The Necromancer's Servant

"If you don't want to die, come over here and help. Blocking two Temple Knights is something you can manage, isn't it?" Asa shouted to Hilton and the others in the distance.

Hilton and his two companions immediately came over. The druid transformed back into a werewolf once more. Although Lancelote had previously said he wasn't interested in them, that was likely just talk. Moreover, the bishop behind him was probably the one who had the real authority. For the Church, both druids and dark elves were absolute heretics, and the dark elves who often resided in Nigen were considered even more evil than orcs.

"Boss, so you've been playing dead this whole time. Damn, that was smart. I knew there was no way a paladin could take you down with one strike. Too bad we didn't get to finish one of them off." Hilton brandished his dual fist swords threateningly at the Temple Knights on the other side. He was a straightforward and simple-minded guy; as soon as Asa called, he rushed over without considering the consequences.

Asa forced a wry smile. In truth, when Lancelote's strike sent that powerful combination of aura and magic into his body, Asa's body was completely paralyzed, but his mind and senses remained untouched. He had attempted to use meditation techniques to break free of this shackle, but unfortunately, the aura's power wasn't just clever—it was overwhelmingly strong. Despite pouring all his energy into resisting, he couldn't dispel it.

However, when Lancelote and his two companions started fighting Theodorus, Asa suddenly felt an unfamiliar sensation enveloping him. It was a strange feeling—subtle, lively, and oddly familiar. Almost immediately, Asa's body resonated with this sensation.

It wasn't a specific part of his body that changed, but rather every single cell in his body seemed to be filled with that vibrant life force, as if countless invisible trees were sprouting, growing, and flourishing inside him. The aura and magical energy within him vanished rapidly—not because it was expelled, but because it was assimilated. The surge of life absorbed every trace of Lancelote's aura and magic, and Asa regained full control of his body.

This transformation occurred entirely within his body; outwardly, nothing seemed unusual, and no one paid any attention to him as he lay on the ground. This gave him the perfect chance to strike back at the unprepared Christian.

"Everyone stop! Please listen to me!" That voice rang out for the third time. Asa glanced over and saw that it was the elven elder Lloyd, standing beside Ruya, who held the World Tree's Leaf, and a female elven patrol soldier carrying a black longbow. The three led a group of elves, encircling the battlefield that had descended into chaos.

Unfortunately for the Temple Knights and the bishop, no words carried more weight than defeating or capturing their three main opponents. At this point, their advantage still seemed clear, so they had no intention of stopping. On the other hand, Theodorus' side had no plans to let their guard down and listen to anyone. The elven elder's calls sounded weak and futile amidst the tense standoff.

Yet Lloyd's face showed no panic or hesitation. His gaze moved back and forth between the two tense sides while he whispered instructions to the female patrol soldier beside him. In contrast, Ruya looked visibly anxious as she clutched the World Tree's Leaf tightly.

Asa's eyes fell on the leaf in her hand, and he froze for a moment, realizing where the life force that freed him from Lancelote's hold had come from.

Adra stood up, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Despite his unparalleled white magic skills on the continent, it still took significant effort, alongside several Temple Knights, to stabilize Ederick's injuries. Adra looked around at the situation and smirked coldly. Even he could see that Theodorus and Grutt's combat strength had been nearly exhausted. Although their side had one heavily injured Temple Knight, one moderately wounded, and Lancelote himself was fatigued, they still had two fully functional Temple Knights and ten unscathed Holy Warriors. More importantly, they still had him.

As a bishop, his role in battle was unquestionable. The previous exchanges had been too fast for him to participate. A wall of fire had obscured his vision, and in the blink of an eye, figures had clashed, separated, and exchanged magic and strikes before he could react. But now, fully focused, Adra was ready. Even with paralysis spells alone, he could easily change the tide of battle. Without chanting an incantation, a white light flowed like liquid mercury between his fingers—a powerful white magic spell ready to be unleashed.

Even a short moment to catch his breath was enough for a mage of Theodorus's level to regain a bit of magical energy. His gaze was locked on Adra, his hand glowing faintly with a similar white magical light.

Grutt and Lancelote stared at each other, their gazes colliding with a tension so palpable that everyone could feel it in their skin. Although both men looked tired, they were still undoubtedly the central figures—the souls—of this battle.

The fight resumed with the two casters. Bishop Adra pointed at Theodorus and barked, "Freeze!" Theodorus, in contrast, silently waved his hand, casting a simple purification spell that immediately dispelled the paralysis spell as soon as it appeared.

Adra's face darkened. He realized that paralysis spells were useless. Despite their obvious combat advantages, they had a critical flaw. Even the simplest purification spell, when cast by a mage of intermediate level or above, could dispel this advanced magic. Under normal circumstances, such mages—often priests—would never be adversaries, and the Church strictly controlled the teaching of white magic. Yet here he was, facing an unexpected opponent.

Adra changed tactics, summoning a beam of white light toward Theodorus. The light-arrow spell, typically reserved for combating undead, could burn a man to cinders in his hands.

Theodorus didn't flinch. He raised his hand, and a small whirlwind swirled up the leaves and dirt around him, forming a light barrier. This thin layer of debris, incapable of stopping a rock, nonetheless perfectly blocked the beam of light.

Under the white light, the barrier burned furiously, filling the air with a scorched smell. Several younger Temple Warriors gasped in awe at the depth of Adra's magic. Yet Adra's expression grew grimmer. Theodorus had countered both of his spells with the simplest magic, regaining his spent energy in the process. Meanwhile, Adra had nearly gone all-out with his attacks. The gap in magical control and experience was undeniable. If this continued, Adra would run out of magic first, while Theodorus's power might even recover.

But Adra wasn't alone. As the two casters dueled, Welleskay loosed another glowing Anti-Magic Arrow, tearing through the air with a thunderous roar toward Theodorus.

Once again, Grutt, who had been facing off with Lancelote, had no choice but to intercept. This time, he dared not grab the arrow directly. Instead, he deflected it upward with a sweep of his hand. The arrow shot into the sky, smashing part of a treehouse into splintered branches.

Even this careful deflection forced Grutt back a step. The sheer force behind the Temple Knight's attack was comparable to a siege ballista, and Grutt was undeniably fatigued. For a moment, a clear opening appeared.

Surprisingly, the first to seize this opportunity was not Lancelote, nor any of the Temple Knights or Holy Warriors—it was Asa.

Opportunities are always fair; they simply depend on whether someone is willing and able to seize them. While Welleskay created this opening for Lancelote, Asa had been waiting for this very moment. Ever since he repelled Christian, he had remained still, going unnoticed by Adra and the Temple Knights. No one had thought him worth much attention, unlike Theodorus or Grutt.

No one expected Asa to strike now—and with such a shocking move.

A deafening roar filled everyone's ears. It sounded similar to the Anti-Magic Arrow, but it was louder and more powerful. That's because what created this sound was a massive sphere, far larger than the arrow.

A ball the size of a grown man formed instantly in Asa's hands, radiating heat waves as it hurtled forward with terrifying force.

The timing was perfect—just a fraction of a moment after Adra and Welleskay launched their attacks.

The sphere burned with nauseating colors—blue, gray, and green swirling together like putrid sewage mixed with rotting corpses. It was unlike any conventional fireball spell, something far more sinister.