Most of the undead they encountered along the way were low-level monsters: Undead Warriors and Undead Archers, with levels around fifteen.
The Undead Warriors were clad in tattered leather armor or rusted chainmail, their skeletal arms and legs exposed, holding notched iron swords in both hands.
Their helts were crooked, revealing half of their skeletal faces, with faint dark-green soul fire flickering in their eye sockets.
They moved with stiff, limping joints, but they were nurous, swarming forward like a dense tide.
Scraps of dried flesh hung from their bodies, and they made a 'clack-clack' sound of bone grinding against bone as they walked.
The Undead Archers wore ruined leather garnts, carried quivers of black-feathered arrows, and held shortbows.
They lacked lower jaws, exposing their upper teeth, and the soul fire in their eye sockets was dark green, brighter than that of the warriors.
Their bodies were lighter, their movent speed faster, and their arm movents were smooth yet chanical when firing.
The tips of their arrows were shrouded in dark purple mist, leaving behind corrosive shadow energy upon impact.
The team advanced toward the densest concentration of undead.
Every so often, a wave of undead would surge forward, only to be quickly cleared out by the group.
Tie Dun's shield smashed the skulls of several Undead Warriors.
Feng Qingyan's Fla Burst exploded into cluster after cluster of flas within the undead swarm.
Jiang Yelan's figure flickered among the undead, each flash of her shadow moon blade taking one down.
After advancing for about half an hour, the group spotted a high platform in the distance.
The platform was constructed from piles of white bones, layered densely upon one another.
Skulls, ribs, arm bones, and leg bones—all sorts of bones were bonded together by so force to form a platform ten ters high.
Under the cold white light of the soul fire, the bones gave off a ghastly pale luster, looking eerie and terrifying.
Standing atop the platform was a figure. He wore deep purple robes embroidered with complex runes that glowed faintly under the light of the soul fire.
His face was hidden in the shadow of his hood, making his features indistinguishable; only a pair of ghostly green eyes could be seen, burning like two wisps of phantom fire in the darkness.
In his hands, he held a heavy black leather book, its cover carved with patterns of skulls and vines, the edges of its pages glowing with a dark purple light.
【Necromancer · Mordred (Rare Boss)】 【Level: Lv35】
Lin Feng's gaze turned solemn. Level thirty-five, a Rare Boss, the sa rank as Gruen, the gatekeeper of the first floor.
However, Mordred was a mage, and a mage's combat style was completely different from a warrior's.
"Onto the platform," Lin Feng said.
The group charged toward the high platform.
Five Undead Knights were patrolling near the platform; seeing the group approach, they imdiately initiated a charge.
But under the siege of the eight people, in less than ten breaths, all five Undead Knights fell.
After the battle ended, the light of leveling up shone one after another.
A white light flashed over Jiang Zhaoyue; Level 26.
Feng Qingyan also reached Level 26; the fla crystal on her staff flickered, and the fla grew slightly more vigorous than before.
Shi Pojun reached Level 26, his Tower Shield hitting the ground with a dull, heavy thud.
Jiang Yelan was Level 24, Zhao Hu was Level 23, Su Yurou was Level 23, and Tie Dun was Level 23.
"Haha! Leveled up again!" Tie Dun grinned broadly, his shield clapping loudly.
"At this rate, I'll be able to catch up to the Lord in a few more days!"
Feng Qingyan rolled her eyes at him: "Can you even catch up? Lord Lin is already at the Third Rank."
Tie Dun scratched his head, gave a couple of sheepish laughs, and fell silent.
Lin Feng didn't join in their banter; his gaze remained fixed on the figure atop the platform.
Mordred stood on the bone platform, holding the necromicon, motionless.
Countless phantoms of the dead floated in the air around him—so like humans, so like beasts, and so like indescribable things.
They wailed silently, their mouths opening and closing without making a sound, yet there was an invisible, heavy pressure that weighed on the heart.
Tie Dun followed Lin Feng's gaze and chuckled: "Is the big one coming? Eight of us against one of him, we'll just mob him to death!"
Just as he finished speaking, Mordred moved.
He didn't speak or roar; he simply slowly raised the necromicon in his hand.
The cover of the codex flipped open automatically, and the pages rustled as they turned.
Dark purple light surged from the pages, condensing above his head into a massive, roiling cloud of purple-black mist.
【Undead Scourge】
The ground cracked open. Countless fissures spread outward from the base of the platform like a giant spiderweb, cutting the entire plain into fragnts.
Skeletal arms reached out from the cracks, followed by skulls, shoulders, torsos, and legs.
One, ten, a hundred, a thousand—they were dense and overwhelming, covering the land.
It wasn't dozens or hundreds, but exactly two thousand three hundred undead!
Undead Warriors climbed out of the fissures, gripping rusted iron swords.
The dark green soul fire in their eye sockets rged into one, like an ocean of phantom fire.
Undead Archers followed behind, their shortbows already drawn taut, the tips of their black-feathered arrows wreathed in dark purple mist.
They climbed out of the cracks and ford up on the plain, creating five neat formations of five hundred n each.
In the center of each formation stood an Undead Knight, lance held high and shield held across the horse's flank.
Even more terrifyingly, these newly summoned undead carried a higher-level combat formation aura.
【Undead Army Formation】: HP 200, Attack 20.
Two thousand three hundred undead, five 500-man formations, and five Undead Knights—all in perfect unison, their killing intent soaring to the heavens.
Tie Dun's face turned pale, as white as the bones on the platform.
Feng Qingyan's hand holding her staff was also trembling, but she gritted her teeth and remained silent.
The fla on the crystal flickered in and out, much like her heartbeat at this mont.
The air on the plain suddenly froze.
The five 500-man formations began to move slowly; the front-row Undead Warriors raised their rusted swords and locked their shields.
The rear-row Undead Archers drew their shortbows, the dark purple mist on their black arrows rging into a single sheet.
The central Undead Knights trotted their horses forward, lances leveled and shields held across their chests.
Hooves trampled the parched earth, kicking up black dust with every step.
Two thousand three hundred pairs of hollow eye sockets lit up with soul fire simultaneously, dark green and ghostly blue interweaving like an ocean of phantom fire.
A wind blew from the depths of the plain, whipping up tattered banners and rusted armor fragnts, making a 'woo-woo' sound like the crying of countless dead.
Mordred stood on the platform, his ghostly green eyes beneath the hood looking down at everyone from on high.
His mouth slowly curled open, revealing a silent, mocking {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} smile.
It was as if he were saying: Ganging up on ? Two thousand three hundred against eight—who's ganging up on whom?
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