Chapter 1036: Retreat
The creature before them was a Ghost Behemoth. Though it had lost its physical body and its brute strength was diminished, its ability to withstand damage had increased several times over. Physical attacks were now almost useless against it, and its resistance to spells far exceeded that of ordinary Behemoth beasts—a truly troublesome opponent.
Dida La unleashed his full power, fighting at a level comparable to a Sky Rank mage. For now, he could hold his own against the Ghost Behemoth, but only just.
The orange flames Dida La conjured had little effect on the Ghost Behemoth. They could only slowly erode the death aura clinging to its body. Yet the death aura here was so thick it was almost as oppressive as the Undead Plane itself. To think they could wear down the Ghost Behemoth this way—it was laughable...
The Ghost Behemoth only had close combat capabilities. Suppressed by spells and unable to approach, it could do nothing but charge again and again, forcing the battle into a stalemate.
But the Ghost Behemoth was not the only threat here. The real danger came from the endless tide of orc undead surging forward—these were the ones they truly had to fear.
Most of the group's strength was focused on the Ghost Behemoth, leaving them little power to clear out the orc undead closing in from behind.
They retreated while casting spells. After more than ten minutes, the Ghost Behemoth was still chasing them like a rabid dog, launching reckless charge after charge. Meanwhile, more and more orc undead caught up from the rear...
Suddenly, Leon's expression changed slightly.
The undead pouring in from behind like a swarm of ants seemed to be getting organized.
The orc skeleton soldiers, greatest in number, were slowly forming into the shape of an army—like long serpents, each undead orc leaving just enough space between them to charge forward without falling into chaos.
The gaps between the squads of orc skeleton soldiers were reserved for higher-tier undead. Packs of undead wolf riders and skeletal Kodo beasts thundered down these open lanes, their speed instantly doubling.
Before, the orc skeleton soldiers were packed together in a frantic rush. Many would trip and be trampled to death by those behind them, creating utter chaos.
As for those high-tier undead, if they wanted to break out, they had to carve a bloody path through the orc skeletons—making it impossible to reach full speed.
But now, everything had suddenly become orderly. Even the useless Skeletal Wyverns, which had been floundering in the sky like headless flies, began to form ranks and land on the ground.
Towering undead orcs mounted the backs of Skeletal Wyverns. Bone archers, spear throwers, and Death Shamans joined them, instantly forming massive squadrons of undead Windriders.
A hail of bone arrows and bone spears rained down from the sky, while a crowd of Death Shamans with skin stretched tight over their bones and eyes burning with green fire kept casting necromantic spells.
With such an obvious change in the undead, anyone who wasn't blind could see trouble was brewing. Someone—or something—had appeared to command these undead...
Sure enough, in the rear ranks of the undead horde, a short undead orc appeared, looking like a dried corpse. He wore a tattered robe, gripped a pale bone staff in one hand and dragged a green-flamed skull in the other.
"Oh hell, another Sky Rank—and it's a Death Shaman..."
A terrified scream rang out from the Odin Kingdom's ranks, and everyone's faces changed instantly.
A Death Shaman, the one who commands the orc undead—a Sky Rank Death Shaman could control every undead here, even the Ghost Behemoth.
See, a swarm of undead rushing around like headless flies is nothing compared to undead under the command of a leader.
The latter's combat strength is at least three times higher than the former!
And that's not even counting the Death Shaman's own power...
Before anyone could react, the Death Shaman floating in midair waved his short bone staff, sending out a ripple of gray-black light.
Instantly, all the orc undead touched by the light roared in unison. Their pale bones were cloaked in a layer of gray-black radiance.
Their charging speed jumped by thirty percent, and the combined death aura gathered overhead, forming vast clouds of death in the sky. Their momentum doubled.
"Damn, that's Group Death Blessing—he's buffing hundreds of thousands of undead at once..."
Anderson's three faces twisted in horror, all three screaming at once.
"A pure support-type Death Shaman. We're screwed—we need to run, now..."
Leon frowned deeply. This was bad. If it were a combat-oriented Sky Rank Death Shaman, it might be manageable. But this one was purely support.
It had abandoned direct combat, but its command abilities were pushed to the limit. Its true strength lay in the endless orc undead under its control.
Every spell it cast was a buff for the undead.
Which made things even worse, because this Death Shaman could boost these mindless undead to five or even ten times their normal fighting strength!
The end result would be everyone dragged to death. The undead never tire, have no concept of time—whether the chase lasts a year or an hour, it's all the same to them.
But humans are different. Forget a year—within ten days, this Death Shaman could grind everyone here to death!
After casting Group Death Blessing on hundreds of thousands of undead, the Death Shaman raised the skull in his left hand. The Soul Fire inside flickered wildly, emitting strange murmurs. The incantation seemed to echo directly in everyone's soul.
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For a full ten seconds, everyone could only watch helplessly as the Death Shaman finished his incantation.
As the incantation ended, the death aura on the earth began to boil. All across the grasslands, scattered bones started to rush together.
Broken undead were resurrected one after another, shattered bones reassembling into new undead warriors.
Black-gray smoke swept over the grasslands, and in an instant, fifty or sixty thousand more undead appeared...
"Group Undead Resurrection Spell..."
Anderson's voice was trembling now.
On the Odin Kingdom's side, everyone's faces turned deathly pale—utterly terrified.
Morgan stammered under his breath.
"Damn, a pure support Death Shaman is this strong? Reviving tens of thousands of undead at once—how are we supposed to fight that? We're screwed..."
Sure, everyone knew a pure support Death Shaman's power scaled with level, increasing spell range and the number of undead it could control. But no one expected it to be this strong.
Death Shamans like this are rare, even in the Undead Plane. Orcs worship their ancestors—after death, their souls either return to the earth or become ancestral spirits guarding the tribe. They almost never become undead.
A Sky Rank Death Shaman has never appeared in the Northend World—only in records from the Undead Plane. And even there, not even high-ranking undead lords would dare provoke a pure support Death Shaman.
Now everyone understood why—this guy was a complete menace.
Not only could he control the undead army as easily as his own limbs, he could keep buffing them endlessly. With Group Undead Resurrection Spell, unless you burn the bones to ash, he'll just keep reviving whatever you kill.
A swarm of low-tier undead could exhaust even a Sky Rank to death—and no one would be surprised.
As soon as the Death Shaman cast that spell, Didara—who'd been fighting and retreating—made up his mind and pulled out a shimmering silver artifact.
"Retreat!"
Didara roared, hurling the shimmering artifact toward the Ghost Behemoth. Midair, it exploded, transforming into a giant silver net that covered hundreds of meters.
The Ghost Behemoth’s claws pierced through the net’s holes, tearing at it and twisting its shape. But for now, it seemed the net couldn’t be broken easily.
Each of the net’s four corners held a half-meter-long spike, with a statue of an Underground Beast carved at the tip. These beasts are unimaginably heavy—mountain-sized—and sleep for thousands of years, appearing as ordinary peaks from the outside.
The spikes landed at the corners, silver light flickered, and the four statues seemed to come alive, transforming into phantom images of Underground Beasts, pressing down on the earth.
In an instant, the Ghost Behemoth was completely trapped by the net. As it struggled and tore at its prison, the ground within a kilometer shook violently. The artifact fused with the earth, its terrifying weight pinning even a Behemoth in place. Still, the silver net, sturdy as it was, would inevitably be ripped apart sooner or later.
Didara's face was cold as he decisively abandoned the attack, shouting loudly.
"Retreat!"
There was no way to keep fighting under these conditions.
The group fought as they retreated. Without the Ghost Behemoth charging ahead, the pressure eased considerably.
"What now? Let's hear everyone's ideas. We can't keep this up—the undead numbers are overwhelming, and with a Death Shaman leading them, they're boosted by Death Blessing. That's at least five times their normal strength. Plus, with Group Undead Resurrection Spell, they're at ten times!
And these undead never tire—they could chase us forever. We still don't know exactly where we are, but it's definitely not a huge plane. If we can't find a way out, we might be hunted by these undead for eternity.
As long as even one of us is alive, these undead won't give up. They could chase us for decades.
We have to find a way to shake off these damned undead..."
Didara's expression was grim as he spoke, then he swept his gaze over everyone.