Chapter 71: Ice Golem

More undead hellhounds and night owls gathered at the alley entrance. Besides the hellhounds, there were also zombies—those responsible for transporting corpses—who now appeared before Wade.  

The necromancer’s minions had completely blocked the road ahead. The pack of hellhounds wandering around Alvado surged in like a tide from all directions. The circling black birds obscured the moonlight, as if shrouded by dark clouds.  

Wade faced Quasimodo’s undead army alone. Gripping his sword with both hands, he raised Radiance high. Sacred white flames extended from the blade’s tip, swirling hot waves with cold air to form a whirlwind. His tattered gray sheepskin coat fluttered in the wind, and his rusted iron helmet reflected metallic gleams.  

The Holy Flame in his hand dispelled the dense darkness. Although his gear was worn, at this moment, he looked like a holy knight stepped out of legend—solemn and sacred.  

He alone guarded this alley entrance. With sword swings tracing fiery circles, he instantly intimidated all those evil creatures.  

The undead instinctively feared Radiance’s demon-purging power, much like rats accustomed to darkness instinctively avoiding glaring sunlight. They dared not approach those scorching holy flames.  

Wade held the dead at bay without launching another attack. His goal was to delay as long as possible, to attract attention and buy Lucas time to escape.  

If he could use fire to drive back these hellhounds and zombies, that would be best.  

But the souls of these undead were bound by curses and spells. They couldn’t control themselves and had to obey their master.  

When the master gave an order, they charged forward recklessly.  

The undead hellhounds split into two ranks, and the birds above also divided into two groups.  

The first group of hellhounds and the first group of birds suddenly lunged toward the white flames.  

They sacrificed their souls and bodies to consume the fire’s power. The birds and hellhounds were ignited by the sacred flames, but they did not burn violently. Before the holy fire could completely incinerate them, their bodies exploded with a bang.  

Visible dark toxins spewed from the rotting flesh and blood. Those remnants extinguished the flames. The once soaring Holy Flame quickly dimmed under the minions’ depletion.  

Wade realized he could no longer waste much fire. Starfire could only borrow the power of flames; it couldn’t conjure fire out of thin air like a mage.  

This flaw was why Sven made sure every one of his team carried an oil sack to quickly ignite a flame when needed.  

But Wade didn’t have dozens of teammates to feed the fire—he was alone. Once the surrounding flames ran out, he had no way to strengthen Radiance’s demon-purging power further.  

So he gathered the remaining flames together, concentrating all the fire around his body and onto Radiance.  

The second group of hellhounds and night owls charged at him. He stood calmly, facing the surging undead. Feet slightly apart, knees bent, waist twisted, he assumed the offensive posture of the Spinning Sword Style.  

The sword’s edge traced a spiral arc. The Holy Flame shone pure white, drawing a circle. Bright light radiated from the curve’s edge.  

He compressed the remaining flames together, as if holding the sun itself in his hands. The midday sun materialized from his sword tip.  

He strode forward without flashy moves, simply unleashing his full power with each swing.  

The undead before him ignited, and he slashed them into fragments, liberating their bound souls.  

The holy power reduced those profaned bodies to white smoke. Radiance’s inner power was fully unleashed. This holy sword, forged from mythril and obsidian, had formidable suppressive power against evil creatures.  

Wade swung his sword at will, recalling the thousands of deadly battles with Sven in his dreams. He had memorized the feeling of wielding the sword. Once he remembered how to swing, his body no longer made mistakes.  

He could precisely perform the movements he imagined. Whether it was incoming hellhounds or night owls, they were blocked or dodged with subtle motions. When he swung the sword, the undead shattered.  

It felt as if the undead were not coming to kill him but were being drawn by some invisible force—his sword guiding them to their disintegration.  

Radiance glowed bright red from the heat. Every slash from Wade sent dazzling sparks flying.  

Poison and stench meant nothing to a skeleton.  

Like an iron cavalry, he crushed the enemies before him. Scorching wind whipped up fire sparks and smoke. He held the alley firmly, tearing through the encirclement.  

If this were a war, the enemy facing him would only feel fear. Such overwhelming psychological pressure would shatter morale, causing soldiers to drop their weapons and flee in panic.  

But the necromancer’s minions’ souls no longer belonged to themselves. Even if they screamed in twisted agony, they had no choice but to advance.  

The flames on Radiance dimmed when facing such a massive enemy force.  

Perhaps he shouldn’t have killed that Flame Imp so quickly; he should have let it release a few more fireballs.  

But there was no chance to regret. He continued to slash with his blade. Few night owls and hellhounds remained. A few zombies moved forward—they carried no weapons.  

Each zombie’s face was sickly pale, wearing thin white linen clothes. They didn’t seem like combat units, probably just minions assisting Quasimodo.  

The zombies stretched out their arms, surrounding Wade.  

The gesture felt familiar. Skeleton brothers Wade had met in the wasteland always tried to grab him tightly with their hands and bite his bones.  

These zombies obviously wanted to get close. The necromancer planned to use them to release the corpse explosion spell.  

Old York had said the power of corpse explosion depended on the corpse’s size and the amount of magic infused within.  

The zombies were several times larger than the hellhounds, and their magic infusion was even greater. Their explosion power was probably comparable to fireball.  

If Wade took the blast from these zombies up close, he might have to end this journey right there.  

He silently called out to Mia. Subtle white mist swirled as magic gathered on the snow’s surface.  

Ice began to form. One zombie’s ankle was frozen, causing it to lose balance and fall. All the zombies were frozen in place, unable to move forward.  

Wade sensed Mia’s intention.  

“Do you want the necromantic core’s magic?”  

Mia seemed to want to do something. She saw Wade fighting these undead and understood these enemies were theirs.  

Wade was slightly puzzled but followed her lead, holding the murky crystal stone from his waist pouch.  

Magic from the stone was transmitted to the little ghost. The entire necromantic core’s power was drained by the little ghost.  

A massive amount of magic condensed on Mia. She floated out and landed on the snow.  

The snow before her gathered, compressed inward, then took shape.  

Magic flowed into the snowball, which grew taller than Wade. Shadows covered him. Within seconds, the snow solidified into hard ice, forming a human shape.  

Mia modeled the figure after a certain person, creating a towering ice golem.  

Wade looked at its size and build, unable to help but sigh.  

Sven Freud. He hadn’t expected to see that man again in this way.