How is this… possible?!
For a brief mont, the Winter Lord's mind was in utter chaos.
It wasn't the throbbing pain in his torso that froze him. No. It was the shock that one of his undead servants had actually assaulted him.
This undead zombie in the dented helt, it looked like an undead, slled like an undead, and even radiated the aura of an undead. Yet, why did it suddenly attack him? And why did it seem to take pleasure in it as well?
At the core of the School of Necromancy lay an absolute rule: summoned undead were bound by unwavering loyalty to their summoner.
Their will was overwritten by the Necromancer's command, their existence sustained solely to obey. They could not hesitate. They could not refuse. And they most certainly could not betray.
That was the very foundation of this deathly art.
Which made what had just happened utterly incomprehensible. An undead creature turning its blade on its own master wasn't just unexpected, it violated the most basic principles of necromancy itself.
Just as the Winter Lord was gazing at his undead zombie with incredulous eyes, the zombie drew back a fist, coated it with tyrannical mana, and viciously struck at him.
Sensing the familiar mana signature, the Winter Lord finally realized what had happened. His shock was quickly replaced with alertness. He activated yet another artifact, forming a barrier around him in just the nick of ti.
Bam!
The zombie's fist struck the barrier, shattered it on impact, then drove into the Winter Lord's jaw. Although the barrier had absorbed much of the force, what remained was still enough to send the Elder flying, blood spraying from his mouth as he was hurled into the distance.
Even as he was in the throes of pain, both from the stab wound and the sucker punch to the face, he still managed to command his undead army to surround the zombie in the dented helt and drown him in attacks.
The Winter Lord miserably bounced across the tundra before finally coming to a stop. With a ruthless expression on his pale face, he weaved a few simple hand seals and increased the intensity of the Snowstorm.
Only then did he take a mont to examine his injuries and think about what had just transpired.
The blow to his face was manageable, but it was the dagger wound that truly troubled him. He lowered his head, a grim look on his face. He brushed the injury with his fingers and found that, along with blood, there were traces of a purple liquid mixed in as well.
"Poison," he murmured with a dark look on his face.
He gnashed his teeth in frustration as he shifted his gaze to his undead army in the distance. They were getting killed again and again, all the while under the constant suppression of increased gravity in that area. And at the center of the chaos was none other than Adam.
How did he manage to get past my senses? The Winter Lord couldn't help but wonder in shock.
He completely shapeshifted into an undead! Even the stench and aura were extrely similar. More shockingly, he even altered his own mana signature and tricked .
A true master of the School of Alteration...
This is unheard of!
Suddenly, purple veins erged under his pale skin, and the next mont, the Winter Lord bent over and vomited a mouthful of blood.
His vision turned blurry as weakness took hold of him.
"D-Damn it," he spoke through gritted teeth. "This… poison…"
He quickly retrieved a few healing potions from his storage artifact and consud them one after another. A few monts later, he was finally able to keep the poison at bay. However, he had still not cured it.
The Elder rose to his feet, his legs trembling ever so slightly. He gazed in the direction of where his undead army was engaged in a brutal battle. Even his Rank 4 undead knight was present there.
Just what kind of poison did he use? He thought with a dark look on his face.
He had never co across one so potent. For now, he had only managed to temporarily take care of the venom. However, he feared that if he didn't deal with it soon, the consequences would be far more dire.
But first, he needed to kill the masked man, who had proven far more dangerous and a serious threat to his lord's vision for this world.
The Winter Lord's eyes narrowed.
He encased the dagger wound with frost. At the sa ti, he transford the area around it into ice, significantly reducing the speed at which the venom did damage to his body.
Then, he weaved a few more hand seals and, once again, increased the intensity of the Snowstorm.
This spell was not rely a blizzard ant to obscure vision or slow movent.
It conjured freezing winds and relentless snowfall that tore the battlefield, crushing visibility and numbing the body with biting cold. Every step beca heavier, every motion sluggish, as the storm resisted movent itself.
But that was only the surface effect. The true danger lay in what ca next.
The cold seeped past armor, past mana defenses, and into the body. Frostbite was just the beginning. The cold continued to creep inward, invading muscle and bone alike. Flesh hardened, joints locked, and blood thickened until it could no longer move.
In ti, the target was frozen from the inside out.
Death did not co from impact or force, but from total cessation as the body beca nothing more than a hollow shell of ice.
And Adam was already beginning to feel it.
The cold bit into his skin, numbing his fingers and stiffening his joints. Frost clung to his robes, and each breath burned his lungs as it turned to mist. His movents remained steady, but the effort behind them was growing with every passing mont.
If not for his powerful physique, the effects would have already been fatal. An ordinary Mana Core Magus would have already frozen solid by now.
Adam continued to endure as he fought the endless horde of undead led by the Rank 4 undead knight.
The battle had quickly turned into one of attrition.
Either the Winter Lord would succumb to the poison first, or...
Adam would freeze to death.
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