Yuri, who had collapsed on the ground, instantly lost his ability to fight. The undead warrior he had been fiercely battling seized the opportunity and thrust his sword towards Yuri's throat.
Just as he was about to be decapitated, a twisted shadow on the ground suddenly coiled around the undead like a giant black hand, firmly restraining its movements.
Shadow Touch!
This was the first spell Lynch had truly mastered since acquiring it, and he had never let up on practicing it. By now, it had reached Second Tier proficiency.
The Second Tier Shadow Touch surpassed a grip strength of 5 degrees, with a maximum force approaching 200 kilograms.
While restraining the enemy, the twisted shadow swiftly branched off into another tendril—a capability unique to the Second Tier Shadow Touch: splitting.
The entry-level Shadow Touch could only control a single tendril, but with Second Tier proficiency, it could manage multiple simultaneously. The exact number of tendrils was determined by the wizard's spiritual power. Currently, Lynch could control up to three tendrils at once.
The black shadow, slithering like a twisting snake, quickly wrapped around Yuri and dragged him back to Lynch's side within moments.
"Are you alright, Yuri?"
With one hand bracing his magic wand to stabilize the battlefield, Lynch knelt down on one knee to inspect Yuri's injuries. At one glance, his expression darkened.
Yuri's chest had been pierced entirely, leaving a fist-sized hole. Ashen-gray energy clung to the edges of the wound, rapidly consuming his cells and flesh, further worsening the injury. It appeared much like a melting black candle.
'This spell effect... could it be... Dissolving Beam?'
Lynch's expression shifted repeatedly, not only because he couldn't address the spell but, more importantly, because Dissolving Beam was unmistakably a High-level Apprentice Magic.
In other words, their current enemy might possess High-level Apprentice-level strength!
Lynch sincerely hoped he was mistaken. Facing such an adversary, he simply couldn't fathom how they could survive the night. Yet, as many unfortunate situations go, what one fears most often becomes reality.
"Tch!"
A disdainful sound echoed from the brush, followed by two figures stepping out.
One was a young man about Lynch's age, skinny and pale, as though prolonged immersion in a dark tomb had drained the natural warmth of youth.
It was none other than their "junior," Richard!
At present, Richard wore a somewhat worn black robe embroidered with dim silver runes. These runes occasionally flickered faintly under the weak light, exuding a hint of mystery. The robe's cuffs and collar showed some wear from extended use.
A necklace made of intricately carved miniature skulls hung around his neck. Each skull emitted a faint blue glow.
Lynch could sense the spiritual waves radiating from this necklace, similar to those emanating from the surrounding undead. It was undoubtedly Richard's necromancy tool, the very object he was using to control the undead.
However, what truly triggered Lynch's vigilance wasn't Richard before him.
His advanced Spirit Perception now allowed him to keenly detect the spiritual power of individuals of similar ranks. As long as the discrepancy in strength wasn't too vast, he could roughly gauge the other's level.
Though Richard's presence wasn't weak, Lynch could tell he remained at the Low-level Apprentice stage—likely possessing merely two to three Basic Will Runes. He was certainly incapable of casting a spell like Dissolving Beam.
So then, where did that spell come from?
Lynch's gaze shifted leftwards towards Richard.
Standing beside Richard was a man—a terrifying man.
He stood nearly three meters tall, towering like a small iron fortress. His face retained the handsome profile of a thirty-year-old, but his deep, cold eyes carried no trace of human emotion, akin to two bottomless frozen lakes.
Beneath his neckline, he no longer possessed the flesh and blood of mortals; his body had been entirely reshaped through alchemy witchcraft.
His chest cavity was hollowed out, replaced by an intricate mechanical structure filled with glowing conduits and transparent containers. These held not blood, but magic liquids of various colors.
His arms were a seamless fusion of flesh and metal, preserving the texture and might of muscle while incorporating the unyielding hardness of metal. His arms were embedded with an arsenal of weapons: sharp daggers, heavy chain hammers, and black gun barrels emitting electric arcs—all fused as integral extensions of his body.
The black gun barrels on his arm shimmered with ashen-gray arcs. Evidently, the Dissolving Beam that injured Yuri came from there!
'What kind of monster is this?!'
The horrifying man radiated an intense oppressive aura simply by standing there, leaving Lynch struggling to breathe under the weight of his presence. At that moment, Lynch realized how feeble and powerless their prior resistance had been.
Meanwhile, Richard also turned his gaze towards them. His eyes swept over the battlefield, his expression darkened.
Sixteen Death Spirit Servants had been deployed, and six had been destroyed—a significant loss after painstaking efforts to craft them. They were originally meant to be used against his mentor someday, but now he'd lost a third of them in this encounter.
If he had known this earlier, he wouldn't have entertained the idea of capturing them alive. The grotesque old lunatic only needed a fixed number of test subjects—live specimens might earn some fleeting praise, but corpses would suffice for handing them over.
Fortunately, it wasn't too late to correct this mistake now.
Retracting his gaze, Richard turned back to Lynch, his words squeezed out between tightly clenched teeth: "I will tear you into pieces."
Were they truly going to die here today?
No!
Though being dragged into this absurd world had disrupted his formerly stable and happy life, Lynch wasn't about to resign himself to defeat.
There was still a chance...
"Clatter!"
A crisp sound rang out as an unfurling scroll floated before Lynch and was swiftly pressed onto the ground by his hand.
Immediately, the Hexagram Magic Array printed on the scroll lit up with an eerie black glow, and dark chains shot out from its center.
A control system spell scroll: Dark Chains.
Chains forged from rusty metal intertwined with dark energy snaked through the air like writhing black serpents. Though Richard dodged swiftly, he still ended up ensnared by the chains.
"You can try!" Even if he couldn't win, Lynch was determined to die with dignity.
Resolutely delivering his retort, Lynch stood and dragged Yuri, turning to flee.
"Arrgh!!"
Richard's enraged scream echoed through the forest, utterly indignant at seeing his prey slip away, especially after suffering such immense losses.
His forehead bulged with veins, his eyes bloodshot: "Damn vermin, I swear I'll kill you with my own hands!"
...
Half an hour later.
In the dense forest, Lynch staggered along with Yuri, both of them exhausted and unsure of their footing. Blood dripped from Yuri's wounds, leaving a trail.
Yuri's face was pale, his body weak. As they passed through a thicket, he nearly tripped over a tree root on the ground but managed to stay upright, thanks to Lynch's strained support.
"Cough! Cough!"
Yuri coughed violently, urging, "Leave me. You won't escape carrying me."
Lynch shook his head. "I don't have the habit of abandoning companions."
Even if he left Yuri behind, he couldn't escape—the Dark Chains wouldn't hold for long.
Besides,
He wasn't planning to escape.
"Where are we headed?" Yuri asked wearily. From the start, he'd noticed they weren't heading towards the Tower, but rather in the opposite direction.
Yuri wasn't wrong; they were indeed heading back—Lynch was leading him to the site of this trial, the Corrupted Forest.
Lynch answered, "The trial."
Two years and six months, 926 days, over 22,000 hours—during all this time, Lynch continuously absorbed all the knowledge he could about this world, striving to improve himself.
Now was the time to test whether those two and a half years of effort had truly amounted to growth.
To test whether his hard work in this world... had truly made a difference.