Chapter 129: The Demon Worshiper

Miracle Card—Summon.

Wade activated the summoning power, calling forth the stone golem he had excavated from the wasteland.

This wasn’t the golem’s true body—just like when he summoned skeletons, it was merely a temporary construct that would vanish after time expired.

Nineteen souls dwelled within the golem’s form, controlling its movements.

The glow from Wade’s card dimmed. Summoning this single golem was equivalent to summoning nineteen souls simultaneously.

During their ten days in the wasteland, Wade had kept Mia maintaining the golem’s operational state. He had the souls enter the golem’s shell, controlling this ancient, broken construct through extensive training.

Now the golem could finally enter battle. This lumbering construct possessed mountain-crushing strength, and the Miracle Card perfectly replicated its condition. Despite severe damage, its every movement still made the earth tremble.

It triggered an avalanche. The shadow demons couldn’t withstand its power, getting tossed aside like fish caught in a tsunami.

The golem hurled shadow demons and snow alike into the air before smashing its massive stone arms together. The shadow demons shattered like fragile eggs against its impact, their carapace fragments and viscous fluids raining down.

Against a single shadow demon, this slow-moving golem would struggle to leverage its strength advantage. Those shadow-dwelling creatures could easily evade its attacks. But surrounded by demons, it no longer needed to worry about hitting its targets.

It merely needed to swing its arms—every random strike guaranteed enemy casualties. Like a harvester, it reaped the insects’ lives.

The surviving bugs quickly retreated from the golem’s vicinity, regrouping at a distance, too terrified to approach the stone construct again.

The golem had halved the shadow demons’ numbers. Meanwhile, its tremendous commotion roused the sleeping ratfolk and catfolk.

The demi-humans rubbed their foreheads as they stood, remembering they were on a battlefield, not nestled in warm beds.

The ratfolk and catfolk stared dumbfounded at the towering golem. When shadow demons tried bypassing it to attack the demi-humans behind, the construct swung its arm again.

The demi-humans watched as shadow demons were swatted away and shattered midair.

The golem stood guard on the snowy slope like a city wall. This terrifying magical construct was on their side—the tide had turned once more!

Igna’s short brown hair fluttered in the wind as she gazed up at the ancient construct, suddenly recalling archaic illustrations she’d seen on Third Era stone tablets.

Turquoise reliefs depicted elven and human mages standing together with staves, while dwarves lifted curtains to reveal that perfect creation.

A Gold-rank construct—the Nors Arcane Golem.

A combat puppet forged through the combined efforts of an era’s greatest mages and artisans. Dwarves, elves, humans… the continent’s finest minds gathered for decades to create this legendary marvel.

After Nors’ fall, the world never witnessed such extravagant endeavors again.

A single Nors golem’s value could purchase an entire nation—a true war machine capable of firing arcane cannons powerful enough to flatten mountains.

Even without its cannons, its raw strength could wrestle dragons, pinning even adult wyrms beneath its weight.

Igna never imagined she’d witness a Nors Arcane Golem in her lifetime.

Though cracked and holed through the chest, arcane energy still flowed through the grooves etched across its surface.

While awestruck, the golem’s battle scars terrified her—what could have inflicted such damage?

No time for speculation. Igna shook off her daze, noticing Wade waving at her.

“Fall back! Everyone retreat uphill! Light the fires!” Igna commanded the demi-humans behind her.

Staying would only hinder the golem and Spirits of Valor.

The dragonkin reorganized the ranks, leading the demi-humans uphill while gathering torches. She ordered them to use clothing as additional fuel.

Flames illuminated the snowy mountain again, revealing shadow demons lurking in the blizzard’s darkness.

“Drive the shadow demons toward the golem!” the dragonkin ordered.

“I’ll do it!” Jessia sprang into action.

Shadow Step—her agile movements left no footprints in snow.

As a Silver-rank thief with over a decade of experience, Jessia lacked means to pierce the demons’ carapaces but could evade their attacks and disrupt their balance.

Dagger in hand, she toppled shadow demons climbing from the shadows with precise strikes. Her catfolk subordinates swarmed forward with ropes and cloth sacks, bundling demons before kicking them toward the golem.

Demi-humans and golem coordinated perfectly—each approaching demon was delivered to the construct’s waiting arms to be crushed.

“Undead! Where do you hail from?”

The demon worshiper’s smile had vanished from the snowy battlefield. Oleg’s bloated face contorted with malice, greasy folds twisting his features into ugliness.

Wade naturally didn’t respond—he didn’t recognize this spherical creature.

But he knew one thing: this man had spawned those insects in the harbor and issued orders to exterminate demi-humans.

Undoubtedly, this demon worshiper was an enemy.

Against enemies, no words were needed—only combat.

Wade had already assumed his battle stance, sword tip aimed at the demon worshiper’s head. In an instant, he charged like lightning with gale force.

But his blade found no flesh—a barrier blocked Wade’s Charge.

An arcane barrier—defensive magic Wade had seen before in that Silver Moon priest’s hexagonal shield.

Magic pulsed from the demon worshiper’s ring-covered fingers as his human disguise burst apart.

“Those who hinder my master shall die!”

Black pustules erupted across his spherical body, emitting vile stenches.

His skin blackened like charcoal, oozing burn-like pus.

Wade discarded his shattered sword, charging again with a second blade.

Sword after sword broke in his grasp. Living warriors needed rest between techniques—their daily skill usage had limits.

But skeletons needed no rest while soul fire burned. Wade was far from exhausted, but his weapons couldn’t endure. After several strikes, all his Viking swords had become scrap metal, barely cracking the magical barrier.

“Undead, how will you fight without weapons?” The demon worshiper grinned.

Its wings spread again, lifting its body skyward.

Wade watched silently before crouching to plunge his skeletal hand into snow.

He withdrew a weapon forged from ice—a frost-covered round-headed mace steaming with cold vapor.