Karnak, Monarch of Death

In truth, despite appearances, Karnak and his companions had not fully recovered their strength. If they had, it wouldn’t have been just Karnak rejoining the fight. Everyone else would have as well. But the others were still catching their breath within the crevices of the cliff.

However, Redeemer of Necromancy was a spell that merely allowed one to slip their spoon into a ready meal. The technique was intricate and highly refined, making it difficult to cast, but it did not require much mana.

I may still lack the strength to fight properly, but I can’t let this golden opportunity slip by.

With a slight gesture of his hand, Karnak commanded, ”Go forth, my servants.”

A chorus of wails echoed as the Atwalads charged toward Maloka. Theoderic also sent forth the wraith he had under his control, joining in the assault.

All the while, he kept sneaking glances toward Karnak. No matter how many times I see it, it’s truly amazing.

Redeemer of Necromancy was a spell that defied understanding. It wasn’t particularly difficult to learn. In fact, anyone could grasp it with enough effort. But mastering its execution? That was an enigma.

Using it repeatedly did not improve one’s proficiency, nor did a more skilled mage necessarily gain control over more undead. No matter how much Theoderic trained, he had never been able to dominate more than a single undead creature. Yet one of his apprentices had once managed to steal control over ten zombies.

Still, it wasn’t as if skill was entirely meaningless. His apprentices could only seize control of lesser undead. Theoderic, as an eighth circle mage, could wrest control from even a high-tier demon. And yet, he couldn’t control more than one zombie at a time. Strong or weak, his limit remained a single entity.

I should take this chance to ask Karnak about it personally.

Meanwhile, Maloka trembled with rage. ”Yo-You damned wretches!”

The Atwalads he had painstakingly summoned were now attacking him from all sides. He couldn’t afford to stand idly by, so he poured his full strength into obliterating the wraiths. The problem was that every single one of his spells hit their mark without fail.

Karnak wasn’t making the Atwalads evade. Why? Because if he lost control over them, he would have to deal with the wraiths himself.

”Go ahead. Fight each other with everything you’ve got.”

He was using his enemy’s own hands to dispose of the wraiths while steadily draining Maloka’s strength. It was obvious that he intended to win without lifting a finger.

But there’s nothing I can do about it!

Maloka had no choice but to keep destroying the relentless wraiths. In the end, all the Atwalads were annihilated. Maloka’s magic was undoubtedly powerful. The price for eliminating the Atwalads, however, was a severe depletion of his already dwindling mana.

Alius and Erantel exchanged a relaxed conversation.

”So, all the wraiths are gone.”

”Thanks to that, we’ve caught our breath.”

Stepping back, Karnak sneered. ”How tragic. That must be frustrating.”

The despair of watching a carefully built tower collapse was the same for both the living and the dead.

”Yo-You damned brat!” Maloka ground his teeth as he glared at Karnak, who was now moving toward the cliff.

He wanted nothing more than to grab that smug, black-haired youth and tear him to shreds. But the situation wouldn’t allow it.

”Now, save your mana, Sir Karnak!” Erantel stepped forward, blocking the archlich’s path with his aura-infused blade. ”We’ll handle the finishing blow!”

A violet arc of energy sliced through the air in a wide arc. Maloka summoned the darkness in response. Thanks to Karnak’s interference, most of his mana was already depleted. Now, he could only fight back with what little necromantic energy remained.

”Come forth, sentinels of the abyss!”

He unleashed a necromancy spell, Shadow Beasts. Wisps of dark mist rose as spectral beasts formed, their razor-sharp claws slashing through the air.

Yet Erantel remained unfazed. He was, after all, the commander of the King’s Order. ”I’ve fought creatures like this more times than I can count!”

His aura-infused blade weaved through the incoming attacks with precision. In mere moments, the shadowy beasts dissipated into nothingness.

Seizing the opening, Alius began his prayer. ”Hatoba, with your light, cleanse this wretched being!”

Brilliant radiance illuminated the cliffs. Golden waves of divine energy surged forward, engulfing Maloka. Flames erupted across the archlich’s entire body.

Maloka struggled to restore his melting body, forcing it to mend itself. As he did, his vision caught sight of Theoderic preparing his trump card.

”The foundation of all creation submits to will...” He tossed his wand into the air and crossed his hands. ”In the name of the great providence, I shall become the one who orchestrates the world.”

The floating wand locked onto its target, forming a crimson magic circle. Simultaneously, blue and white magic circles materialized around Theoderic’s hands.

”Tear, freeze, and burn! Doom of Desolation!”

The three-layered magic circles activated in unison, unleashing a torrent of frost, gales, and fire all at once. Frost crept across the ground, freezing everything in its path. The violent storm ripped through the lich’s barrier and shredded it apart.

Maloka’s skeletal jaw chattered incessantly. ”N-No...!”

And then came the inferno. It was a devastating surge of destruction that pierced through his spectral body, penetrating his now-exposed ribcage.

”Aaaaargh!” The explosion drowned out even his scream as it sent tremors across the cliffs.

***

Smoke billowed thick in the air beyond the massive crater.

Narrowing his eyes, Theoderic peered through the fading haze. ”Did we get him?”

Alius shook his head. ”Not yet.”

As a top-class inquisitor, he could still sense the presence of the archlich’s essence. It was faint and flickering, as though on the verge of vanishing, but present nonetheless.

Erantel, sword at the ready, spoke. ”Be cautious, Lord Theoderic. You wouldn’t want to get caught off guard, would you?”

”I know.”

He was already preparing another spell to follow up. Erantel, too, remained on high alert, ensuring Theoderic was covered in case of a counterattack. Charging in blindly without securing visibility could be a fatal mistake. They all knew better than to give their enemy any openings.

They waited for the smoke to clear, eyes fixed beyond the blast zone.

Deep within the lingering explosion, Maloka stood in stunned disbelief. Me...? I... fell for such a pathetic trap...?

He was furious at himself more than anything. Even before the regression of time, he had always been prone to falling for such ploys, especially at the hands of Lapicel, the Martial King of Cyphras. But back then, the Great God of Death, Tesranach, had always saved him.

How disgraceful... A bitter sigh escaped him. Must I rely on his power once again...?

Slowly, Maloka reached into his chest. His bony fingers slid between his ribs, his fingertips trembling as he did so. This was something he must never touch. It didn’t belong to him. Worse, if anything went wrong, it would bring catastrophic consequences to his future plans.

But he had no choice. If he fell here, it wouldn’t just be a setback. It would be the utter collapse of everything.

”Forgive me... my master.” His voice trembled as he withdrew his hand.

The air quaked with a deafening tremor.

Theoderic, who had been preparing his next spell, turned deathly pale. ”What...?!”

From the brink of death, an overwhelming force erupted from Maloka’s body. Erantel and Alius, sensing the abrupt shift, immediately hardened their stances.

What is this?

Where did this power come from?

Maloka planted his golden staff firmly into the ground. ”This foolish servant has committed a grave sin without permission...”

A crimson blaze flared within his empty eye sockets. A pure storm of mana burst forth from his entire being. ”With their heads, I shall seek your forgiveness!”

A colossal surge of mana swept over the cliffs, spilling beyond the river and forest, shaking the very sky itself.

***

A brilliant white light spread across the night sky, burning away the darkness.

”Fall, dogs of the goddess.”

The radiant glow transformed into a storm of magical energy, sweeping toward the priests. Erantel, Theoderic, and Alius all tried to counter the assault, but it was futile. The overwhelming pressure didn’t just engulf the priests. It tore through them as well, consuming everything in its path.

”Ugh!”

”Gah!”

The warriors who had stood firm until now were tossed away like fallen leaves in an autumn gale. In an instant, their formation collapsed, and the intricate divine magic that had bound their sacred radiance began to unravel.

Maloka seized the opening, raising his staff toward the sky. ”Collapse. Sink. Perish.”

Four streaks of light shot up above the forest canopy before crashing down upon the pillars forming the barrier.

With a series of deafening explosions, all four pillars shattered at once, causing countless fragments of divine light to scatter like embers in the wind. The fallen priests let out faint groans.

”Aah...”

”The goddess’s light...”

The grand, multi-layered sacred barrier they had painstakingly prepared had been completely annihilated. Now, there was nothing left to suppress the monster before them.

A low, hollow laugh escaped Maloka. ”At last, I can breathe freely.”

The spectral core within his chest pulsed with white radiance. The pulsating power wasn’t the power of death or necromantic energy. It was pure mana. From a being of unholy darkness, the most immaculate magic surged forth.

”To think you would force me into such blasphemy...”

Dozens of magic circles materialized around Maloka. Flames of destruction floated in the air, and ripples of energy pulsed endlessly from the tip of his staff.

”I shall never forgive you!”

Every single magic circle flared at once, and a barrage of firestorms and lightning erupted in all directions. The ground was split apart. Its shattered remains were caught in violent tempests and thrown into the sky. Before such overwhelming devastation, mere mortals were nothing more than leaves caught in a raging storm.

”H-Hatoba, please...!”

Erantel gritted his teeth, swinging his aura-infused blade to cleave through the incoming bolts of lightning. ”Damn it, was he hiding his strength this whole time?”

No, this made no sense. Maloka’s very survival had been at risk. What reason could he possibly have had to conceal such power in that situation?

Something doesn’t add up.

If he had truly been holding back, he should have revealed his full strength long ago. And yet, the archlich before them was undeniably radiating an immense force.

Maloka’s chilling voice rang through the battlefield. ”Taste the power of destruction bestowed upon me!”

Blades of wind magic spread across the battlefield, sweeping in all directions. The ground was torn apart, sending clouds of dust billowing into the air.

With her sword at the ready, Serati urgently turned to Karnak. ”What the hell is going on, Lord Karnak?”

Varos, Leven, and the others also looked at him. They had rushed out of hiding in a frenzy with their weapons in hand. The battle had shifted so drastically that there was no longer time to rest in the cliff’s shelter.

Karnak’s expression hardened as he responded. ”I don’t know.”

It wasn’t an act. He truly had no idea. He glared at his former subordinate as he unleashed an unfathomable torrent of mana. The former Monarch of Death furrowed his brows.

Where the hell did he suddenly get such power? Maloka never had this kind of ability.