"Servants of the Netherworld Witch."
Upon hearing this, Ulriel felt no alarm. Or rather, wasn't it normal that all these undead came from the Netherworld Witch? He certainly could not have guessed that the so-called Four Supreme Commanders and the name "Morrigan" were merely fabrications by a reckless little witch—a mask for stirring trouble.
"Heh, servants of the Netherworld Witch, how intimidating," Ulriel sneered, mocking them further.
"The Holy Verdict Church already dispatched holy knights to suppress her. By now, your master has probably been resealed. So why aren't you trying to rescue her? Why come here to cause chaos in the Sacrifice Kingdom? Were you cowed by the holy knights and now strutting around here?"
"It seems your information is a bit outdated. Is it possible that the Saint-class warrior who went to the Land of Freedom was beaten and fled in shame?"
Hel looked at Ulriel's feigned composure, flashing a malicious smile. The moonlight gleamed off her pale teeth, giving her words a chilling sharpness. Each syllable cut through Ulriel's facade of mockery, piercing his mental armor.
Ulriel's pupils dilated, and he roared in fury:
"Impossible! You're lying! The so-called Netherworld Witch is just a non-Saint, a useless creature. How could she possibly contend with a Saint-class warrior? Unless… she has ascended to Saint-class—but that's impossible! Three hundred years ago, she couldn't even reach Saint-class…"
His body trembled. A witch who had lived over three centuries without dying of old age? There was only one possibility left: she had ascended to Saint-class.
Could it really be true?
If so, why had her undead minions invaded the Sacrifice Kingdom? A vanguard? Were they planning an undead catastrophe there as well? And what about the Mandrake Principality—what would become of it? Ulriel's mind was in chaos.
At that moment, Hel struck.
She extended her pale, skeletal claw and pointed at Ulriel.
[High-Rank Death Magic: Death Finger]
A terrifying green spell shot toward him. Without hesitation, Ulriel yanked a noble standing nearby into front of him. The green light engulfed the noble, who didn't even have time to struggle before his neck bent unnaturally and he died instantly.
"Damn it! Almost fell for it, you cunning undead! If that's your trump card, today you'll remain here."
Faced with life and death, Ulriel came to a realization. Whether the Sacrifice Kingdom fell or not mattered little to him. With his Fourth-Rank strength, he could go anywhere; there was no need to agonize over it. What mattered now was defeating his opponent and surviving—not worrying about hypotheticals.
Quickly, he began forming a crimson magic circle with the mana already gathered on his staff. The circle expanded instantly, drawing in surrounding elemental energy.
[Intermediate Fire Magic: Explosive Nova]
Hundreds of small fireballs shot forth like raindrops, targeting Hel and her undead. They filled the entire main hall, leaving no room for her to dodge.
Hel, however, remained unbothered. Mere fireballs were nothing compared to the mage cannons fired by those half-breed goblins. Even without her usual guards, as a top-tier death mage, she could effortlessly counter such mediocre magic using the body of a Fourth-Rank undead.
She raised her pale hand again, aiming at the shower of fire.
[High-Rank Death Spell: Sighing Bone Wall]
A magic circle rapidly formed at her fingertips. Countless wisps of death energy coalesced into jade-white bones, quickly assembling into a thick wall spanning the entire hall. The fireballs struck the bone wall with muffled thuds, leaving no mark.
"Casting two high-rank spells consecutively?!"
Ulriel's eyes nearly popped out.
What kind of monster was this? Normally, a Fourth-Rank mage needs lengthy preparation and tools to cast high-rank spells. Yet she could instant-cast, consecutively, without pause. Where did she get so much mana?
Seeing the bone wall remain unscathed under his spell, Ulriel sneered:
"Fools. Even if you can cast consecutive high-rank spells, using a barrier like this gives me the time to strike back."
It was time to show her true fire.
Ulriel's eyes fixed on the bone wall. He drank a mana-enhancing potion, then began chanting a spell at lightning speed. A new magic circle formed at his feet.
From it, a flaming spectral knight slowly materialized—over five meters tall, clad in heavy plate armor typical of the Knight Empire. He held a colossal two-handed sword before his chest.
As Ulriel finished the final incantation, the knight's eyes ignited with raging flames, staring at the bone wall with intense hatred.
A deep male voice boomed from the spectral knight:
"Heretic…"
He raised his massive sword over his shoulder and charged at the bone wall.
"…execute."
With that, the knight struck, enveloped in flames, smashing into the bone wall.
Crack.
The bone wall shattered.