"I'll give you thirty seconds to cast your spells. Show me the so-called highest form of human spellcasting artistry," Moriel said, her gaze toward the lich not as if she were looking at an ant, but as if she were truly looking at an ant.
"Fine, you said it yourself." The lich's laughter became ten times more grating. The necromancers behind her swiftly dispersed, each taking a position and beginning their incantations.
This was not a duel, nor was it the time or place for one—let alone under such childlike conditions. Lancelote and Roland had initially wanted to step forward and stop Moriel, to try and dissuade her, but they stopped. They could sense that any attempt to persuade her or intervene would only result in being struck down.
All they could do now was retreat, falling back into the remaining allied forces, leading the others away with them.
What Moriel could afford to disregard, others certainly could not. Or rather, others must not.
These were master-level mages of the highest caliber. Any one of them, given thirty seconds to prepare their spells, could easily reduce the entire remaining allied army to ashes.
The incantations of the other necromancers rose and fell in a peculiar rhythm, harmonizing like background music complementing a main melody. And that melody was the voice of the lich—so harsh and grating that it barely resembled sound at all. It was like the sound of a broken gong being smashed against a shattered pot with reckless abandon.
From Vadenina's mouth, the relentless chanting poured forth. She spread her arms wide, immersed in her performance like a singer lost in their song, facing the deepest darkness at the center of it all.
This eerie, discordant symphony of incantations stirred up vortexes of black mist in the air, layering upon one another, resonating, and then returning to the lich—the ugliest, most terrifying singer of them all. Around her, the darkness thickened, condensing into something nearly identical to the presence surrounding the Necromancer King—an abyssal blackness, darker than dark itself.
But unlike the void around the Necromancer King, this darkness was not just an all-consuming blackness—it pulsed and writhed, as if alive, like a demon in its own right. It swelled, surged, and finally coalesced into a massive black sphere, looming high above Moriel and Grutt.
Countless skeletal remains scattered across the ground suddenly twitched back to life. Like swarming ants, they piled upon one another, melting and fusing in a strange, wax-like manner before reforming into something new. However, the reconstituted skeletons were now significantly smaller. The remnants of undead that Grutt had previously swept away all coalesced again, but this time, instead of countless individual undead, they gave rise to just over a dozen enormous skeletal dragons.
Yet upon closer inspection, these skeletal dragons were no longer made of bone. Their bodies shimmered like translucent jade, wavering in and out of sight, resembling the spectral forms of banshees. These were no longer mere skeletal dragons; they had ascended to a more terrifying existence—ghost dragons.
A dozen of these ghost dragons took flight, spiraling around the massive black sphere in the air, descending slowly toward the ground. Their descent was gradual, but the space beneath the sphere was already entirely engulfed in its ominous shadow. Against this vast, oppressive presence, Moriel and Grutt seemed like nothing more than two insignificant specks.
"How do you like this Song of the Undead? I know that no magic in existence today can truly harm you. I have no interest in using the current magical system to compete with ancient dragon note magic. But have you forgotten that we are all servants of the Undead King? The power of this thirty-second hymn to the undead has already summoned the might of the Undead King himself.
Each of these ghost dragon possesses power equal to what they had in life. So what if you were once the strongest of the Black Dragon clan? Do you think you can stand against the greatness of the Black Star…"
Surrounded by darkness that resonated with the massive black sphere in the sky, the lich reveled in her role as the emissary of this shadowed world. She was brimming with confidence—but that arrogance lasted only for a few seconds.
Two earth-shaking roars erupted as two figures shot up into the sky.
If Grutt's roar was like an unstoppable, razor-sharp blade cleaving through the darkness, then Moriel's voice was a raging, exploding tidal wave surging into the sky, drowning out everything in its path.
There was no light around Moriel's body, yet she seemed even more radiant than Grutt, whose fight spirit blazed brilliantly. Though her human form was small and insignificant, the force of her leap was so immense that it felt as if the entire ground had caved in beneath her.
If Grutt's roar was like an indomitable divine sword, then Moriel's was like an infinite, unstoppable sea, boiling and exploding with boundless fury. One was sharp and lethal; the other, vast and overwhelming. And yet, they complemented each other flawlessly, as if these two figures, these two roars, had always been one.
With a thunderous explosion, the immense blackness shattered.
But it was not the black sphere itself that was shattered by the sound—it was the ghost dragons around it. Grutt's blinding streak of light shot skyward, weaving through the shadowy dragons at incredible speed. In an instant, all ghost dragons disintegrated simultaneously, their collective destruction sending shockwaves rippling through the entire undead sea.
Yet, what truly stunned the lich was not the deafening blast—it was the obliteration of the black sphere.
Moriel's small frame had plunged straight into the abyssal darkness that seemed capable of devouring all. And then, without a sound, that darkness shattered.
A forbidden spell, cast in unison by several grandmaster-level—perhaps even archmaster-level—necromancers, had been destroyed by these two individuals. And they had done it with nothing but their own strength.
The shock was not only mental—it was physical as well. Vadenina and the other necromancers trembled in unison, and then, slowly, they began to crumble.
Vadenina's lich body shattered completely, like a biscuit crushed underfoot, breaking into countless fragments. The other necromancers suffered the same fate. This was the backlash of the Black Star. Their consciousness and bodies had long been entwined with that abyssal darkness, and now, as the darkness was obliterated, so were they.
In the blink of an eye, the black aura in the sky and the ghost dragons were utterly destroyed—not even a trace of debris remained. Only two figures slowly descended from the sky.
The fight spirit surrounding Grutt had dimmed considerably, while Moriel remained unchanged. There was no light emanating from her body, yet she still outshone everything else—radiant beyond comparison.
"Your body has fully recovered?" Grutt asked calmly, his gaze fixed on Moriel.
Blood covered his body—shattering those spectral dragons had not been an easy task. But no matter what, even with an ancient dragon standing beside him, he remained as he always was: strong, flawless, overwhelming, and invincible.
"Ah, it has been thousands of years since I felt this good." Moriel's laughter rolled through the darkness. "After these past few days, those two necromancers finally managed to barely succeed in practicing a fraction of True Meditation at the last moment. Together, they used their lives to break the seal."
"You mean… both of them…?" Vadenina's voice came intermittently from her crumbling body.
Only her broken form continued to slowly reassemble, while the other necromancers had already turned to dust. Even as servants of the Necromancer King, they could not withstand the backlash of the Black Star's aura. If not for the lich's soul gaining independent consciousness and her mastery of the Spirit Gathering Art reaching the level of a grandmaster, she too would have shared their fate.
She was aware of Sandru's purpose for leaving, but she had chosen not to pursue him. First, she lacked the confidence to confront both Sandru and Agrenel outside of Dehya Valley. Second, she understood that even if Sandru was truly willing to sacrifice himself to break the seal, there was no guarantee that the seal would be completely undone.
Breaking the seal required someone who had fully mastered True Meditation, but neither Sandru nor any other necromancer had completed its practice. Moreover, Moriel's life force within the seal had long been nearly exhausted, so Vadenina had not been overly concerned. But now, seeing the Black Dragon Princess in such a state—her body completely restored, her power seemingly greater than it had been five centuries ago when she faced Akibard—Vadenina finally realized that Sandru had not been the only one to sacrifice himself to break the seal. Agrenel had as well.
"Yes. Two people—two very interesting people. Half a day ago, they combined all the magic and life force they had accumulated over ten days of True Meditation and clashed against each other atop my sealed magic array. At last, they shattered the sealing sphere that Akibard had crafted using my blood and soul. It was a complete unraveling—every bit of power within it has returned to me. And after all these years of recuperation, I believe my strength is finally sufficient."
"So you used them as an experiment, didn't you?" Grutt asked. "You wanted to test the gap between your power and that guy's, didn't you?"
"Yes." Moriel sighed, looking at the darkest mass of blackness before her and shaking her head. Her fiery red hair swayed, and even her expression of disdain and regret radiated an overwhelming intensity. "But I am so disappointed. Just as I had sensed before—someone like this becoming the Necromancer King… it's nothing short of an insult to such an artifact."
"Impossible! That is the power of the great Necromancer King! No matter how strong you are, you could never stand against such power!" Vadenina wailed, lying on the ground.
"Idiot, can't you feel it? The power of the Dark Star is far too weak. From the moment that sword hilt was picked up, I already sensed it—I felt how the entire continent's lifelines were shrouded in this dark aura, just as they were when the Elf King once wielded the Dark Star. But it seems that because the vessel is too feeble, the power itself is nowhere near as vast. It's like a newborn cub... no, calling it a mere puppet would be more fitting. That thing can't even fully retain its self-awareness, and yet it dares to claim the title of Necromancer King? Back then, even without the Dark Star, the Elf King's power was no less than mine. Compared to him, the boy grasping the sword hilt now is like an ant before an elephant."
"It's just a pity that at the time, I no longer had the strength to do anything. The seal and the wounds from my last battle had left me completely drained. I truly believed I would spend the rest of my days buried underground, waiting for death, regretting that I would never be able to fulfill my agreement with Akibard. But who would have thought that, at such a time, necromancers would come to unseal me—and not just any necromancers, but two acting guild leaders. They were supposed to become servants of the Necromancer King, turning into half-undead beings, existing eternally. Yet instead, they used their very lives to awaken me."
Moriel let out a long sigh. "And in these past days, they have taught me something else—aside from Akibard, these human monkeys are not entirely worthless."
"Those are truly interesting individuals. If I could, I really wouldn't want them to die. I'd love to listen to their conversations with each other. Even thousands of years ago, it was rare to experience such interesting moments," Moriel said with a nostalgic expression on her face. It was surprising to see such a sentimental emotion on her—a being so powerful that it almost defied understanding. It felt quite strange to witness this side of her.
"I've realized for the first time that humans, such lowly creatures, are actually very interesting. More so than any life form I've encountered. Though their lives span only a few decades, almost all of their desires, instincts, can intertwine in countless fascinating ways, accumulating to form a variety of experiences and outcomes. From them, I can learn a lot. I can see their lives, lives formed by endless desires and entanglements. It's incredible to think that their lives, so full of vitality and complexity, are more alive, more interesting, and more thought-provoking than our thousand-year-long existence."
"No. These two traitors," Vadenina suddenly screamed. Her collapsing form was slowly starting to regain its shape, but it was only the outline. The power and magical structure within her had long been shattered, leaving her little more than a lowly corpse witch. "They failed to fulfill the fate Akibard bestowed upon them. Instead, they fled, even using their own lives to break the seal. They are a disgrace to the Dehya Valley, a disgrace to necromancers!"
"You are a disgrace to humanity. No, you are a disgrace to all life forms!" Moriel suddenly turned her head, shouting at Vadenina. The force of her roar was so immense that the dried muscles on the lich's body began to crumble and fall off. The scream shattered the partially reformed body of Vadenina once more, causing it to disintegrate into fragments.
"You keep mentioning Akibard—do you really understand his meaning and thoughts? You're just using his name as a pathetic shield for your foolish actions. You're not even a villain. Villains at least admit the evil they commit. You, on the other hand, are nothing but a petty person, trapped in your own insignificant, ant-like world, still thinking you're some kind of great figure?" Moriel looked at the lich with utter contempt. "Is this really what human women have come to? It seems that giving birth to offspring for males is all you're good for. Women who think they are capable of great things, who consider themselves exceptional, are usually the source of chaos. But don't worry, I'll soon reduce you to the same state as these piles of undead remains."
Just as Moriel raised her hand, the deepest darkness suddenly split open.