Chapter 462: Roar
When the skeleton devoured Solan Monty, the power of the bloodline curse within Solan Monty's soul had already become impure. Barris, possessing the avatar of the Wasteland Lord, intended to use the bloodline curse as a medium to transfer his soul into the skeleton. That was why, at the time, the skeleton began to sprout flesh.
At the crucial moment of soul and vessel fusion, just as it was about to reach Sky Rank, the trick Leon played inside Solan Monty's body came into effect, causing the fusion to fail. The skeleton suffered backlash, its power plummeting from nearly Sky Rank to below level thirty-eight...
This was actually the real reason Leon never killed Solan Monty! Back on the eleventh floor of the Wizard's Spire, when they had just escaped the illusion, Solan Monty tried to kill him with a dragon breath. Given Leon's personality, he would never tolerate such a threat nearby and wanted to finish Solan Monty off right then.
Yet during the fight, Leon accidentally discovered something strange about Solan Monty. Sensing there must be a huge secret hidden, he spared Solan Monty's life—at least until Lord Shaun awakened...
Thinking about it now is almost funny. Solan Monty, who spent his days enduring in silence, probably never imagined that, right up to his dying breath, he was nothing more than a sacrificial pawn.
And he didn’t disappoint Leon either—once the skeleton appeared, he rushed straight at it without hesitation...
Dazzling spells burst forth one after another, torrents of magic surging endlessly. Leon couldn't help but frown; he hadn't expected the skeleton, even after suffering backlash, to still be so powerful. Half its body was trapped underground, yet the strength it displayed far surpassed that of the previous Lich.
Back then, all eleven members of the party ganged up on the Lich, and it was nowhere near this difficult.
Luckily, the skeleton’s movements were restricted. If the rest of its body got free—even with just peak level thirty-seven strength—it would be more than enough to wipe the floor with them.
"Crack..."
The battle dragged on for more than half an hour. Even Leon was running low on mana—after all, hammering away at a skeleton’s skull for thirty minutes straight isn’t something just anyone can pull off. As another round of savage spells rained down, a faint sound finally echoed through the chaos...
A barely visible crack appeared on the skeleton’s perfectly smooth skull. The sight fired everyone up, and they redoubled their efforts, hurling spells at the skeleton’s head with renewed vigor.
With half its body trapped, the skeleton was like a stationary target, absorbing all kinds of magical attacks. But its bones were terrifyingly tough—after half an hour of relentless pounding, it finally took real damage: a tiny crack.
"It won’t last much longer..." a voice rang out overhead—Councilor Weiss in his wind elemental form, brimming with joy but still unleashing spell after spell. Waves of wind magic crashed down relentlessly.
His attacks came from tricky angles. The spells weren’t high-level—just things like Burst Gale and Wind Blade—but every shot struck right where the crack was, shattering bone with each hit.
As the seconds ticked by, that barely noticeable crack soon grew—stretching several meters, looking downright horrifying.
At that moment, the young mage stepped into Weiss’s line of sight. Seeing him less than five meters from the skeleton’s head, Weiss’s heart skipped a beat—then he calmed down. He’d seen what this young mage could do, especially in the last few fights. Despite his age, the kid’s skill and experience were way beyond his own...
One after another, Fireblast spells trailed long tails of flame, smashing into the crack on the skeleton’s head. The explosions thundered, bone fragments flew, and the skeleton let out a furious roar. Its twin soul-fires churned wildly, making Weiss’s heart pound with dread...
He knew exactly what this meant—the skeleton was about to unleash Pale Wraithflame. Weiss couldn’t help but worry for the young mage: less than five meters away, if the flood of Pale Wraithflame hit, even a Seventh Rank Title Archmage might be frozen solid in an instant.
He’d seen the power of Pale Wraithflame before—it was terrifying enough to shred even elemental shields...
They clearly had the upper hand now; with enough time, extinguishing the skeleton’s soul-fire wouldn’t be a problem. But the young mage’s reckless charge was just too impatient.
No, I have to warn him!
The young mage was the heart of the team—if they lost him, who knew if they could keep the skeleton under control.
Weiss, hidden in the sky, was just about to shout a warning when he saw the young mage pull out a book radiating pure death energy. It felt bottomless, overflowing with death itself. Two streams of black smoke burst from the book, and Weiss instantly recognized two familiar presences...
His eyes went wide, completely stunned—he forgot all about warning Leon.
"Th-that... that's a Death Knight, and that's a Lich—how is this possible!" Weiss could hardly believe his eyes, staring at the two undead behind Leon. He could feel their power, both on par with his own at his peak. In fact, if he’d faced that Lich at full strength, he’d have run for his life...
Could they really be... Matthew Merlin’s summons?
Weiss couldn’t quite believe it, but there it was—the young mage had pulled out that mysterious book, and the two undead had appeared. It was almost too bizarre to process...
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Suddenly, Weiss realized the young mage before him seemed... different.
Honestly, Leon’s methods were downright scary. With just those two undead, he could probably stroll through the Kingdom of Andalusia without breaking a sweat.
"Barris, looks like you’ll never get another shot at resurrection..."
After summoning the Death Knight and Lich, Leon chanted an arcane rune and instantly entered an infinite state. The Doombringer Staff in his hand erupted with dazzling light—a spark flared, then swelled, unleashing a wave of heat. Next, a Tier Five spell, Fire Dragon, crashed into the crack on the skeleton’s skull with a thunderous boom. Sparks and bone fragments flew everywhere...
In a flash, more fire spells followed, pounding the skeleton’s skull one after another.
The relentless explosions echoed, deafening and fierce.
"Roar..."
The skeleton was completely enraged, letting out a howl of agony. Staring at the young mage less than five meters away, its massive body lurched forward, bringing its flashing soul-fire dangerously close to Leon.
This skeleton was deadly from head to toe—especially those two icy soul-fires, which could devour even a Tier Five Title Archmage like Solan Monty!
But...
A string of deep, resonant incantations echoed. The Lich, cloaked in black robes and wielding a bone staff, finished casting between the flicker of twin soul-fires. Dozens of bone spears, their tips wreathed in black smoke, materialized at his sides. With a guttural snarl, he sent them flying—faster than lightning.
Their target: the two blazing soul-fires in the skeleton’s eye sockets...
Almost as soon as the bone spears shot out, the skeleton let out a deafening, agonized roar. Caught off guard, its soul-fires were struck—splintering, sparks flying, much of the flame spilling out and dying, turning into blackened, charcoal-like fragments.
The Death Knight raised his sword, and his Nightmare steed snorted a cloud of sulfur, then surged forward. With a thunderous crash, it slammed into the skeleton’s massive skull—"crack!"—the already terrifying fracture spread even further...
The skeleton’s raised arm froze in midair, then crashed to the ground, sending up clouds of dust. Its soul-fires faded in silence. At the same time, half its skull split open, shards of bone raining down. In seconds, only half its head remained.
Dead...
Everyone—including Leon—let out a long sigh of relief. It had been a grueling battle, draining everyone’s mana.
With a soft "thud," the golden Royal Crown perched atop the skeleton’s head tumbled down, shrinking rapidly in midair before landing at its normal size.
Leon bent down to pick up the crown, wiped the sweat from his brow, and finally managed a smile.
Roar!
But just then, a hysterical roar rang in his ears. Leon went pale, his brows furrowing. He wasn’t alone—everyone else looked just as stricken.
The roar came from deep beneath their feet...
"Wasteland Lord—no, it’s Barris! That’s his voice!" Dalson broke out in a cold sweat, as if facing the world’s worst nightmare. His mage robes were soaked, clinging to his back. Pale-faced and trembling, he stammered: "H-how did he get into the Wizard’s Spire?"
Everyone could tell—the roar wasn’t coming from the Necrorealm, but from the very bottom of the Wizard’s Spire!
Dean was drenched in sweat, too panicked to speak. They’d just defeated a terrifying skeleton and claimed the crown, opening the way to the next floor—only to find Barris, wielding the power of the Wasteland Lord, waiting below.
They’d seen that avatar’s power firsthand—even a Level Thirty-Eight magical beast could be killed with a single gesture. What chance did they have...?