Chapter 107: The Necromancer's Domain

The soldiers retreated in terror, huddling together. On the battlefield, killing the enemy meant victory, yet these corpses were moving again. Their blood-stained faces looked ghastly pale under the dim firelight, accentuating their horrifying death masks. Every single one of them felt terrified and anxious, utterly frightened by what was happening before their eyes.

Wade permitted Mia to use Dead Servant Control, a third-circle necromantic spell from the Construct school. According to Old York, a third-circle necromancer could only control about ten corpses. As necromancers advanced in rank, the number of corpses they could manipulate would increase. The exact number wasn’t fixed—it depended on the caster’s own power and talent.

Though Wade judged Mia to be at the third-circle mage level, the number of corpses she could control far exceeded that. She possessed exceptional talent when it came to “control.” Every corpse in the entire cave stood up under the influence of her necromantic magic.

In places filled with corpses, a necromancer alone could form an army. This so-called evil school of magic specialized in fighting against multiple enemies, especially those weaker than themselves. Curses that weakened opponents, corpse poison that caused instant death upon contact, large-scale corpse explosions, and the signature undead army—all were trademarks of necromancers.

There was a reason necromancers were feared. Their methods of killing enemies were endless and far harder to defend against than direct attack spells like fireballs. This profession gained more advantages in places with more death. If icy landscapes were Mia’s natural domain, then battlefields like this cave—piled with corpses and flowing with blood—undoubtedly belonged to the necromancer.

Coincidentally, Mia had recently learned several necromantic spells. In addition to corpse manipulation, she had mastered corpse explosion and a rudimentary version of flesh stitching. Frost magic was her innate power, but she had also dabbled in several Construct school necromantic spells by absorbing fragments of other mages’ souls.

To be honest, although Wade had broken through to Silver-rank, he was still just a rigid warrior. Mia was the true noble spellcasting professional here. Against the Icelandic army, third-circle Mia could unleash far more combat power than he could.

These Icelanders clearly had no experience fighting necromancers. When they saw skeletons at the cave entrance, they should have realized a necromancer might be inside. At the very least, they should have disposed of the visible corpses before entering—then they wouldn’t be trapped in this narrow cave, attacked from both front and rear with no retreat possible.

Their numbers had given them great confidence. When someone recklessly charged in, the rest stopped thinking and simply followed the crowd. Now the leading knight captain finally realized his grave mistake. His face flushed red as he shouted “Form ranks!” But the crowded cave left no space for soldiers to arrange their usual battle formations.

Under orders, archers shot arrows at the corpses. Wooden shafts embedded in arms, thighs, and eye sockets—but what good did that do? At most, the arrows’ impact made the corpses stagger back slightly. These slave traders and guards had already been killed by the pirate group they hired. No amount of arrows could kill the already dead—at best, they turned corpses into “porcupines.”

The dead felt no pain. Unless they completely dismembered the bodies, there was no stopping them. The entire troop squeezed toward the center, with fully armored knights at the periphery raising shields against the corpses’ hacking attacks while panicked archers in the middle fired arrows chaotically.

“Kill those skeletons!” the knight roared. “They’re the ones controlling the corpses! It might be a lich!” The knight’s knowledge of liches was superficial at best—he’d only heard the name somewhere. If a real lich were here, they wouldn’t even have a chance to resist.

Wade had learned about liches from York. They represented the ultimate form necromancers pursued. Every lich was at least a Gold-rank high-tier undead—souls below Gold-rank couldn’t withstand the transformation process or retain their minds and memories. Liches were nearly perfect immortal spellcasters, not naturally born undead but powerful casters who deliberately transformed themselves through complex rituals. A lich could kill them more easily than crushing chicks.

They completely lost discipline, frantically pushing toward Wade’s position. The knight’s words plunged every soldier into fear and madness. Wade had originally hoped to shed less blood, but with these soldiers determined to kill him, he had no choice but to fight back.

He drew his sword alongside three skeletons. The ice wall Mia created shattered as knights charged through with shields and bodies, knocking down the six black-clad figures. Exposed to the soldiers’ sight, Wade saw all the flames in the cave suddenly extinguished before they could attack—torches in soldiers’ hands, oil lamps placed in dug-out niches along the walls—all light vanished.

Plunged into darkness, the soldiers lost all sense of direction. Wade used Starfire’s power to control the dying flames, directing them to blood pools on walls or the ground to extinguish them. Darkness was the undead’s domain, and every soldier regretted rashly entering this cave.

Unable to see enemies or allies yet hearing chaotic footsteps and shield clashes, they sensed monsters approaching in the dark. Some lost reason, wildly swinging swords; others tried fleeing outward; some attempted following the knight’s orders to kill the “lich” inside. Morale and order completely collapsed. In this confined space, trampling occurred—Wade saw soldiers even slashing their own comrades.

When warm blood splashed on their faces, they froze stupidly in place. Curses and jumbled commands mixed together until nothing was distinguishable. Still, several heavily armored knights reached Wade, swinging knight’s swords and pushing forward with shields.

Wade and the skeletons dodged with simple sidesteps and crouches. Forming a sword formation with three skeletons, they targeted weak joints in the heavy armor. Against such “tin can” enemies, the sword formation proved slightly inadequate.

Wade thought he should find ways to learn some common combat techniques. Having broken through to Silver-rank yet lacking any professional warrior skills left him at a disadvantage. His offensive methods were too limited. In this turbulent region, unexpected battles could erupt anytime. Though he’d learned sword techniques and many sword forms, he still lacked several more powerful finishing moves.

While he could empower himself with souls to enhance strength and reinforce weapons, he couldn’t forever rely on just one trick. Without being able to summon more souls, learning more combat techniques would make him stronger. Mentally, he mimicked the slashing techniques used by Viking swordsmen he’d seen today, but copying movements couldn’t replicate the same supernatural power—he only grasped superficial forms without understanding their essence.

Abandoning imitation, he killed the charging knights alongside the skeletons. Viking swords pierced knees and pried off visors. Sword tips stabbed throats as Wade cleanly delivered death. Reckless knights collapsed to the ground. In soul vision, living flames extinguished one by one.

Mia also used frost magic to create blood spears piercing hearts and throats. Actually, corpse explosion could have quickly resolved everything, but the cave was too narrow—Wade worried it might cause a collapse. The chaotic noises gradually diminished until silence filled the cave.

Wade didn’t kill all the soldiers—only those who attacked. Those who dropped weapons and curled up covering their heads still lived. Very few survived—just three lucky ones whose cowardice and positions helped them dodge both allies’ swords and undead attacks. Wade spared those who surrendered and posed no threat.

If he could speak, he would have shouted in the darkness, “Drop your weapons—surrenderers won’t be killed.” But unable to communicate with these soldiers, he could only send them on their final journey.

Deep in the prison cells, a dragon girl with golden vertical pupils silently observed everything that had transpired. Her raised scales tightened slightly—even she seemed chilled by what had just occurred.