Chapter 64: Dancing in the Necromancer’s Palm

“DON’T LET THEM GET CLOSE!”

Sebastian’s voice tore through the battlefield like a breaking whip.

Veins bulged along his forehead, and cold sweat drenched his back, soaking through his robes.

His heart hammered violently against his ribs as instinct screamed at him that allowing the undead to close the distance would spell disaster.

He did not hesitate.

Gripping his staff with both hands, Sebastian slammed its base into the ground and began chanting at breakneck speed.

“Hellfire Circle!”

A blazing crimson sigil exploded into existence beneath the advancing undead legion.

The runes carved themselves into the ground in an instant, forming a massive magic circle that trapped dozens of skeletons within its radius.

The next second.

Whoom!

Flames erupted violently from the circle, surging upward like a living inferno.

Undead servants caught within its bounds were instantly engulfed, their bones glowing red-hot as necrotic energy hissed and evaporated.

Hiss!

Hiss!

The sound was nauseating, like flesh burning, though there was none.

Skeletons writhed and collapsed as the fire consumed them from the inside out.

Bones cracked, split, and shattered into ash that scattered across the scorched earth.

Even as the spell succeeded, Sebastian’s expression did not soften.

Not even slightly.

The area-of-effect spell had bought them only a few precious seconds and he knew it.

A short distance away, Minerva surged forward with grim determination blazing in her eyes.

Her movements were sharp and ruthless as she hacked apart a low-level undead warrior, her blade cleaving cleanly through bone and spine.

Her chest burned with rage.

Each swing of her sword carried unspoken fury, a storm of suppressed hatred that had been festering inside her for far too long.

To Minerva, she was not killing skeletons.

She was killing Thoren.

Every undead servant represented him.

Every shattered skull was another step closer to dragging that bastard down.

Flames flared along her blade as she slashed again, the weapon glowing fiercely as it cut through skeletal limbs with frightening ease.

Bones exploded outward, clattering uselessly across the battlefield.

When several skeletons attempted to surround her, Minerva’s eyes flashed.

She shifted elements without hesitation.

Wind surged violently around her.

Boom!

A powerful blast erupted outward, scattering the undead like broken dolls.

Skeletons were flung through the air, their bodies tearing apart mid-flight before crashing uselessly to the ground.

“No matter how many skeletons you have,” Minerva growled through clenched teeth, advancing relentlessly, “today will be your end.”

Not far from her, Rowena’s situation was far more controlled.

As a paladin, she moved with calm efficiency, her expression focused but composed. Holy energy shimmered faintly around her as she raised her weapon.

“Holy Avenger.”

Two concentrated beams of radiant light shot forward, streaking through the air with blinding brilliance.

Boom!

Boom!

The beams struck two skeletons head-on.

They didn’t even have time to react.

The moment holy light touched them, their bodies disintegrated completely, reduced to fine dust that scattered on the wind.

No bones remained.

No fragments.

Nothing.

The skeletons stood absolutely no chance.

Any undead servant that came within range of Rowena’s attacks was erased entirely, their existence wiped out by purifying radiance.

Meanwhile, the remaining members of the Glorious Path Party were holding their own.

They moved in tight, coordinated formations, supporting one another with practiced precision.

Warriors intercepted incoming skeletons while ranged attackers provided cover.

Mages rotated their spells carefully, conserving mana while maximizing impact.

For a moment.

It looked like they were winning.

After all, while Thoren was dangerous, the Glorious Path Party was not weak.

Or so they believed.

From the very beginning of the battle, Thoren had done nothing more than deploy low-level undead warriors.

He stood at a distance, arms folded across his chest, watching the chaos unfold with a lazy smirk playing on his lips.

Not a single bead of sweat marked his face.

Why wasn’t he panicking?

Why wasn’t he fighting back?

The answer was simple.

He was experimenting.

Thoren’s sharp blue eyes followed Rowena’s movements closely, analyzing every strike, every pulse of holy energy.

’So this is how holy light works…’

He was satisfied with what he observed.

Rowena was efficient, exceptionally so.

Each attack was precise, calculated, and economical. She used minimal mana while achieving maximum destruction.

Thoren had intentionally sent only Level 9 skeletons toward her.

The others?

They were dealing with Level 8 undead and below.

’So either I kill her in one decisive strike,’ Thoren mused calmly, tapping his temple, ’or I don’t let my undead get anywhere near her.’

From the feedback flowing through his undead legion, he learned exactly how her power functioned.

Holy light severed his mental connection first.

Then it burned away the necrotic energy sustaining the undead.

It was absolute.

“…Such a fine paladin,” Thoren muttered under his breath, clicking his tongue. “Tsk. What a loss.”

By now, the number of skeletons had dwindled significantly.

The Glorious Path Party began pushing forward, flanking from both sides.

Morale surged.

Confidence bloomed.

“Ah! I thought he’d be more dangerous than this.”

“Tch! His skeletons are weak.”

“Even without us, the captain and vice-captain are enough to deal with him.”

“You’re right.”

Laughter and mockery spread among the party.

The fear Idonea and her group had instilled earlier began to fade. The image of Thoren as an unstoppable monster crumbled rapidly.

How could this boy be the terrifying existence they had described?

Sebastian felt a small smile tug at his lips as he looked at the fewer than ten skeletons remaining.

’Why isn’t he worried?’ he wondered, knitting his brow.

’Is he giving up?’

The situation wasn’t what he had expected but they were winning.

And that was all that mattered.

Minerva, meanwhile, stood at the forefront, her anger now laced with fierce relief. Her sword flashed repeatedly, cutting down the last few skeletons with brutal efficiency.

’Let’s see how you escape now,’ she sneered inwardly.

’For everything you’ve done, I’ll make you suffer tenfold.’

’I’ll make an example of you.’

’Federation law stands above everyone.’

Bang!

Bang!

Her blade cleaved through the final skeleton.

Silence followed.

Only Thoren remained standing a few feet away, still wearing that infuriating smirk.

“Thoren Starfall,” Minerva declared coldly, stepping forward. “Surrender now, or I will be forced to incapacitate you.”

Thoren did not answer.

He looked at her briefly.

Then his gaze shifted to Rowena.

“I suppose my experiment was successful,” he said casually.

Experiment?

The word struck like a hammer.

Everyone froze.

“What experiment?” someone scoffed.

They had defeated his undead.

He was about to be captured.

Yet he still dared to speak nonsense?

Contempt filled their expressions.

“What a foolish boy,” someone mocked.

But Rowena felt a chill crawl up her spine.

Something was wrong.

This wasn’t right.

A necromancer, especially one as dangerous as Thoren, would never fall this easily.

From everything she had heard, from Minerva’s own account, Thoren had once resisted Federation forces in town.

And now?

Everything had gone far too smoothly.

“Something is wrong…” Rowena whispered.

Her eyes widened.

“Minerva, come back!” she screamed.

Too late.

Minerva had already stepped forward, consumed by righteous fury. She swung her sword low, aiming to cripple Thoren’s knee.

Whoosh!

The blade passed straight through him but instead of the cry an anguished she was expecting.

The world shattered.

The battlefield twisted violently.

Thoren vanished.

The scene around them warped like broken glass.

In the next instant.

Thoren was standing exactly where he had always been.

Beside his scorpion skeleton.

Untouched.

Unmoved.

The battlefield they had fought on was nothing more than an illusion with some weak skeletons tossed at them to keep them thinking they were winning.

“T-This…” Sebastian’s voice trembled.

Cold terror flooded his veins as reality crashed down on them.

They had never been fighting Thoren.

They had been dancing in the palm of his hand.

And now.

They were surrounded by an undead legion of the stonewall tribe warriors. Their stone spear gleaming, pointing at them as if asking for blood.

Now.

They’re going to witness why Idonea, and her group fear him.

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