The entire first floor of the House of Cards was riddled with hundreds of undead creatures, consisting of skeleton figures, zombies, ghouls, wraiths and other patchworks of flesh made whole.
They clawed at the walls, trying to find their way in. Or out.
Inside this grand pyramid, their sense of direction was completely muddled. All they could do was mindlessly claw at any solid structure they could lay eyes on.
But these undead creatures were easy prey for the unknown horrors that resided within these walls.
aty tendrils erged from the floor, the walls, and the ceilings, wrapping around all the undead creatures despite their intense struggles.
The tendrils produced mouths—big and small—their jagged teeth gleaming with cold light. These teeth dug into the flesh and bones of the undead creatures, killing them one bite at a ti.
Adam walked through these ominous corridors with his hands clasped behind his back. Through his Sphere of Resonance, he could sense the remaining enemies that were still inside.
He had just taken care of one. Now, only two remained.
Suddenly, his eyes narrowed when he saw a dozen or so aty tendrils with eyeballs sticking out of them reaching out toward him.
"Hmph!" He conjured his staff and swung it casually, pumling the otherwordly tendrils into tiny pieces of at.
Despite that, these small pieces of flesh continued to squirm. They coalesced to form thick, aty appendages once again.
However, this ti, they didn't dare approach him. Instead, they coiled around the countless undead creatures on this floor, constricting them, killing them, devouring them!
These are the real undead beings, Adam thought to himself as he saw the tendrils slowly eat away at whatever remaining essence that the summoned undead creatures had within them.
The only drawback is they dare to bare their fangs at their master!
Adam shook his head as he made his way to the second floor. There, another necromancer awaited. After he had taken care of that one, he would finally take on the strongest of them all—Malcolm Morgan—whom he had isolated on the topmost floor.
…
Zora, the other Rank 3 Magus inside the House of Cards, was faring no better than the Magus who had just recently died.
Despite the creatures from Malthor being no stronger than Rank 2 in strength, he was still being overwheld.
The first reason was their sheer quantity. And the second was the natural aura of fear that these creatures radiated.
These ravenous beings that were born in the deepest pits of hunger and despair naturally emanated an aura so vile and terror-inducing that it caused their enemies to be unable to think properly.
If hundreds of these creatures were summoned together in one place, then their auras would compound and the effects would be no less than the Rank 3 Spell: Fear!
That was a spell from the School of Illusion that was an advanced version of the Rank 2 Spell: Chirical.
It projected a phantasmal image of the target's worst fear, making them so frightened that they were barely able to think.
And in a high-stakes battle between Mana Vortex Magi, the inability to make quick and rational decisions would be severely detrintal to the Magus.
In the worst cases, it could lead to death.
Still, Zora fared slightly better than the other Cultist who had just died. This man had at least managed to surround himself with his undead creatures, using them as at shields.
Suddenly the man heard footsteps coming from behind him.
In a state of sheer panic, he hurriedly turned around and ordered the undead creatures to attack, and at the sa ti, he weaved hand seals to cast a spell.
"It's ," ca the cold voice of Malcolm Morgan. He had a dark expression on his face as he stomped on several aty tendrils erging from the ground.
"Malcolm!" Zora showed an expression of relief when he saw his comrade. But soon, his eyes flashed with apprehension and he couldn't help but ask, "Just… Just what is this place? Where did these tendrils, these eyes and mouths co from?!"
The erald-eyed man had a deep frown plastering his face as he made his way through the undead creatures surrounding Zora and stood next to him.
He coldly gazed at the dark walls of the corridor as well as the grotesque creatures made of flesh and eyeballs spurting from the corners of it.
"This man, Adam Constantine…" Malcolm began, "He has many spells in his arsenal. Especially this house of cards and these terrifying tendrils… I don't know just where he found them."
He paused for a mont, his expression turning grave. "He holds a valuable secret. A very valuable secret! That would explain why he is instantly able to grasp so many Rank 3 spells despite becoming a Mana Vortex Magus only just now!"
"Could it be…" Zora muttered in shock. "Could it possibly be an inheritance of an ancient Magus?"
Malcolm nodded with a solemn expression. "Perhaps, this is why the cult leader is interested in him. To be more precise, he is interested in the secret that Constantine possesses."
He turned to Zora and asked, "What do you think?"
"…I don't know." Zora shook his head. "None of us can comprehend what goes in the mind of our great master."
Suddenly, he frowned. Sothing seed odd about Malcolm. After all, he had never once dared to understand the cult leader's thoughts or decisions.
He was soone who blindly followed the cult leader and never questioned his authority.
Yet, here he was, asking him sothing that he would never.
"I see." Malcolm nodded. "So none of you seem to know."
Before Zora could even react, he saw Malcolm reach out toward him and place his hand on his shoulder.
Then, under Zora's stupefied expression, Malcolm's body was covered in gray smoke, and when the smoke receded, Malcolm was no longer there.
Instead, it was a raven-haired youth in dark robes and a pointy hat.
Rank 3 Spell: True Illusion!
A spell that created an illusion completely real to their true counterparts, including the sound, sll, and even temperature.
"Constantine!" Zora was thunderstruck! He didn't even realize that it was an illusion.
Another thing he didn't realize was that while he was talking to 'Malcolm', several aty tendrils with eyes and maws had erged from the ground and ensnared him.
Adam's eyes narrowed and he coldly muttered, "You are useless."
"You!!" Unprecedented fear rose from the pits of Zora's stomach, realizing the imnse danger he was in. "What are you trying to—"
STAB!
With his other hand, Adam lodged Nighthollow straight through the cultist's lower jaw and watched the tip of the dagger jut out from the top of his head.
Without casting another glance, the raven-haired youth walked away, leaving behind the Rank 3 Magus to be slowly eaten by the creatures of Malthor.
He then slowly ascended to the third floor where his final prey awaited.
Two down, one to go.
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