Translator: CinderTL
"Hey, Ellis..."
Holland scratched his bald skull, watching his companion patiently carve a magic array. Bored, he yawned.
"How long are we going to stay here? I've seen that kid with the Shadow Heritage lurking around several times already, so..."
The priest stepped closer, leaning in to stare at Ellis's face, which looked particularly grotesque due to the dried blood.
"Have you found your precious phylactery yet?"
"Damn it, Holland!" Ellis recoiled half a step, his voice low with irritation. "If you hadn't been distracting me the whole time, I would have found it by now!"
"Alright, alright..." Holland shrugged helplessly. "I just wanted to remind you that standing still in one place might mean a cold dagger in your chest any second now."
"Hmph!" Ellis snorted coldly, refocusing on the magic array before him. "I've already cast a spell to conceal our presence. Unless there's a spellcaster nearby, no one will..."
As he finished the last crimson stroke, the completed array glowed faintly. Ellis continued, "No one will notice us."
"Not even that half-baked assassin could detect anything here, let alone other transcendent professionals."
"Really?" Holland asked skeptically.
"Without your phylactery, your spellcasting skills must be utterly crude, right? Can a magic array created in this state even achieve sixty percent of its original effectiveness?"
"I suggest you set up multiple overlapping arrays, like how you took down that transcendent professional earlier. That way—"
Seeing his companion ignoring him, Holland trailed off and leaned in to examine the magic array on the ground. It was gathering and refining the chaotic magic in the air, then channeling it continuously toward a distant spire.
"How's it going, Ellis? Can you sense the phylactery's location yet?"
"Enough, Holland!"
Despite being undead, Ellis felt a familiar headache brewing.
"I've only just rebooted the core of Demon Capital Gilles! It'll take time to pinpoint the phylactery's aura! Until then..."
He sighed, his tone almost pleading as he looked at his companion, who clearly wasn't listening.
"I want you to guard another Magic Conversion Array, just like Van Buren is doing, in case of emergencies..."
"Fine..." Holland clicked his tongue.
"But let's be clear: I can't beat that little brat who inherited Rudolph's Shadow Heritage."
"I told you... Ah, never mind..."
The Lich shook his head slightly and bowed deeply.
"Please, Holland."
"Tch..."
Seeing his companion's posture, the priest suddenly lost interest.
He raised a nonexistent eyebrow, picked up the silver shield beside him, and strode out the door.
Watching the reckless fellow finally leave, Ellis let out a long sigh of relief.
He refocused his mind and murmured softly, "My phylactery... my most cherished creation... Let me see, where exactly are you hidden?"
In the next moment, a vast surge of mental power erupted from him, radiating outward in all directions.
Under the force of this power, the surrounding space visibly distorted.
"Found it!"
After an indeterminate amount of time, two crimson flames suddenly ignited deep within the Lich's hollow eye sockets.
"Schmidt, you're still as cunning and cautious as ever."
The Lich pulled his hood back up, concealing his face, his voice dripping with icy mockery.
"Too bad you never imagined that even without my phylactery, I could still return to this world. And the city you treasured, the city you worshipped as your lifeblood... now lies in ruins."
As Ellis withdrew his scattered mental power and prepared to leave, a deafening explosion shook the room.
Boom!
The thunderous blast didn't come from outside the door, but from directly overhead.
The entire ceiling shattered instantly, as if struck by an invisible giant hammer.
Countless fragments of stone, wooden beams, and dust rained down like a torrential storm.
Blinding sunlight mixed with a devastating shockwave surged violently into the cramped space.
In the blink of an eye, a thin gray film enveloped Ellis, shielding him from the impact.
He jerked his head up, the crimson soulfire beneath his hood contracting sharply.
A massive figure, wreathed in silver-white Battle Qi that tore through the air, crashed through the gaping hole like a falling meteor, slamming heavily into the ground.
Boom!
The solid stone floor beneath the figure's feet cracked violently, spiderweb-like fissures spreading rapidly to cover most of the room.
A ferocious shockwave erupted from the point of impact, instantly obliterating the Magic Conversion Array Ellis had just completed.
The precious materials and refined magic lines that formed the array emitted piercing wails under the assault of the Battle Qi, disintegrating into dust and scattered motes of light, rendered utterly useless.
Amidst the swirling dust, the figure slowly straightened.
Residual silver-white Battle Qi flickered around him like tangible flames, rising and falling in ethereal waves.
"Impossible!"
A hoarse voice rasped from beneath the hood, Ellis's voice raw with shock and fury.
His concealment spell... had failed?
And... it had been detected by a knight.
As the dust settled, the newcomer's sharp gaze swept across the ravaged scene, finally locking onto the two flickering crimson soulfires beneath the Lich's hood. A satisfied smirk crept across his lips.
"Heh..." Graham's deep voice rumbled. "Looks like my luck's holding up."
His tone was remarkably relaxed, a stark contrast to the frenzied, flickering soulfires in the Lich's eye sockets.
In the next instant, a thunderous boom tore through the air.
Graham's massive frame transformed into a silver lightning bolt, surging toward the Lich in the blink of an eye.
His Battle Qi-imbued longsword, crackling with thunderous force, swung down with overwhelming momentum.
Seeing this, Ellis instantly unleashed several magic missiles charged with negative energy from his fingertips. But Graham, having tasted such spells before, swiftly sidestepped them.
Seizing the spellcasting gap, the blade tore through the Lich's dark energy shield, leaving a glaring gash across Ellis's ribs.
The soulfires within the skull flickered violently as the Lich staggered backward, his spellcasting rhythm utterly disrupted.
In this clash between undead and knight, the initiative now firmly rested in the hands of the living.
While Graham's side was making smooth progress, the other group had reached a stalemate.
"Humans, elves, orcs, and a witch?" Holland surveyed the motley crew before him, letting out a mocking whistle. "What's this? Are you rehearsing some kind of play?"
When no one responded, Holland tightened his grip on his shield and sighed in exasperation.
"See? What did I tell you, Ellis? Your spellcasting skills are appallingly crude. Fine, fine..."
After muttering to himself for a moment, he bowed slightly, his resurrected body striking a somewhat comical pose.
"Allow me to be frank," he declared, his voice tinged with an archaic cadence. "I am a knight from a distant era, when we adhered to a noble tradition: resolving disputes through one-on-one duels. The victor, naturally, claimed all the spoils of victory."
Holland's gaze swept over the longsword held by the young man at the head of the group, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind, but his words continued without pause.
"So, to show respect for this 'ancient relic,' which of you will accept the honor of this duel?"
(End of the Chapter)
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