Chapter 197 – Allen Defects to the Villains... Again, Again, and Again
"One slash per small fry, one punch per whimpering coward."
Allen made quick work of the undead creatures swarming the street.
By now, the entire town had fallen into complete ruin, as if shedding its false facade and revealing its true, desolate form.
It was obvious—they had walked into a trap the moment they set foot in Redwine Barrel Town.
'Undead Fiend slain. EXP +100.'
'Undead Fiend slain. EXP +100.'
'Undead Fiend slain. EXP +100.'
…
"Is this some kind of anti-magic field? Why can't I use any spells?"
Allen continued hacking through the endless tide of undead. He tried using a portal spell to relocate, but the magic that usually came as naturally as breathing failed to respond at all.
With magic disabled, Allen immediately cast Invisibility to temporarily avoid the onslaught.
Outside the inn, Evanora had led the coven of witches to regroup.
Her white magic domain carved out a small sanctuary where spellcasting was still possible. Even faced with the overwhelming tide of undead, they were still able to resist.
"Hurry up and go get your little lover boy."
Evanora snapped at Agatha. If she hadn't needed to evacuate so many extras, she could have just used a mass teleport spell. No way she'd waste this much time.
The longer they stayed, the more rapidly their mana drained.
Clearly, the enemy hidden in the shadows had long since laid a trap with a magic formation.
Even with her being a half-step Crown Mage, Evanora worried she might meet her end here.
"I told you, we're just fellow disciples!" Agatha snapped back, clearly irritated.
They couldn't escape the boundary. The number of undead monsters just kept growing, swarming them from every direction.
By now, the phantom image of a crown had already appeared above Evanora's head as she poured every ounce of power into maintaining the barrier.
Gu Yi, Geralt, and Agatha kept calling out for Allen in desperation.
But there was no reply, as if he'd already been killed.
"Use the communication stone," Agatha suggested.
Gu Yi pulled the stone from his robes and crushed it in his hand.
Nothing happened. It was like smashing an ordinary rock.
"There's a white magic interdiction array in place. Communication with the outside is impossible."
Evanora looked toward the endless horde of undead, then decisively declared, "We're leaving. We can't risk everyone's lives for one person."
In the next instant, she spread her arms wide, and white-blue light enveloped everyone inside the barrier.
In a flash, they vanished—no one knew where they'd gone.
…
Outside the town, the necromancers watched the scene unfold through a remote viewing spell.
"Damn it, they got away."
"Evanora's on the hunting list, and it's clear her talent is extraordinary. She's already knocking on the door of Crown Mage."
"Doesn't matter. Our real target seems to have vanished."
"Maybe the undead ripped him to pieces and swallowed him whole."
"…"
Necromancers were widely despised across Europa, regarded as blasphemous mages who defiled the dead.
Still, their ability to command undead armies made them a force to be reckoned with.
Especially in a continent often ravaged by disasters and wars—there was never a shortage of corpses. Right outside Redwine Barrel Town was a cemetery, where generations of townspeople had been buried.
It was the perfect foundation for a terrifying force.
"Such a pity that Evanora and Agatha escaped."
Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice joined the conversation. The three necromancers turned in unison to see a shirtless man in soaking-wet hospital pants—Allen—standing there with a regretful expression.
"What a shame," he said. "I was hoping to try the mother-daughter sandwich combo. Tsk tsk…"
"…"
Wait—who the hell are you?
Bro, we're not on the same side. Can you not embarrass us like this?
The necromancers had simply been given a target. They didn't even know who it was supposed to be, let alone care about some dead guy's name.
From beneath their black robes, the necromancers extended skeletal, branch-like hands and tightly gripped their bone staffs, staring at Allen with intense wariness.
"Relax, guys. We're all on the same team here."
Allen casually brushed his wet hair back, unfazed. "I'm a mole planted in Kamar-Taj. My boss is Cyttorak."
"…"
Now they were even more confused.
Cyttorak—the master of the Crimson Cosmos—was a powerful figure in the realm of dark magic. That said, few dared to borrow his power, as the price was steep.
"How do we know you're telling the truth?"
Talk was cheap. They weren't going to just take his word for it.
But if he truly was one of Cyttorak's chosen, they might have to consider bringing him into the organization.
"If you want proof, then I guess I'll just have to put on a little show."
Allen stuck out his rear and yelled, "Come forth, Constipation Kagune!"
Crimson chains burst forth, whipping through the air like tendrils.
Before the necromancers could react, Allen had already closed in on one of them.
"What are you doing?!"
This particular necromancer had an exaggerated bust straining against her tightly-fitted robe, which outlined her curvy figure. Her hood obscured her face, but it was obvious she was a strikingly attractive woman.
The other two necromancers prepared to act.
But Allen casually leaned one arm against a nearby tree, pinning the female necromancer against it. He flicked his wet hair again, droplets flying in every direction.
The female necromancer turned her head away, eyes shut, trying to avoid getting splashed.
"Woman, you've caught my eye."
Allen imitated the voice of a domineering CEO. "I shall conquer you with my burning gaze."
His eyes glowed with a crimson light, like flames spilling from their sockets.
This was his second dark spell—Crimson Fear—courtesy of Cyttorak.
"Get away from me."
The undead woman, clearly one who took pride in her appearance, reached out with slender fingers to push him back. The scent of a well-toned young man filled her lungs, leaving her slightly breathless.
"Still resisting, huh?"
Allen raised his left arm, pressing his armpit to her face, and said confidently, "You'll drown in my masculine charm."
Gag…
Her face contorted as curly armpit hairs scratched her cheek, and she gagged in disgust.
"Whoa now…"
Allen leapt backward, alarmed. "I didn't expect you to be that fertile. My armpit hair made you nauseous? What if you end up pregnant from it?"
"You're disgusting."
The undead woman gasped, trying to settle her stomach.
"Scared the hell out of me," Allen said with a shiver. "For a second, I thought I awakened some kind of 'look-at-someone-and-they-get-pregnant' ability."
Still, the power he wielded was clearly of the Crimson Domain. The necromancers visibly relaxed their guard.
After all, Kamar-Taj strictly prohibited the use of dark magic, fearing it would lead their mages down a path of corruption.
Seeing Allen use deep crimson magic so freely—and without any signs of life force deterioration—made it pretty clear he was a true follower of Cyttorak.
Whether the organization would officially accept Allen, however, wasn't up to them. That would require a formal test.
"I can't wait to become a full-fledged villain."
Allen sighed helplessly. "In the end, it's fate."