Translator: CinderTL
After Van Buren's decaying body turned to ashes, Roland immediately summoned his companions into the house.
He carefully inspected the area, confirming that the magic array had been completely destroyed and was no longer effective. Only then did he sigh in relief.
Yet the strange phenomenon he had witnessed earlier resurfaced in his mind.
"What's wrong, Roland?" Avril asked, her keen eyes catching the unusual expression on his face.
"Nothing, it's just..." Roland shook his head gently, his gaze falling on the round ring in his hand.
The ring was extremely plain, a simple band of silver-white metal. It was unadorned by any gems, but the surface was etched with nearly imperceptible, intricate, and ancient patterns that shimmered faintly in the dim light.
"Selune's token? Perhaps... it's one of those 'Treasure Tools' you mentioned!" The Purple-Haired Witch leaned closer, her nose catching a faint, sweet fragrance. She studied the ring in Roland's hand with curiosity.
"Mr. Roland, what's our next move?"
"While Dean Graham is entangled with that Lich..."
Considering Shar's presence, Roland didn't put the ring on his finger but instead carefully tucked it into his waist pouch.
"We need to head to the High Tower in the center of the Demon Capital as soon as possible to investigate."
"Although the core of the magic array has been destroyed, we should completely obliterate it to prevent it from reactivating. However, given its towering structure, it would be best to..."
Just as Roland was explaining his plan, a voice suddenly boomed in his ear.
The sound cut through the air, deep and resonant, with an overwhelming presence.
Roland's brow furrowed instantly, his face darkening.
"Freddy, support Mr. Jashu!"
He commanded urgently, his eyes darting like lightning toward the source of the voice. In an instant, he was already charging out the door like an arrow loosed from its bow.
That voice, he would never mistake.
Though far weaker than the roar he'd heard in Mist Creek Town, the faint trace of ancient power within it proved...
It was undeniably a dragon's roar.
With this thought, Roland moved cautiously through the rubble.
Only when he failed to find the massive body he'd expected did the tension in his mind slightly ease.
Bursting through a collapsed archway, Roland found himself in a suddenly wide-open space.
In the devastated ruins, two figures were locked in a fierce battle.
One was a slender figure, enveloped in a nauseatingly thick aura of negative energy.
A pitch-black shield materialized before him, flickering like a living creature, precisely parrying every fatal strike.
His fingertips pulsed with an ominous purple-black light, launching death arrows and icy rings of negative energy that slithered toward his opponent like venomous snakes.
With every teleportation dodge, the rubble beneath his feet instantly crumbled into gray-white dust, leaving behind footprints radiating a deathly chill.
"That person must be the mastermind behind the Church of Truth... the Lich!"
In an instant, Roland identified the slender figure.
But as his gaze shifted, his heart sank.
"Is that... Graham?"
The Graham before him was no longer the knight he knew.
Molten gold and blazing white Battle Qi coiled around his muscular frame, radiating a terrifying heat.
Merely standing there, the rock beneath his feet crackled and melted into a pool of crimson lava.
Dark gold scales erupted savagely from his skin, covering his neck and arms.
His hands twisted and contorted, their fingertips extending into terrifying keratinous claws.
Compared to his monstrous appearance, the strength Graham now displayed far surpassed Roland's previous understanding of him.
His movements were faster than human limits, each charge accompanied by a shriek that tore through the air.
Wherever his blade passed, half-toppled stone pillars and massive architectural debris were silently severed and melted, the cut surfaces bleeding crimson.
Even to Roland's eyes, the Lich's nearly impenetrable negative energy shield trembled violently under the frenzied slashes, emitting grating, shattering sounds.
The shockwaves alone caused the already unstable surrounding walls to crumble, sending debris flying like buckshot.
"Bloodline mutation?"
Seeing Graham's near-inhuman appearance and the scales on his skin, which seemed strangely familiar, Roland instantly recalled Galvis's words when he had once introduced him to sorcerers.
The thunderous roar of the battle could not have gone unnoticed by anyone but Roland.
In moments, his companions arrived beside him.
As they gazed at the fierce battle raging in the distance, their faces were etched with horror.
Even Avril and Vanessa, usually unflappable, showed a flicker of solemnity in their eyes.
"Dean Graham, is this the... true power you spoke of?" Jashu's mouth twitched as he recalled the Knight Academy Dean's boastful words over drinks. His eyes were filled with disbelief.
With the revival of the Demon Capital Gilles halted, the tireless magitech constructs gradually ceased their operations.
Soon, Reggie arrived at the battlefield's edge with the remaining few thousand soldiers.
"Roland!"
After a brief moment of shock, Reggie raised his hand in greeting to Roland, then bowed slightly to Jashu, who was leaning against a broken pillar.
"Lord Jiaxiu."
"Long time no see, Reggie..."
Both men tacitly avoided offering to join Graham in battle.
They knew that this level of combat was far beyond their capabilities.
Interfering would only hinder Graham, disrupting his fighting rhythm.
After clearing his throat a few times and spitting out the blood in his mouth, the severely wounded assassin finally spoke.
"Where are the reinforcements Lord Derek sent? Is it just you?"
Reggie shook his head at these words, then raised the object in his hand.
It was a metal cylinder, a faint wisp of black smoke curling from its opening.
Roland narrowed his eyes at the sight of this object.
He recognized it.
According to the halfling Hoby, this was a Smoke Tube, a recently developed dwarven invention used to signal for rescue at sea when in distress.
Reggie had clearly ignited it, which meant...
With this thought, Roland's gaze swept toward the River Domain's Royal Capitals.
As the thick fog dissipated, a line of orderly soldiers appeared on the horizon, bathed in the orange glow of the twilight.
They wore blue and white armor, their formations disciplined and precise.
By a rough estimate, there were at least ten thousand men.
Leading the army were several commanders.
Though their appearances varied, the aura of authority they exuded...
Roland let out a long breath, the last shred of worry in his heart finally vanishing like smoke.
Every one of them...
...was a powerhouse of an extraordinary profession.
As Roland and the others conversed, time passed, and for the first time, a clear expression of shock and gravity appeared on Ellis's icy face.
Forced to move at high speed, he lost his previous composure, his figure flickering and teleporting frantically under the pursuit of the Molten Gold Light Blade.
Death rays that had originally aimed for Graham's head were evaded at impossible angles with contorted twists.
One ray grazed a giant stone, instantly reducing it to crumbling, black-smoking gravel.
"ROAR!"
Graham's growl rumbled like thunder, giving his opponent no chance to catch his breath.
Molten Gold Battle Qi surged once more as he roared and lunged at the undead creature that dared to defile the living.
He even discarded his weapon, his claws tearing through the air with the force to rip space itself as they slashed toward Ellis's chest.
Screech!
The sharp claws tore through Ellis's protective shield, narrowly missing his robes and leaving behind a few scorched marks.
Fragments of shattered negative energy scattered like black snow.
The Lich was sent skidding backward by the sheer physical force, his feet plowing two smoking trenches in the ground, the light in his eyes flickering violently.
(End of the Chapter)
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