Chapter 621: Death Redemption
The lengthy incantation, even with Leon’s magic-powered armor assisting him, could only be compressed to six seconds. He couldn’t cast while moving, and in a chaotic, ever-changing battle—especially against an opponent like the Death Knight—standing still to channel a spell for six whole seconds was practically suicide.
What’s worse, Hellfire not only demanded a strict concentration and activity of nearby fire elements, but also required Leon to fix the spell’s target location before casting—once the spell began, he couldn’t change it.
In real combat, no opponent would stand still for six seconds as a living target for your spell. That’s why, despite its devastating power, Hellfire was known as the strongest yet most useless fire spell—a true chicken rib.
If you couldn’t hit your enemy, even the strongest spell was worthless! By the time you finished casting, your opponent would be long gone.
But here in the ship’s cabin, the much smaller space made casting the spell possible—and with enough power to seriously wound the Death Knight in one blow. That’s exactly why Leon chose it.
With the Eye of Death empowering it, low-level fire spells barely scratched the Death Knight—sometimes, it recovered faster than it was hurt. Only a truly destructive spell would do.
Six seconds passed in a flash. The Death Knight’s furious roars and screams grew weaker and weaker, and when the terrifying Hellfire faded, all that remained was a wretched, battered Death Knight.
Its armor was shredded, its body covered in char marks, and its left leg was so scorched it was cracked like charcoal. Even its mount was half burned away, and the soulflame in its skull flickered, ready to go out at any moment.
The outcome was decided.
Death Redemption, as an instant-cast rune spell, can heal undead creatures—including the caster—in a heartbeat. Yet its power varies, and the Death Knight’s version was simply over the top. Down to its last breath, it sprang back to full strength in a blink. Which meant, unless Leon could destroy it before the rune spell’s cooldown ended, the Death Knight was basically immortal.
“Foolish human, you’ve truly enraged me now!”
The Death Knight roared, another rune flaring on its sword. Leon’s eyelid twitched, his face growing even paler.
Legendary Death Redemption had appeared—and judging by the effect, it was the highest tier. The second rune had Leon muttering to himself: don’t let it be another jackpot. If that rune unleashed something just as horrifying, he might as well lie down and wait for death.
Death Redemption has been studied to death by necromancers since the peak age of magic. Even the strongest version has a cooldown of at least six minutes before it can be cast again.
That gave Leon a six-minute window to take out this Death Knight. If he failed, he’d be stuck watching this immortal monstrosity grind him down until his mana ran dry.
Six minutes...
Leon couldn’t help but taste bitterness in his mouth. With the Eye of Death empowering the field, this was a mission impossible.
Anderfa clearly understood the situation too, furiously channeling spells through the Wheel of All Magic—but it barely made a dent.
Leon braced himself, waiting for the Death Knight’s second rune spell. These rune spells were instant-cast—no interrupting them, and no point in trying. Even if you managed to break one, in a blink the Death Knight could cast another.
A crimson ring-shaped rune flared beneath the Death Knight’s feet, and a strange pulse swept out in an instant, covering hundreds of meters like a shockwave.
Leon’s face grew even paler—he was starting to look a little green.
His grip on the Dragon Staff trembled. Leon hadn’t felt this powerless in ages. With knowledge leagues ahead of his era, he could always find a strategy—until now.
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But this time was different—even knowing what was happening, Leon felt a deep sense of helplessness.
The enemy was simply too strong—brute force crushed all tactics, every clever scheme squashed flat.
“Evil Aura! Dammit, it’s Evil Aura—the range is massive. Even if it’s not the absolute top tier, it’s close enough!”
With the crimson rune beneath its feet, the Death Knight’s charge speed shot up by fifty, maybe sixty percent—and its sword slashes came just as fast.
Worse still, wisps of black mist curled around the Death Knight. Leon knew what that meant—Evil Aura not only ramped up its attack and movement speed, but also multiplied its healing rate several times over!
As the murky pulse swept outward, terrified shouts echoed from the Dragonblood Orcs in the distance.
“Master Merlin, help! Hubert can’t hold out much longer!”
All the undead—speed and attack ramped up by fifty or sixty percent—caught the Dragonblood Orcs off guard. In the blink of an eye, three overly enthusiastic Bone Fiends slapped them four or five times each.
If the Dragonblood Orcs hadn’t first fused a drop of Three-Headed Golden Dragon’s blood, then bathed in the blood of gods and demons, their bodies wouldn’t have been so absurdly tough. As it was, the Bone Fiends’ enthusiastic greetings left their skin an unnatural shade of red—but they were still alive.
“Ah! You brainless sacks of bones, go die for the great Hubert!”
Hubert flailed in panic, swinging Slaughter like a windmill. The force alone was enough to whip up gusts that sliced like a thousand blades.
This was Hubert’s own signature move—he’d once bragged to Leon about it: the legendary Meat Grinder Windmill.
Its only flaw was lack of stamina, but in Hubert’s hands, the carnage was impressive—even Leon had to admit it.
Aside from the undead smashed to bits by Slaughter, those with only broken limbs didn’t stay down for long. The black mist swirling around them accelerated their healing—they bounced back in no time.
Normally, any undead within ten meters of Hubert would be doomed. But now, their boosted movement and attack speed—and healing multiplied six or seven times—turned the tables. Hubert was under real pressure; even swinging Slaughter like mad, he couldn’t keep up with the undead whose combat power had shot through the roof.
“Master Merlin, please save your most loyal servant Hubert! Hubert doesn’t want to die!”
The Dragonblood Orcs attacked with wild abandon, their cries growing more desperate.
The one who usually tried to shirk work was now fighting the hardest, even sucking up to Leon in terror.
Unfortunately, neither Leon nor Frost Dragon Reina, nor even the alchemical golem, paid him the slightest attention.
Frost Dragon Reina’s eyes were icy cold as she transformed into her dragon form. But her strength and the power of her frost spells were a shadow of their former glory.
Where once a single swipe of her claw could crush dozens of undead, now it barely finished off ten or so. The rest, if not killed outright, would recover in a few seconds under Evil Aura and charge back into the fray.
On the other side, the alchemical golem—silent, tireless, a match for the Wheel of All Magic—unleashed torrents of instant-cast fire spells. Yet the encircling undead pressed ever closer; where once a hundred meters had been reduced to ash, now the firestorm couldn’t keep them at bay.
Worse yet, the Gate of the Undead kept spewing out fresh monsters. Most weren’t high-level, but there were already sixty or seventy thousand of them. Thanks to Evil Aura, the party’s kill rate couldn’t keep up with the influx. The undead numbers soared—enough to make even a Star Sage want to turn tail and run.
Aside from the undead smashed to bits by Slaughter, those with only broken limbs didn’t stay down for long. The black mist swirling around them accelerated their healing—they bounced back in no time.
Normally, any undead within ten meters of Hubert would be doomed. But now, their boosted movement and attack speed—and healing multiplied six or seven times—turned the tables. Hubert was under real pressure; even swinging Slaughter like mad, he couldn’t keep up with the undead whose combat power had shot through the roof.
“Master Merlin, please save your most loyal servant Hubert! Hubert doesn’t want to die!”
The Dragonblood Orcs attacked with wild abandon, their cries growing more desperate.
The one who usually tried to shirk work was now fighting the hardest, even sucking up to Leon in terror.
Unfortunately, neither Leon nor Frost Dragon Reina, nor even the alchemical golem, paid him the slightest attention.
Frost Dragon Reina’s eyes were icy cold as she transformed into her dragon form. But her strength and the power of her frost spells were a shadow of their former glory.
Where once a single swipe of her claw could crush dozens of undead, now it barely finished off ten or so. The rest, if not killed outright, would recover in a few seconds under Evil Aura and charge back into the fray.
On the other side, the alchemical golem—silent, tireless, a match for the Wheel of All Magic—unleashed torrents of instant-cast fire spells. Yet the encircling undead pressed ever closer; where once a hundred meters had been reduced to ash, now the firestorm couldn’t keep them at bay.
Worse yet, the Gate of the Undead kept spewing out fresh monsters. Most weren’t high-level, but there were already sixty or seventy thousand of them. Thanks to Evil Aura, the party’s kill rate couldn’t keep up with the influx. The undead numbers soared—enough to make even a Star Sage want to turn tail and run.