Azure Scepter

Page 32

He screamed and threw down his holy emblem: "We surrender! We surrender!"

"Surrender! We surrender!" A frantic and shrill voice rang in my ears.

Almost simultaneously, all the skeletons ceased their resistance. The militiamen nearby immediately seized the opportunity and destroyed another large number of skeletons.

Trier stopped and found that the once seemingly endless expanse of skeletons had dwindled to almost nothing—just a dozen steps away, the Silent Whisperers trembled in fear.

"Why didn't they choose to run away? That's so strange," he thought.

With this thought in mind, he glanced at the information panel:

[The Fearful Slaughter effect was successful; Caster is now in a state of fear.]

[The Fearful Massacre was successful; Fran has been plunged into a state of fear.]

The paladin thought to himself, "It seems that not only dragons are cowardly lizards, but cultists are too."

"Your Excellency, you are a paladin, we beg for your forgiveness!" the leader of the cultists cried out in a hasty and shrill voice. "Please forgive our mistakes!"

"Cast, you damned traitor!" the flag-bearer roared. "You deserve to die! Don't you have any compassion? How could you so cruelly kill someone you've known for over a decade? Do you even deserve pity?"

"This is a complex issue, it's a necessary evil, and I'm very sorry..."

At this moment, the neatly arranged militia had completely reached the cultists, and the twenty-odd cult spellcasters all obediently threw down their staffs, holy symbols, and protective weapons.

After a morning of bloody fighting, the militia had suffered heavy losses, with only slightly more than half remaining. However, after a series of battles, they had become extremely convinced of Trier's abilities, and although their enemy was now face to face, the militia did not immediately attack because the paladin had not yet spoken.

Trill silently counted the number of cult members—that was roughly the number needed to control the skeletons and walkers, and there shouldn't be any omissions.

He glanced around again and found that the other party had not prepared any desperate measures.

The paladin nodded slightly.

"Your Excellency!?" Little Soms, his face covered in blood, asked incredulously, "Are we supposed to let them go?"

“We are spellcasters, and we can help you resolve this crisis,” Caster said. “From an efficiency standpoint, spellcasters are indispensable everywhere. Too much blood has been shed; it’s time to stop the bleeding. For example, your people are injured, and I happen to have prepared many healing spells.”

Caster gave a shy smile and said to the flag bearer and little Soms, "Besides, a paladin cannot kill prisoners; it would diminish his glory..."

With a flash of light, the longsword pierced Caster's neck, and the cultist's words were cut short by an incredulous and desperate "hmph."

The next moment, Trier swiftly pulled the longsword from Caster's neck, twisted his waist and, without hesitation, delivered a powerful cleaving blow to the cultists in front of him. The cold steel swept across the warm flesh in an instant, and with a buzzing sound, Caster's head thudded to the ground.

Blood mist filled the sky, and bits of flesh splattered everywhere.

As if on cue, the paladins' movements sent a flurry of long-handled weapons flying at the cultists, their boots slamming heavily onto their staffs and holy symbols.

The screams lasted only a short time.

A dozen seconds later, all the cult members were dead.

“There is no mercy for villains,” the paladin said to Caster’s corpse.

At the same time, he added in his mind, "It's time to upgrade."

Chapter 57: Undead

The brick pavement was uneven, and the warm blood still carried a hint of rust. The corpses of the Silent Whisperers were scattered haphazardly across the street. A few painful groans seemed to drift on the breeze. Trier walked quietly among the cultists' bodies, patiently finishing off each one.

A moment later, the paladin carrying the blood-stained longsword nodded in satisfaction—all the cultists were dead beyond any doubt, and the three cultists who were pretending to be dead provided him with an additional nearly 1000 experience points.

After a morning of fierce fighting, he now has a full 23000 experience points, enough to level up two levels.

"Add more points!" Trier thought to himself.

[xp-7400]

[Paladin lv5→lv6]

[Based on your main class advancement, you gain the spell-like ability "Guardian Aura"]

[Guardian Aura: When you are conscious, friendly beings around you receive an additional bonus based on your "Protection of Faith" when making saving throws. Current bonus: 4]

[Based on your primary class and Intelligence modifier, you gain 5 free skill points.]

Guardian Aura is the paladin's core skill. Its effect is simple and direct: it grants all allies a significant amount of saving throws. This means that as long as a paladin's words and actions align with their oath, they and their companions are unlikely to be affected by spells or other supernatural forces.

"I'm a true paladin now," Trier thought to himself. "Keep going!"

[xp-13500]

[Paladin lv6→lv7]

[Based on your sacred oath, you have gained the unique sacred oath trait "Endless Vengeance"]

[Endless Vengeance: You gain supernatural focus on the designated enemy, making it difficult for them to escape your pursuit; you also gain additional attack and defense advantages against the designated enemy based on focus. This effect does not stack with the guiding power "Oath of the Enemy".]

[Based on your primary class and Intelligence modifier, you gain 5 free skill points.]

"Put all your skill points into the Orco Cross Sword Technique."

[Orco Cross Sword Technique 36→46]

[You have achieved proficiency in the Orco Cross Sword Technique and have acquired a unique specialty based on this sword style.]

[Gain Personal Feat: Orco Cross (Proficient): You may substitute a Focus check for a Reflex check.]

[Note 1: The Orco Cross Sword Technique is a practical swordsmanship invented by Losevie Lorinman, the founder of the Kingdom of Orco. It places particular emphasis on using wit, intellect, and intuition to defeat monsters that are difficult for humans to overcome. According to some masters of the Orco Cross Sword Technique, time even seems to slow down when using it.]

[Note 2: Before venturing to the Dark Lands to establish the seventh human kingdom, Lorraine was a world-renowned swordswoman. According to some distant and vague rumors, after undergoing eight severe trials capable of destroying kingdoms, she finally found the ultimate darkness lurking behind the Dark Lands and, with the help of a certain fairy lord, successfully defeated the darkness possessing near-divine power—it can be said that the Orco Cross Sword Technique is the culmination of Lorraine's combat history.]

The experience gained from the bloody battle was wiped out in an instant, but Trier felt an unprecedented power.

He gripped his longsword, focused his attention, and carefully observed the battle behind him.

—A dozen or so zombies and corpse demons are besieging the undead demons summoned by "Growing Cold".

In an instant, time seemed to slow down, and the essence beneath the complex battle surface was revealed once again—unlike before, the chaotic lines and nodes representing energy now seemed exceptionally clear, as if a grime-covered glass had suddenly been wiped clean, and countless pieces of information flooded into his mind in an instant.

Trier even felt a kind of omniscience that only occurs when casting a spell.

Almost instantly, he suddenly had a premonition—the Death Servant Demon was doomed. He seemed to see the Death Servant Demon being knocked down by a corpse demon, and then being captured and dismembered by the walking corpses.

About a second later, a corpse demon wearing blood-red plate armor seized the moment when the Death Servant Demon swung its wooden club, rolled to the Demon's feet, and suddenly swung its halberd, stabbing the Demon's foot. Then, it pushed off the ground and slashed horizontally, shattering the Death Servant Demon's kneecap.

The undead demon instantly collapsed, and the zombies swarmed over it like ants. The summoned monster had barely begun to wail when it was torn to pieces by the undead and banished back to the other world.

After defeating the powerful undead demon, the undead, now uncontrolled, began to wander aimlessly.

“My understanding of martial arts has been further enhanced—almost to the point of being able to foresee the future!” Trier felt a sense of disbelief. “If I were to charge into the skeleton horde now with full buffs, I probably wouldn’t even get hurt.”

"Although we didn't find any extra magic storage stones on the cultist's corpse, even with my current melee weapon skills, along with Fythia, Harlan, and Noy, we should be able to easily take down that strangely shaped high-level undead."

As his thoughts raced, Trier looked up at the militia in front of him. The surviving militiamen were all silently and earnestly watching him, as if they were looking at a saint who had descended to earth.

"Your Excellency Trier, have we won?" the standard-bearer asked.

After a moment's hesitation, Trier replied, "No, there's one last step—we need to go back and help."

"Victory is beckoning to us!" the flag bearer shouted to the militiamen behind him. "We are now heroes who have defended the town!"

Now that the most dangerous journey for the militia is over, looking at the enthusiastic survivors, Trier suddenly felt an indescribable sense of guilt.

He couldn't help but laugh at himself inwardly: "I didn't feel any remorse when I made the decision to send them to their deaths, but now that everyone's happy, I'm starting to feel guilty. Really..."

After thinking for a long time, Trier still couldn't find the right words. He suddenly realized that his understanding of himself might not be as thorough and profound as he had imagined.

After providing the militia with a simple divine healing, the paladin called out, "Forward, friends!"

"Forward!" The militiamen's unified shouts echoed through the sky.

“I am a stone.” Futia crouched in the shadows of the ruins on the west side of the old square, quietly observing the bloody battlefield to her right. “Don’t rush, wait until that undead appears before you act…”

A breeze carrying the scent of blood blew by, and the dust scattered across the ruins was clearly visible in the golden beam of light. The next moment, a dusty leather glove was gently placed on the bowstring.

The bowstring slowly unfurled, and the bowstring trembled slightly as it held the arrow.

“It’s not time yet, calm down!” Fythia sighed and put down her composite bow. “Noi and the others are still holding on.”

She patted her cheek with her right hand to try and clear her head, then looked up at the battle line not far away.

The sharp spearheads gleamed with a chilling aura in the sunlight, while the cold metal spearheads, like a rushing stream in a forest, clearly divided the two sides.

On one side were fully armed and ready for battle, while on the other side swam a group of extremely bizarre-looking ghosts. These ghosts did not seem to be purely ethereal beings; their icy blue spirit bodies seemed to contain their own heads, and beneath those heads dragged long spines, making them look like centipedes.

“Let’s just call them Spirit-Binding Spine Monsters!” Futia thought. “These Spirit-Binding Spine Monsters seem to be able to resurrect infinitely, just like that undead wearing black plate armor.”

Suddenly, she caught a glimpse of a black reflection out of the corner of her eye.

It's now!

In an instant, Futia completed the entire process of nocking the bow, aiming, and shooting the arrow.

"Last time I shot its head off, this time I'll shoot its heart—hopefully this time it works and it won't come back to life," she thought.

The next moment, she released the bowstring.

"boom!"

Chapter 58 Resurrection

The arrows suddenly slashed across the chaotic battlefield, their sharp, explosive sonic booms crashing like a tidal wave above the heads of the undead.

With a sonic boom, an abomination stitched together from a corpse exploded instantly, its stitches and flesh scattering like a smashed watermelon. A clump of putrid flesh, propelled by the arrow, slammed into the nearby Spiritbound Spine Monster, which was flung into the air like a kite.

The path pierced by the arrow became a blood and flesh grinder, and the terrifying wind pressure brought by breaking the sound barrier was like a drill used by dwarves to mine, shredding all the undead along the way into pieces.

However, Futia knew she had missed—the high-ranking undead was already on guard against her. After a morning of fighting, she had basically figured out the high-ranking undead's abilities: infinite resurrection and shadow travel.

Although she missed with her first arrow, the elf was not discouraged. She calmly and attentively nocked a second arrow, then quickly scanned the shadows across the battlefield.

In the forest-like shadow cast by the soldiers' spears, Futia was astonished to see the elderly garrison captain suddenly break out of the ranks. His cloudy eyes seemed to suddenly sharpen, and the speed of his heavy, extra-long spear thrust out suddenly increased several times. The silver spearhead swept past the skulls of three spirit-bound beings like a storm.

Futia's sonic boom arrow greatly disrupted the spirits' attention, and the three-headed spirit was pierced through suddenly with almost no resistance.

The next moment, the garrison captain suddenly ducked and swept his body horizontally. A crimson line of blood suddenly burst out from the body of a corpse demon that had rushed forward. It crashed to the ground with a thud, splattering blood all over the ground.

The pool of blood seemed to still be steaming, and the murky surface of the blood reflected the old soldier's fierce face. His two white eyebrows were coldly furrowed like blades, and a few drops of foul-smelling blood slowly dripped from the edges of his eyebrows.

"The garrison captain's marksmanship is so amazing?" Futia was taken aback. She blinked unconsciously. "This kind of martial arts is outstanding even among elves. Does this mean that someone with this level of martial arts can only be the garrison captain of a small town in a human kingdom?"

The next moment, a rapier wreathed in dark green light silently emerged from the shadows and then stabbed into the garrison captain's back like a venomous snake.

Fatiya was prepared; she easily released the taut bowstring.

However, the arrow missed its mark again, and the undead once more shrunk back into the shadows like water droplets merging into the ocean.

"Bang!" The silent arrow slammed into the ground, its shaft trembling slightly.

A sharp flash of sword light disappeared in an instant, and the undead leaped out of the shadows once more, swiftly swinging its sword to stab Harlan from behind, who was frantically hacking at the spine-bound monster.

At this moment, under the effect of the divine spell "Majestic Stance," Harlan's body became extremely large, and his four-meter-high plate armor gleamed in the sunlight, making the knight look like a steel golem.

Seemingly sensing the sneak attack, the knight with an agility completely disproportionate to his size instantly retracted the greatsword that was slashing, and suddenly pushed off the ground and turned around. The heavy blade, which was three meters long, instantly crushed the tip of the rapier. The cold and slender rapier suddenly burst out with a dazzling flash of fire, and then deformed under the unparalleled force and was released from his hand.

The high-ranking undead quickly ducked to avoid the powerful ultimate strike. It seized the opportunity to pounce on the nearest shadow, but the next moment, a heavy flail slammed into its shield.

The wooden handle slammed against the edge of the shield, and the three heavy iron balls, propelled by inertia, hurled violently at the undead's head, instantly denting the black, sealed helmet.

In Fythia's view, Sister Noy, wielding a flail, pulled sharply, and the heavy iron chain tightened around the neck of the undead. The undead struggled desperately, but in the next moment, Noy tripped it lightly, and the undead's struggle turned into the force that knocked it down, causing it to fall to the ground like a manipulated puppet.

The nun abandoned her usual gentle demeanor. She slammed her foot on the undead's left shoulder and used the force of the kick to pull it back sharply with her right hand. With a "crack," the high-ranking undead's head flew into the air like a spinning top, its helmet crashing to the ground and then turning into shadow along with the undead's remains.

“The twenty-eighth death.” Futia silently calculated the number of times the undead had died. “Based on experience, it will be resurrected in three minutes. It’s time to move it.”

To be fair, aside from its bizarre appearance, incredible survivability, and ability to resurrect infinitely, this undead clad in black plate armor posed negligible threat. Throughout the long morning's back-and-forth, its only accomplishments, besides constantly leaping around in the shadows like a flea, were scaring away the bronze dragon. Based on its current combat capabilities, Futia didn't believe it would pose any threat to the dragon.

"It's just unkillable—but what is this undead's purpose in constantly courting death?" Fythia nimbly vaulted through the window, pondering this question. "I wonder how things are going in Trier..."

The next moment, something unexpected happened. A low and cold murmur suddenly rang in the ranger's ears.

"Someone's singing?" She stopped abruptly and turned to look at the distant battlefield. "No, it's a bard casting a spell through his song!"

The undead, who were supposed to resurrect after three minutes, actually reappeared on the battlefield!

The rapier in its hand was gone, replaced by an exquisitely crafted lute. Its iron gauntlet plucked the strings rapidly, and chaotic, sharp notes poured out like shriveled beans. As the piercing melody flowed out, the high-ranking undead suddenly exuded an indescribable and terrifying aura.

"Divine might as a mountain?!" Futia was momentarily stunned. "How is that possible?"

Divine Might Like a Mountain is an extremely powerful bewitching spell. It makes the caster exude an irresistible aura, causing nearby creatures to feel heartfelt awe. If the affected person is not strong-willed, they may even worship the caster. Even those with strong wills will be disoriented when faced with this terrifying spell due to the shock to their mind.

Futia had witnessed her mother wipe out the lair of a notorious pirate gang in just three minutes with only Divine Might and two Meteor Explosions. The cruel and bloodthirsty fish-man pirates gave up resistance under the effect of Divine Might and could only watch helplessly as the meteors hit their faces.

The high-ranking undead plucked the strings faster and faster, its hands moving so swiftly they were almost blurry. Futia quickly drew back the bowstring, trying to stop it from continuing its spellcasting, but she was a few steps too late.

—Terrifying appearance, shared mental barrier, hero's prayer, illusion spell, speed spell, spotting the vital point... Every syllable is a buff spell!

One buff spell after another was cast on the high-ranking undead in time with the melody. If the undead was weak and laughable just now, its combat power had now been enhanced to a terrifying level by itself.