenric’s heart skipped violently in his chest. His jaw fell slack as disbelief washed over him.
"How... how is this possible?" he whispered, his voice trembling.
When he compared his own skeletal army to what now stood before him, he felt a crushing sense of defeat.
His summons, which had once filled him with pride, now seed pitiful and insignificant.
He could sense the imnse auras radiating from Thoren’s undead. He did not even attempt to count how many high-level undead were among them.
The pressure alone told him enough.
Fear clamped around his heart like an iron vice.
The few remaining mbers of the Slave Trade Guild cowered, their earlier confidence evaporating entirely.
They had believed that no one could rival Fenric in the field of necromancy.
Now, their understanding of the world was being shattered before their eyes.
Compared to Thoren’s army, Fenric’s undead summons seed like a child’s crude imitation, an amateur still fumbling through the basics of the craft.
Standing on the Undead Iron Roar Komodo, the three mbers of the Knight Order inhaled sharply.
They had thought they had begun to understand the extent of Thoren’s strength.
They had been wrong.
They had never truly grasped it at all.
As for Thoren, he paid no attention to the shock and fear around him. His gaze remained steady, his expression calm.
"Now is the ti to end this farce," he said evenly.
"Kill."
The command echoed through the bond he shared with his army.
Howl! Roar!
The two undead forces surged toward one another.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The battlefield erupted into chaos.
Yet to those watching, it did not resemble a battle.
It was a one-sided slaughter.
Skulls were crushed beneath overwhelming force.
Crude bone weapons shattered into fragnts.
Wherever Thoren’s undead army advanced, they left devastation in their wake.
Undead were typically feared for their immunity to pain and their relentless, fearless assaults.
But now, watching Fenric’s skeletons being annihilated so effortlessly shattered their world view.
In less than a minute, Fenric’s skeletal horde was wiped out entirely.
"Nooooo!" Fenric scread, veins bulging across his forehead.
He teetered on the brink of madness.
"I can’t accept this!"
"I won’t accept this!"
His face twisted with deranged fury, as though he had reached a final, irreversible decision.
Without hesitation, he slashed open his own chest. Blood poured freely from the wound, but he appeared oblivious to the pain.
With trembling hands, he used his blood to draw an inverted cross over his chest and scread toward the heavens.
"I sacrifice my soul and my people to you! I beg you, send your strongest warrior to kill this blaspher!"
"He dares to look down on you! Today, let him witness the true might of your power!"
His voice tore through the air like a desperate howl.
The mont his declaration ended, the remaining mbers of the Slave Trade Guild clutched their heads and scread in agony.
Blood stread from their eyes, ears, noses, and mouths.
Within seconds, their bodies withered and collapsed into nothingness, vanishing completely.
Fenric himself fared little better. His flesh shrank against his bones, and his face beca as pale as parchnt.
Still, he gritted his teeth, his bloodshot eyes burning with unrestrained hatred.
Howl!
From within the fissure, sothing massive began to erge.
A colossal skeleton stepped onto the frozen plain, towering over three ters in height. In its bony hands, it wielded a massive, spiked club.
Its presence radiated raw, oppressive power.
Roar!
Thoren studied the enormous skeleton carefully. His brow furrowed for a brief mont before his expression relaxed once more.
This must be his final trump card, he thought.
From Fenric’s actions, Thoren had realized that although they both practiced necromancy, their paths were fundantally different.
Thoren focused on raising and commanding the dead, forging them into loyal undead servants.
Fenric, on the other hand, relied heavily on soul sacrifices to gain power.
The soul was a dangerous, double-edged blade.
It could grant trendous strength in a short ti, but it consud the wielder in return.
At first, the loss would be subtle, diminished empathy, fading fear, eroding restraint.
Gradually, the individual would lose touch with humanity altogether, becoming a slave to obsession and desire.
Such a person would stop at nothing to achieve their goals.
To them, the loss of their own life or the lives of those close to them would an nothing.
They would already be consud by their darkest impulses.
Fenric had clearly reached that point.
His hatred for Thoren had eclipsed all reason. He no longer cared about the cost of his actions.
As long as he could take revenge, everything would be worth it.
That was the only thought driving him forward.
Thoren calmly withdrew the majority of his undead army, leaving only three Level 18 undead on the battlefield.
The Undead Royalty Stonewall.
The Undead War Tide Lion.
And the Undead King Kong Ape.
The Royalty Stonewall and the War Tide Lion charged toward the towering skeleton.
However, Thoren adjusted his strategy slightly. Instead of allowing the Royalty Stonewall to lead the assault, he directed the War Tide Lion to take the vanguard, while the Stonewall would provide support from the flank.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The two sides collided with earth-shattering force. The deafening clash reverberated across the frozen plain.
Deep fissures spread outward beneath their feet. Ice shards shot into the air like deadly shrapnel.
The massive skeleton swung its colossal club downward, striking the Undead War Tide Lion with overwhelming strength.
The undead lion was sent flying, crashing violently into the ice in the distance.
From the side, the Undead Royalty Stonewall closed in and swung its blade in a deadly arc.
Roar!
The gigantic skeleton emitted a guttural sound and swept its club sideways. The sheer force of the swing distorted the air, creating visible shockwaves.
No living creature would dare confront such a terrifying blow head-on except an undead servant.
Boom!
At that very mont, a trendous, bestial punch slamd into the massive skeleton from behind.
The Undead King Kong Ape joined the fray.
The colossal skeleton staggered forward, its attack missing its intended target.
The undead King Kong Ape roared ferociously, its hollow eye sockets blazing with savage battle intent.
Fenric bit down hard on his lip as he watched the scene unfold, drawing blood once more.
Hatred and fury burned fiercely in his heart.
How can he control so many powerful undead simultaneously?
It was a question he could not answer.
Jealousy twisted his features.
Why don’t I possess such power?
Why?
While Fenric was consud by rage and envy, the battlefield shifted yet again.
The three undead surrounded the colossal skeleton, preparing to strike in unison when suddenly, the ground beneath them trembled violently.
Everyone on the frozen plain froze in confusion.
What is happening now?
The tremors intensified. The ice fractured and shattered in all directions.
From the distant horizon, sothing massive was rushing toward them at incredible speed.
"What... what is that?" one of the Knight Order mbers asked in a low, trembling voice.
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